Novel & Cerita Supernatural Truck Route 666

Someone finally couldn't handle the sight anymore and stumbled aside to throw up, while another broke into panicked, helpless sobs. My hands trembled slightly, and my face was deathly pale. I was one of the calmer ones, but there was no denying that I was just a high school student. It all started yesterday, during our class trip. The bus plunged over a cliff, and we woke up to find ourselves here. A system appeared before us. It told us we were dead and that clearing this game, The Tyrant's Atonement, was our only way back. It was a game where we could choose our roles.

He’s evidently been using his keen hearing to follow the conversation. “Fewer people likely means fewer hunters as well,” he says. Dad folds up the map. “It’s settled then. We’ll stay on the 1.” We’ve still got more than an hour of daylight left, so we start walking along the highway. Buildings become fewer and farther between as we leave Castroville behind us, so when we come to a gas station with a small market attached, Dad decides to stop for the night. There’s a mangled UPS truck in front of the store. The dark brown metal body of the truck is twisted and nearly torn in half—I’m pretty sure the damage was done by the appearance of an Anomaly. Radar studies the truck for a moment and the

I drive straight into the white abyss. ​Ten minutes. That is how long I make it before I see the headlights. ​I am on the winding cliff road leading out of pack territory. To my left is a sheer rock face. To my right, a hundred foot drop into the ravine below. Visibility is near zero. Then, bright beams flood my rearview mirror. ​A black lifted truck with no license plates. ​My heart hammers against my ribs. Is it Kael? Is he coming to bring me to the dungeons?

But all I found was something I couldn’t walk away from. I took his hand. “Okay.” I got back to the truck, and Silas began to drive again. This time, when I asked where we were going, he answered. “Superior, Minnesota,” he said, his voice flat. “It’s remote. No one will find us there.” ——- “We have to ditch the truck,” I said, glancing over at him. He shot me a look like I had lost my fucking mind. “What? No.” I turned toward him, my gaze steady. “Our scent’s all over it. They’ll track us down with it.”

Vampire or not, Tessa’s death implies foul play and I want to play detective. “You will see for yourself. Are you up for a ride?” “Sure.” I followed him to his truck which was parked a few feet away from the church. The mourning crowd was off the left side from where Logan's truck sat. A tall hedge concealed us as we entered the truck. Logan zoomed off onto the high road. The passenger seat had a toolbox which he moved to the back with an apologetic grin, the truck smelled of beer and grease and a hard day's sweat. Logan’s brown shirt matched the worn leather of the seats and the dashboard. From a radio, slow instrumental music played creating a more solemn atmosphere as we drove on the lone

“Privacy mode. If someone’s listening, they’ll get a meditation podcast.” Wolfgang eyed a rack of custom boards. “You built all this in a suburban basement?” Pauly shrugged. “NBN’s legit if you know whose traffic you’re borrowing.” Jack set a palm on a cleared corner of desk. “We’re hunting the pipeline pushing Supernatural. Wharf to warehouse to casino. We need ghost eyes—spoofed cams, sealed comms, access to freight manifests that don’t exist.”

I practically leaped into the truck, whipping out of the driveway without even looking both ways. And then, I began speeding toward the hospital. Jessica… How had this happened? She was normally a cautious driver, and rarely took risks when it came to driving. Whatever it was, it must have been a freak thing; a drunk driver, maybe? Something in the road? Of course, my mind began to whirl with other—supernatural—possibilities. With Edward seemingly back, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was somehow targeted. Maybe it was just my anxious brain making connections where there were none, but I couldn’t help it.

Instead, I had made a deal that he would answer when I called in my favour and tell me everything I wanted to know about why the Azure boys had hired him to stalk me. So when I called, he picked up. The favour I asked was not quite what he had expected, but never-the-less he had kept his word with only a little reminder of what Alec and Hugo's wrath looked like, and just over 24 hours later, we are in an unmarked SUV driving along back lanes and staying off the main roads on our way to Blue Moon Creek, and the refuge it offered all supernatural creatures.

“Holy shit! Three sixes like in 666? What the fuck’s going on here? Is it some kind of portal to hell?” “That’s canceled, Bran,” I teased, talking about the TV show. “C’mon, there’s no portal to hell in the Manor, or haven’t you met the Blotters? Do they seem demonic to you?” “Yeah, you’re right. But it can’t be a coincidence.” “Agree. Let’s check with Amy.” He raised a finger and I waited until he readied his camcorder to call the medium. “It’s a triad,” she said as soon as we finished explaining the situation to her. “Makes sense. And bet that if you connect the spots of the coordinates, they’ll form a six-point star on the land.”

"We're here to escort you to Hollowhaven Supernatural Academy." "What? No fucking way am I going to that freak house." They might as well send me to a medieval torture chamber. I'll be the only human in a school full of vamps, weres, witches, and God knew what else. Before sunrise tomorrow, I would be dead.