Isolated by Matt Rogers

Author:Matt Rogers [Rogers, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781519090126
Google: SRteMQAACAAJ
Amazon: B01KF0I8CG
Publisher: Matt Rogers
Published: 2016-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

The slow trek back to the main road passed in a haze.

King left Cole’s body in the cave, too deep in thought to bother attempting to hide it. He continued up through the verdure. Stepped over the two men who had ambushed him on the way down. They remained as dead as ever. He left them there too. At that moment, nothing mattered but the revelation that he was being hunted by people he knew. He had no idea why, or how many of them there were. It had skewed his perspective on the last few days, to the point where he questioned every encounter he’d made since stepping foot in Jameson.

He approached Billy’s sedan in a daze, uncaring as to whether it was still drivable. He opened the door and got in. Started the engine. Reversed out into the middle of the road, thinking how lucky he was not to be stranded miles from any town without a working vehicle. It seemed the crash had missed most of the important mechanics, but he wasn’t sure the car would last much longer. The smoke creeping out of one side of the bonnet threatened to shut the engine down at any moment. King knew he had to get to Queensbridge, to the Discount Inn, but his mind was far from concentrated on the task at hand.

He covered the last few miles to Queensbridge in record time, keeping his foot all the way to the floor. The wind battered his face as he drove, but that’s what he wanted. Anything to mask the anger and confusion. It didn’t take long to see the familiar buildings on either side of him, signifying that he was approaching the town centre. He’d passed through Queensbridge two mornings before. It felt like an eternity ago. So much had happened in such a short space of time. And this fresh revelation had shaken him to his core.

He rolled the battered sedan into the parking lot of the Discount Inn and got out. The place lived up to its name. It was a two-storey building with paint flaking off the exterior walls and cheap plastic chairs littering the tiny spaces outside each room. Even from outside King heard a crying baby in a downstairs room and a couple arguing at the top of their lungs directly above. The whole place smelt of stale cigarette smoke. He spotted reception, which was all he needed.

By now the sun had almost fully risen. It shone over the horizon, blinding him, making his head ache more than it already was. In a terrible mood, he slammed the car door, drawing the attention of a pair of women jogging past. Early morning exercise. They took one look at him and gasped in shock. As they continued running, King swore that their pace quickened.

He wondered why.

It didn’t take long to find out. As he approached reception, one of the tinted windows displayed his reflection. He studied the image, and even he felt like gasping.

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