Chapter 2
Colt sped through the streets in a Humvee that was built for rough terrain, not for a winding obstacle course of potholes, crumpled cars, and mounds of debris.
Thud. Thud. He barreled over an aluminum ladder, and his brain bounced against his skull.
“Watch out!” Danielle yelled.
Colt didn’t see the cast-iron tub until it was too late. He clenched his jaw and cranked the steering wheel to the right. Tires screeched, and the engine roared as the front bumper clipped an upright piano, erupting in an explosion of wooden panels and ivory keys. He knew he should slow down, but he couldn’t. Not if there was a chance that Thule were lurking nearby.
“Display GPS,” he said, and a map appeared in the heads-up display inside his visor. “Show me the shortest route to the crash site.”
The word CALCULATING flashed on the screen three times before a green line appeared, connecting two dots. “Turn right onto Larpin Lane in one hundred feet,” an automated voice said.
“Wait, what?” Danielle said. “There’s nowhere to turn.”
“Why would the GPS lie?”
“Maybe because it doesn’t know the streets are buried under a foot of debris.”
“Turn right,” the GPS repeated.
Colt jerked the steering wheel, and the Humvee shook as it rolled up a mound of plywood, beams, and Sheetrock. Crack! Something beneath them broke, and the tires spun until they found traction on what was left of a sofa.
“See, it was right,” Colt said as the Humvee shot down a street that had been partially cleared by a bulldozer.
“Congratulations.”
There was a blur of motion as a motorcycle with a sidecar cut in front of them. “What a jerk!” Danielle cried out.
“Me or him?” Colt barely had time to react, but he managed to cut the wheel hard to the left. Their Humvee shot over a curb and into a front yard.
“Colt! Tell me you see that!”
They were speeding toward a chimney that stood in a field of ash. It was all that remained of what had been a massive house, and they were on a crash course.
Colt slammed on the brakes, and the wheels locked up. Tires cut through wet grass, digging through the mud as he spun the steering wheel to the right. Momentum turned the Humvee sideways, and time seemed to slow as the chimney loomed in front of them.
Twenty feet. Ten feet. Five.
Metal crumpled as the driver’s-side door slammed into the chimney. Colt felt the impact roll up his spine and into his shoulders. His head snapped to the left and then the right as bricks fell on the roof in rapid succession. One caught the windshield and left a jagged crack before it fell to the ground.
Colt hit the gas and the Humvee shot forward, rolling over a birdbath and then jumping back onto the street. From the corner of his eye he could see Danielle looking at him, and even though her face was hidden behind the helmet, he could imagine the fire in her eyes.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “But—”
“But what? You almost got us killed!”
“I know. It’s just that . . .” Colt hesitated, trying to think of a good excuse. It didn’t matter that he was only sixteen or that it had only been six months since he earned his driver’s license. Not when the world needed heroes to rise above themselves.