Bridge of the Gods by Diane Rios

Author:Diane Rios
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2017-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE AMBULANCES DID NOT SLOW AND DID not swerve. Unerringly direct, they shot across the lawn and down the drive, straight toward the party. No one could move a muscle; the entire crowd was frozen in shock at the sight of the oncoming cars and the sound of the sirens. Then the spell was broken as the ambulances plowed through tables and chairs, and the guests began to run.

Pandemonium broke out over the beautiful party. Dishes were tossed like toys. The fine white tablecloths tore beneath the tires. Chairs flew through the air. The long tables were cut in half. The speeding cars carved deep ruts into the lawn as they skidded to a stop and the drivers leaped out.

The guests screamed and tried to run away, but their elaborate party dresses hampered them and their tall wigs fell over their eyes, blinding them, and all they could do was collapse on the ground. The ambulance drivers all looked the same in their white coats. They grabbed the guests who fell and immediately placed over the partygoers’ faces masks attached to canisters of some kind. The victims stopped screaming and became limp when the masks went on. Then the drivers dragged their wilted forms across the lawn to the cars.

Chloe and the Artist, along with some of the actors from the play, watched in horror from backstage, where they were still hiding. A few of the group were crying, and others were starting to panic.

“Quiet!” said the Artist, trying to hush a sobbing actor dressed as a raccoon. “We need to hide! Now!” he whispered, pushing the raccoon and two deer toward a group of large, empty boxes by the wall. “Get in there! Cover yourselves!”

He turned to Chloe. “Come, child. Let’s find the horses.”

Chloe put her hand in her dress pocket to make Shakespeare was there and safe. The Artist grabbed her other hand, and they both jumped off the stage. Chloe ran behind the Artist, and they made it to the corner of the great house without being seen. There, they halted in the shadow of the mansion. Looking back, Chloe saw the first of the ambulances, now full of its new, horrible cargo, turn back across the lawn and drive away. She thought of Lord Winchfillin and hoped he had managed to escape.

“I see the horses,” whispered the Artist.

Greybelle and Raja, as well as about ten other horses, were still in the corral that Chloe had visited earlier, and all of the animals were milling nervously about, some neighing in fear. Loud bangs and crashes were coming from the stables.

“Now! Hurry!” The Artist grabbed Chloe’s hand, and they made a dash for the corral. Chloe could hear the sound of breaking glass coming from within the house. “Greybelle!” Chloe called to the mare as the Artist undid the gate.

Greybelle answered Chloe with a clear, high neigh and rushed over to meet them.

More crashes and shrieks came from inside the house, and an eerie yellow glow danced in the windows.

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