“Yeah, attack!” He flicked the lighter on in his right hand and glanced into the back seat to see Kylie slumped against the door. Her blond hair hung in straight locks across her pale face. His heart squeezed in his chest at the mix of emotions he felt for the girl whose role in all of this was more than a little unclear. He hoped his emergency cauterizing technique bought her some time, but cringed at the thought that she may already be dead.
Inside his gut he felt a wave of anger build. He felt anger at the mindless minions stretching the barrels of their rifles out of their lowered windows aiming to shoot at his head or their tires or both. Anger at the loss of his ability to feel through the scars on his hand, anger at life for not giving him time to learn how to control and use his gifts but most of all Evan felt furious at himself for having believed his gift was superior based on half-baked precognition skills.
An ear piercing spray of gunfire shook him from his angry reverie.
He called the flame in to his left hand, slipped the lighter back into his pocket and reached for the Glock with his right.
“No more,” he growled.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Creed grinned at the look of sheer righteous anger he saw on Evan’s face. He turned his attention back to the road and concentrated on giving Evan as clear a shot as possible by swerving into oncoming traffic. One hand on the wheel, he reached for his sidearm, flicked the safety off and laid it on his lap, ready for whatever was about to happen.
With a flick of his wrist, Evan threw a projectile stream of molten lava to the SUV’s front tire. His right hand held remarkably steady aimed directly at the driver’s forehead.
The stench of burning rubber filled his nostrils, but he didn’t flinch.
The screech of metal bullets puncturing the trunk of the sedan rang in his ears, but he didn’t waver.
The coppery taste of his blood enveloped his tongue, but he didn’t hesitate.
All he saw was the mindless drone of a metahuman sneering from behind the wheel of the SUV. With cold calculation, Evan exhaled and pulled the trigger.
Instantly, the driver’s head flew back, his meaty hands tossed up like rag doll’s into the night air. On its own, the SUV pulled hard right, careened through a railing and sprung airborne. It spun like a football in the black night sky before it landed and slid metal against palm-laden dune. It came to rest in a heap, like a can crushed against a brick wall, but Evan wasn’t watching the crash. He was watching the second SUV as it lunged to speed up beside their shot up sedan.
At that angle, Evan knew he couldn’t shoot, flame or bullet, without risking their safety.
Creed was thinking the same thing. “Grab the steering wheel!” he hollered to Evan.
Immediately, Evan fisted his left hand to extinguish the flame, spun in his seat and grabbed the wheel Creed had just relinquished.
The Beretta was off Creed’s lap and firing faster than a human eye could have followed.
Pop, pop, pop!
Three shots, three kills.
“Damn, you’re good with a gun,” Evan exhaled as he watched the driver-less truck plow into a tall palm and burst into flames.
Creed took the wheel back from Evan and both boys allowed themselves a moment to just breathe.
“Did that really just happen?” Cole’s groggy voice broke the dead pause.
“We’re getting the hell out of Cairo,” Creed said in response and pulled the vehicle off the two-lane highway in search of the fastest route to the billboard.
Evan crawled carefully into the back seat. He first checked his brother, Alik.
“How’s Al?” Creed asked, worry clearly framing his voice.
“The longer that oily poison stays on his skin, the more damage it’s doing. He’s in bad shape, but at least he’s still breathing.”
“We’re getting you help, Al,” Creed called over his shoulder at his half-brother. “Just focus on breathing and we’ll get you to the family asap.”
Evan wanted to put a reassuring hand on his brother, but he didn’t know where he could touch him without causing more pain.
Evan moved on to check Cole. “Cole, buddy. You okay?” Evan asked, gently shaking his shoulder.
“Ow, Maze! Get off me!” Cole waved at Evan weakly before his head lolled to the side.
Evan smirked despite himself. “Cole’s drifting in and out of consciousness, muttering in his delirium. I think he’ll be okay.”
“Good. That smartass has really started to grow on me.” Creed shook his head remembering their rivalry over Meg. “How’s the girl?”
Evan hesitated. He was almost afraid to know. Images of her smiling face flashed in his mind and he forced himself to reach out and search for a pulse in her throat. Though his right hand was steady, inside he was a raging mess of emotions. Her ghostly, pastel coloring seemed to make her glow behind the curtain of her golden hair.
Time ticked by as his skilled fingers searched. Worry lines etched deeper into his brow with each passing moment.
“Kylie!” he heard his voice crack with emotion. Exhaustion and fear welled up in the form of tears in his stinging, hazel eyes. He had to slip his left knee between her and Cole to brace himself when he moved to try again. He shook her shoulder gently and called to her, “Hey Kylie! Come on! Wake up!”
Nothing.