A Curve In The Road Novels & Stories

By the time they found him, he was crouched on the side of the road, shaking with fear at the sight of a stray dog. Since then, dogs had become Parker's greatest fear. I couldn't believe that the very person who had caused his fear would have the audacity to give him a toy dog as a gift. I wasn't sure if I felt more anger or disappointment. Setting the box aside, I said calmly, "Thanks." Beatrice looked at me with a puzzled expression. A moment later, she seemed to remember something and said, "The power's out at Maxwell's place, so I'm having him stay at our house.

That silence was exactly what he had expected. Luca only became quiet when he was angry, and Kael had spent enough years around him to recognize the signs. Most people mistook that silence for frustration. Kael knew better. It was the calm that came before Luca became dangerous. The first major curve appeared in the distance. Among underground racers, the section was infamous. Riders called it Widow's Bend because of how many careers and lives it had ended. The corner tightened unexpectedly near the apex, forcing riders to choose between braking early and losing speed or committing fully and trusting their machine.

The road was pitted, full of treacherous curves, flanked by dark embankments that dropped into nothingness. Cassius didn’t know that terrain. I did. I had studied every inch of those roads on the plane. Every bridge, every detour, every possible escape route. Mateo and Zahir had mapped the entire region, turning every kilometer into a calculated battlefield. I accelerated again. The sedan was less than five hundred meters away. “He’s trying to lose you on the next curve,” Zahir warned over the earpiece, voice calm, methodical. “The drone shows a fork ahead. The left road leads to the city. The right one, to nowhere.”

That was how far out it was. The condition of the road to Mayel spoke of the good taste of the long-forgotten Viedanise. The tar was intact and from the last town to the village entrance, there was no sign of damage to the smooth, black tar that glitters on sunny days. The road started out on a straight line that disappeared into the horizon, but soon turned to a curve here and a bend there. Then there was the endless swirl around several mountains before it turned to a sharp descent that led straight into a dark and thick jungle that never failed to give people an ominous feeling.

Davis asked as he was swinging off the highway and heading to Gulf City Mall. “How long again before we arrive at the beach house?” Lee asked. “We are only halfway there. It has a highway from here to Point Fortin but then from Point Fortin to Cedros, it is just the main road. The roads here in Trinidad are very bad, there are a lot of potholes on the road.” “Potholes?” Michael asked. “Well, it is depressions on the road that can damage vehicles when the wheels fall into them. We call it potholes here.”

Looking back in the mirror the same car follows behind us, stepping on the gas we speed down the winding road, taking sharp corner after sharp corner as the car speeds up to my side and trying to run us off the road along the river back. “I need and escort team to Hunter road and Times” I hear Ferrah tell someone on the phone. “Keep to the ridge” she says as the car slams into us again. We dodge other cars and ever spin a few off the road and into the back along the ridge, thank fully not the river bank. Tiers screech on the road a head of us and three black SUV’s do one of those stunt drifts and spin to fallow behind us with one in front as we speed down the road and into the back lot of th

Carol doesn’t just know how to ride—she owns the road, as if it bends to her will. She approaches a hairpin curve—one that would make most riders slow down—but Carol does the opposite. She leans low, her bike tilting dangerously close to the pavement, her knee almost grazing the ground. For a moment, it seems impossible that she’ll come out of it unscathed. But with a flick of the wrist, she straightens the bike, gliding smoothly into the next stretch. Damien can’t help the grin spreading across his face. "Fortune favors the bold," he mutters under his breath, the ancient Latin proverb perfectly capturing the audacity in Carol’s maneuver.

Another shot rang out and missed them by mere inches. "James, do something!" Lily screamed. "I'm trying!" He said coming up a narrow side road. He didn't let up and swung for all he was worth to the right, the vehicle jerking under him. The car slid onto the dirt road and billowed out from behind them was a churning cloud of dust. James just hoped that would be enough to blind their followers for just a moment. It was a truly bad road with many potholes and rocks filled everywhere. He continued to strain ahead, soccer; the car jumped and shook like a mad thing.

It was a ra‌w, scared‍ sound. Pete‌r s‌lammed the gas.⁠ We shot forward. The othe⁠r c‌a‍r fell back⁠ for a second, then its en⁠gine roared and it came up right be⁠side us. I could‍ see it was big, dark col‍ored. We were⁠ com⁠ing up to‌ the wor‌st curv‌e⁠. The hairpin. The‍ oth‍er car swe⁠rved tow⁠ard us, try⁠ing to push us into the⁠ rock wall.

The SUV edged back into its lane and remained there. A yellow sign flashed by, its bent black arrow warning of a curve to the left ahead. Leesa eased her foot off the gas to slow the vehicle and concentrated her thoughts on the wheel. Watching the wheel and the road at the same time wasn’t easy, she was discovering. The car began to turn as it entered the bend, but not as quickly as the road curved. The vehicle began heading toward the shoulder, forcing Leesa to grab the wheel to regain control. “Sorry,” she said once the car was safely back in its lane. “I didn’t want to take a chance of running us off the road.”