Troublesome Trucks Face Novels & Stories

He must figure out why the quality of the rough stones had suddenly increased. The Breath in his body got to work. There was no problem with the first and second trucks. When he came to the third truck, he was surprised to find the rough stones on this car reacting strongly to him. There was a problem. There was definitely a big problem. This truck had moved very slowly at first, and it vanished from the sights of the two trucks in front of it. Then, the quality of the rough stones suddenly changed. Who would believe it if there was no problem?

I forced it out anyway. “We had to make a detour, Father,” I said, keeping my voice even, forcing the words to come slow and deliberate. “The SUV started misfiring after we left Ironclaw territory. Rough idle, stuttering acceleration. I didn’t want to risk breaking down on the main route with Kira bleeding in the back seat. There’s a gas station just off the line, neutral ground. We pulled in, popped the hood, checked the fuel filter. Took maybe ten minutes. Then we got back on the road. That’s when the truck hit us.” Dominic’s eyes never left mine.

"Feed them some of Roderick's ashes." Simple. And, as far as Thaddeus could tell, effective. "You know that's not a bad idea. We have enough left to do that, but then the dilemma is what to do with-" Whatever he meant to say got lost in the loud pops of tires exploding and then the scream of rubber as the truck skidded sideways. Marc battled for control of the vehicle, but with the tires blown combined with the speed they traveled? It was a lost cause. It didn't take Thaddeus's tingle of danger to know they were in trouble. Someone had set a trap, and they'd driven right into it.

“They’re going to start looking for us soon. We can’t afford to just sit here.” As I turned onto the road, something felt wrong. The truck was acting funny, kind of wobbly. I glanced in the rearview mirror and sucked in a breath. The side of our truck was crunched in. Great, it must have happened yesterday during the chase. “We’ve got to get this fixed,” I told him as I swung into an old gas station that boasted of a faded auto-repair sign and two spoilt cars parked haphazardly on the gravel out front.