A Black Mass Over Highway Ninety 소설 & 이야기

The localized seismic shockwave hit the earth like a subterranean hammer. The asphalt buckled and exploded. A massive trench, ten feet deep and twenty feet wide, ripped across the entire width of the highway, severing the northbound lanes completely. But Jabari wasn't finished. Channeling the Star-Code, he reached into the exposed earth, drawing upon the deep, silicate minerals buried in the bedrock.

"Sorry, I completely forgot about Parker's birthday." Her words were almost laughable. Wasn't every notification on her phone a reminder? Could she really not see them? Or was her affair so consuming that everything else slipped her mind? I took out the divorce papers and flipped to the final page. Struggling to keep my composure, I handed them to her. "If you could sign here–" Before I could finish, Beatrice's phone rang. Maxwell's panicked voice crackled through. "Ms. Thorne, the power's out at my place. Can you come over?"

The lead robber, now unmasked, revealing a shaved head and sharp, predatory eyes, was too busy driving like a maniac to notice the tension in the back seat. "Turn off the tracking," he barked at Noah. "Now!" Noah reached into his pocket slowly, pulled out his phone, and tapped a few buttons with his bound hands. "Done," he said flatly. The Bentley roared forward, weaving through traffic at speeds that made my stomach lurch. Less than ten minutes later, we crossed a bridge, iron girders flashing past the windows, the Hudson River glinting dark below. A road sign blurred by: US-9 North.

The night had a way of exaggerating everything. Streetlights flickered like faulty beacons, casting long, uneven shadows that stretched and twisted across the wet asphalt. The highway felt endless, a black ribbon pulled taut between nowhere and somewhere, and we were suspended on it like unsteady ghosts. Travis drove with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping idly against the gearshift. Occasionally, he hummed, but not a melody I recognized—more like a private rhythm that only he could hear.

another voice yelled, the sound of heavy duty air brakes hissing violently as a massive row of steel frames rounded the corner. The rumbling turned into a deafening, mechanical roar as a massive convoy of heavy, custom built motorcycles tore through the dark, their massive tires throwing up ten foot walls of spray. The blinding, high intensity halogen headlights flooded the entire highway, pinning Valerie's broken, unmoving form directly in their white hot glare as the lead bikes began to fish tail, sliding sideways across the wet asphalt straight toward her.

“Okay. But I’m staying in the car.” Highway 9 had not changed. They drove for twenty minutes, leaving the town behind, climbing into the pine hills that cradled the county. The sky was low and gray, threatening rain but not delivering it. The road was two lanes, cracked in places, patched with tar that looked like black scars. Eliana sat in the passenger seat and watched the trees blur by. She remembered this road. She remembered the way it had felt beneath her tires, the way the headlights had cut through the rain, the way Maya had been humming off-key to the radio.

I turned to look at the bougainvillea blooming brilliantly along the roadside and found myself smiling too. There was still a long future ahead of me, with so many things I wanted to do and places to visit. And this time, I would live only for myself. The car drove along the coastal road as sunlight scattered across the ocean like shattered gold. I closed my eyes slightly, the corners of my lips lifting upward. After ninety-nine canceled weddings, I finally understood something. Some men are not worth waiting for. Some years of youth are not meant to be wasted. And some love should never require you to lose your dignity.

I stepped outside, feeling the river breeze sweep across my face, when my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unfamiliar number. It said, “I’m sorry.” I didn’t reply. Instead, I deleted the message, flagged down a taxi, and got in. Outside the window, neon lights streamed by in a blur. The city that never sleeps glowed bright and alive. Just like life, it never stopped moving forward.

She pulled a magenta crayon with slow precision from its box. “Dead skunk laying in the highway, hon,” he lied. “Smells bad, huh?” “A little.” Richard followed US Route 20 along with the other traffic going west. He noticed it had begun to rain, so he clicked on the wipers. In the overcast distance he saw an exit sign coming up fast: IRENE EXIT 1C BLACKWATER VAL ¼ MILE ROCKFORD ¾ MILE

I couldn’t see the shadows in the rearview, but I still felt them like a weight on my chest. The radio squawked to life. James and I both flinched. The noise shocked me back to reality like a splash of cold water. I’d put at least a mile between us and the cemetery. We were in my car, we were safe, and I was back in control. “Code 99. Reported 905B possible 905V at the high school. 901K.” “What the fuck does that mean?” asked James. I turned to look at him and realized that he was in the front seat like a regular passenger instead of cuffed and secured in back like a suspect. He looked like I felt. Bloodless. Panting. Eyes wide and unbelieving.