Silent Vigilante by Shandi Boyes

Author:Shandi Boyes [Boyes, Shandi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

We tear out of the family driveway not even two minutes later. Mom is so excited, she dusted the flour off her shirt instead of replacing it with a clean one. A buzzing sensation is in the air. It has Phoenix, Madden, and our mother’s smiles stretching from ear to ear, but I can’t seem to produce half a smirk. I don’t know why. There’s just a twisted feeling in my stomach that has me more nauseated than excited.

I discover the reason for my unease a quarter of a mile away from my home. There’s been an accident on the T-intersection at the end of our street. My mom has called it a hazardous crossing many times, but since it isn’t a thoroughfare in a main town, nothing was done about it.

“Stop, stop, stop,” I demand on repeat when the mangled wreckage surrounded by first responders and a fire truck registers as familiar. It’s the Greggs’ family station wagon. “Oh no, please,” I beg to no one as I throw open the rear passenger door of my mom’s sedan.

Ignoring my mom’s plea for me to wait, I race toward the wreckage. It appears as if the station wagon was rammed by a large cattle truck. The driver’s side is completely crumbled in, and the passenger side has been peeled open by the jaws of life.

“Were there any casualties?” I ask the first officer I stumble upon. He’s wearing plain clothes, and an air of arrogance surrounds him. He must be higher up than his fellow officers.

It feels like the world crumbles beneath my feet when an officer manning the radio of a patrol vehicle shouts for the site to be placed into lockdown since two of the commuters were announced dead on arrival. “Forensics is being brought in.”

“No!”

My panicked squeal gains me the attention of the man I attempted to speak to earlier. “Hey, kid, you can’t be in here.”

When he tries to guide me away from the wreckage, I shrug out of his hold. “That’s my girlfriend’s car. That’s her family wagon. I need to know if she’s okay.”

I race for the crumbled vehicle, desperate for any signs of life. Strands of blood-smeared blonde hair stuck in a circular crack in the windscreen has me heaving, but I continue my mission, determined to unearth answers to the questions no one will give me.

Sick, twisted gloom overwhelms me when I discover Melody’s cell phone on the floor of the wagon. It’s coated with shards of glass and twisted metal, but there’s no doubt it is her phone. Not only does it have our photo displayed on the cracked screen, it’s a cell phone especially designed for deaf people. The flashing light that alerts her to messages is almost as big as my thumb.

“This is my girlfriend’s phone. Does that mean she was in the wreckage?” I hold out Melody’s phone to face the men circling me with grim, sorrow-filled expressions on their faces. “Was she taken to the hospital?” When

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