Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2) - Page 144

He spun around and nearly plowed Jonah over.

The kid lurched out of the way. “See? It’s all still there! I don’t understand!” He was starting to panic, which only fueled Max’s dread.

Something was very, very wrong.

He clutched Jonah’s shoulders and shook him urgently. “Think, Jonah! Think! Where would he go? Where. Would. Sean. Go?!”

“I don’t know!” Jonah shouted, eyes wide, face paling. “Just said he needed “to get away”!”

Max’s mind churned furiously. Get away… Get away…

His whole body froze.

Sean had said he went to Great Falls when he needed to get away.

Oh, God.

Max’s heart stopped, then his mind raced to redo the math. Sean had canceled his trip. Had given away his shit. Said he was leaving and not coming back, yet he didn’t pack any clothes.

Fuck. Jesus Christ. The math still added up.

Sean was going to Great Falls to fucking jump.

Loosing a strangled curse, Max shoved Jonah out his path and hauled ass for the door.

“Max!” Jonah called after him. “Where are you going?”

“Call his parents!” Max barked hoarsely.

Please, God. Let me be wrong.

Jonah shouted something else, but it didn’t register. Because as Max tore down the stairs and raced for his truck, all he could wrap his brain around was getting to Sean.

* * *

Max hit the brakes, nearly missing his turn completely. In the darkness, that little yellow road marker came up way too fast. He took a hard right and gunned the gas. In fairness, the rate he’d been traveling probably had a lot to do with almost passing it. He’d been exceeding the speed limit by ten to twenty miles an hour ever since he pulled out of Sean’s apartment complex. Had been fully prepared to outrun the fucking cops, too, if they’d tried to pull him over. In the grand scheme of things, going to jail for evading meant absolutely nothing compared to what Max was trying to stop.

Branches snapped violently against his windows, each jarring bounce atop the dirt road bucking him off his seat. He nearly dropped his cell, still trying to reach Sean by phone. He should slow down. If he hit a tree he’d be no help at all. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

Max squeezed the wheel tighter, his face a desperate grimace as a litany a pleas rolled anxiously off his tongue. “Please, Sean. Please don’t be here. Please, God, cat. Be somewhere else.”

A split-second later, his heart stopped, then dropped like dead weight.

“No, no, no,” he groaned, eyeing Sean’s parked car up ahead. “Goddamn it, Sean. Goddamn it.”

He hit the accelerator, speeding to its location, then slammed on the brakes, cursing as his truck slid. Nearly nailed Sean’s back bumper. Fuck it. He’d buy him a new one. Shoving it into park, he threw open his door, not bothering to shut off his engine. After all, the headlights would let him hit the ground running, illuminating the way while he dug out his cell.

Blood roaring in his ears, he lunged from his truck, boots chewing up the small distance to Sean’s Beetle. He could hear its engine tick-tick-ticking. Still hot. Max wasn’t far behind. He skidded to a halt at Sean’s driver-side door, then fumbled to shine his flashlight in for clues. Anything that could give him a shred of hope. That he was wrong, that his fears were unfounded and he could breathe.

But all he found were Sean’s keys still in the ignition and a bunch of empty beer cans on the passenger seat. But fuck, Sean had only just gotten there recently. Must’ve shot-gunned the things for fast results. The implications of that slammed Max hard in the chest. Sean was no longer in his right mind. Drunk and distraught with raging rapids at his disposal.

Panic tore through Max’s veins, sending him running like a mad man, tearing down the path toward the falls. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real!

He pinched his arm desperately. “Please, wake up—Please, wake up—”

But no matter how hard he squeezed, how many times he made his nails break the skin, the looming black trees still remained. A broken curse left him. This wasn’t a dream.

Which meant he needed to run faster.

So he did, even though he could barely see. But not just because of the forest’s oppressive darkness. His eyes had turned blurry with tears. Air sawed from his lungs, rocks crunched beneath his feet. Then images started rifling through his mind.

Bright beams of red and blue slicing through the night—

Cop cars—Fire engines—Ambulance doors opened wide—

Tears trickled past Max’s lashes. “No.” He shook his head. “No.”

The smell of the azaleas—A squad car’s two-way radio—

A sob lodged in his throat. Again, he shook his head. “Please, stop.”

Mrs. Sander’s keening wail—A blanket-covered gurney—

Kevin’s ashen-white face and bruised neck—

“No!” Max howled, instinctively closing his eyes. He tripped and fell forward, barely catching himself with his hands.

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