Supernatural Truck Route 666 소설 & 이야기

" The guards misinterpreted his command, so they dragged me by my feet and threw me outside the entrance to the pack's territory. I lay in the snow, watching the laughter and joy of the celebrations around the distant bonfire. I watched Kayden hold Vera and receive the blessings of the pack. My consciousness began to fade. That was when a black SUV stopped in front of me. A group of humans in protective gear jumped out. They were from the Supernatural Sanctuary, specializing in conflicts between humans and werewolves. "Target confirmed. Vital signs are weak. Signs of a miscarriage." "Hurry, get her in the vehicle! There's still time!"

The heavy blast doors of the garage ground open, letting in a swirl of blinding white snow. Ashren punched the accelerator, and we shot out into the dark. … The Ghost Road wasn't on any official map. It was an old smuggler's route that bypassed the main highways, cutting through the jagged, frozen ravines of the deep tundra. For the first six hours, the silence in the rover's cabin was absolute, save for the hum of the engine and the howling wind outside. I sat in the passenger seat, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. The rover’s heater was blasting at maximum capacity, making Valen sweat in the backseat. But my breath was still pluming in the air like white smoke.

I was near the bottom of my magical and energy reservoir, and I prayed I wouldn’t black out. My brain already felt the strain, and lead dragged at my every muscle. Jason stepped on the gas harder as the witches’ spells pinned our vehicle and slowed us down. As we broke free, a truck thrust into our view, blocking the road ahead. Clenching my teeth, I forced my spent magic out, and a wave of dark wind slammed into the truck, tossing it aside, just as our van roared by. But the driver’s side of the door scratched the rear of the spinning truck.

“I need traffic cams and satellite feeds—track a black Chevy Suburban, five minutes from the Stillwater Ridge cabin. Two passengers—woman, kid. One unconscious female adult, possible hostage. Suspect is Camille Marek.” Lucien doesn’t ask questions. “You’ll have a route in forty minutes.” “I need it in twenty.” Silence. Then: “You’ll have it in ten.” I hang up and get behind the wheel. I don’t turn on the music. Don’t speak. Just drive. The forest blurs past as I leave the road entirely. The GPS route Lucien sends pings the Suburban’s course—eastbound. Target: a private airstrip just past the state line.

The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges and the echoes of shattered trust. Seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes continued to tick by as I chased the other lycan through the crowded streets. The traffic was relentless, slowing me down and granting my target an advantage of escape. The supernatural nature of our pursuit became apparent as the lycan leaped over vehicles, leaving deep scratches in their wake. Startled humans gasped and pointed, their eyes widening in disbelief at the evidence of our existence intertwined with their own.

He has to be here. I look around in the vast parking lot, to see it empty. Dammit! I lost him! Breathing heavily,I try to catch my breath when my eyes stop at the truck parked on the other side of the road. My heart thudding rapidly in my chest as I went closer to read it's number plate. 5647 NEQ Sh**! He was is here...it was not my illusion...he was the same man...he was here to hurt me. But the thing that scared me more.

DR. FRANKLER GAVE MAVERICK a secretive smile before looking away. She didn't say anything, but she might as well have. I'd been so caught up in the doctor's story, I'd almost forgotten that it wasn't a story at all. She was teaching us the real history of supernaturals - the origin of supernaturals. And they came from a place called Nimbiru, which didn't sound like anywhere I'd ever studied. Maverick had suggested that we were missing the big picture, and he had a good point. Where the heck was this place?

“Two days ago. That was the last I could find of him.” “Any idea on where the meeting was?” “Say, do you two like tacos?” he asked. Segue much? “There is this fantastic taco truck that drives around. I sometimes see it just outside of town headin’ to this industrial complex.” “We may have to go for a drive, then.” “Watch out, though, there are some rats that hang out in those things.” Six nodded and stood. “Good luck.” “You, too. Take care.” Six stood and wrapped his arm around my waist, guiding me back out to the madhouse of the casino floor. Diving between gaps of people, we wove through throngs of mindless walkers the entire way back out to the front to pick the car up from valet.

"There's a kid back there who's stayed alive since he was six by never once going where he was expected, and he's the only one of the three of us who's any good at this. Ask him how you get to Nevada without arriving in it." Maya turned around and looked at the truck. And a hundred yards past it, back down the road they'd just driven, headlights came over the rise. Two sets. Then four. Moving fast, and not braking, and not the sort of vehicles that ought to be on Highway 26 at half past five in the morning. "Eli." Maya didn't turn round. "Get in the truck."

The silence that followed the power failure was predatory. I stood in the center of the dark garage, the .45 heavy in my hands. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, aided only by the moonlight filtering through the shattered window. Every shadow seemed to mimick the monsters. Outside, the faint hiss of tires on gravel announced their arrival. I crept to the edge of the large bay door, peering through a rusted crack in the metal. Three black transport trucks, the kind used for hauling livestock or heavy machinery, rolled into the lot. Behind them followed two tactical SUVs with the Aegis Zenith logo embossed on the doors.