Supernatural Truck Route 666 소설 & 이야기

I sucked in a deep breath when I saw the truck that was about to fall off with the driver trapped inside. “Jett!” Brody, the driver who brought me here, shouted. We were on a road up a hill, close to a meadow; the obvious sight of the overgrown trees deep down the meadow that revealed a forest was a clear sign that this road was a bad idea. The road looks like it has been abandoned for a long time and needs to be redeveloped. “Is this the route you guys normally take to camp?” I asked Brody in concern. “No.” Brody confesses, “This isn't the route Alpha Axel instructed us to take; it is a shortcut, and we thought that…” He swallowed his word in fear as the truck close to the hill shifted. It

He targeted the driver of the lead buggy—an Orc wearing a skull mask. Brrrt. The driver vanished in a pixelated cloud of blue data. The buggy swerved violently and crashed into the guardrail, flipping over and exploding. "That's one!" Ren shouted, pulling himself back inside. "Shields are dropping on the cargo truck!" Jinx warned. "We have a heavy incoming! Twelve o'clock!" Ahead of them, blocking the highway, a massive semi-truck painted with skulls and spikes roared to life. It was twice the size of their rig.

“Good. I could never go close to that fucking thing. So it wouldn't know what hit it until later?” A snort filled the room. “Dr. Janet intends to give his gifts to a much more co-operative subject.” “From man to werewolf and werewolf to man. That's fucking terrifying, bro. Think she'll test it on us first?” _____________ The truck came out of nowhere. I heard it before I saw its enormous engine heading towards my direction. I turned toward it, noticing how wide the driver’s eyes got. “Oh, shit!” His mouth moved hurriedly. I could see how hard he tried to march brake, but the road was wet, the distance was wrong, and I had just enough time to think that this was going to hurt—

Rhett’s jaw clenched, his hand brushing unconsciously against the pistol at his side. Not while he was breathing. The engines roared like thunder in the night. Rhett sat at the front of the pack, his knuckles white on the bars, the wind cutting sharp against his face. The road stretched black and endless ahead, the desert sprawling dark on either side. Behind him, the line of Vipers growled steady, headlamps painting the highway in streaks of white. This wasn’t just another run. This was war. Tank had come through with intel: a Serpent truck hauling guns and pills south along Route 62. A half-dozen bikes riding escort, maybe more waiting down the line. The kind of run Kane couldn’t afford to