The Secret of Strange Waters (The Light Keeper Series Book 2) by Hall Kelly

Author:Hall, Kelly [Hall, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Booktrope Editions
Published: 2015-07-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

AT THE PIPELINE ENTRANCE, there was a small crowd of cars; four, to be exact. Two of which were Tom’s blue Ford truck and my cousin’s red ‘Cuda, along with another truck and a Jeep. They were all scattered and blocked the road; their headlights created the bright glow, and shone on a group of scuffling guys. I noticed Hunter being held back by a pair of them, and another boy kicking at something on the ground, dust flying so thick around them I couldn’t see exactly what, but it was either Talon, Owen, or both.

I slammed on the brakes, and Holly and I jumped out. Holly was grabbed as soon as she got to the front of the Lincoln. I went to help her, but before I could reach her, a pair of strong hands grabbed my shoulders and dragged me away from her. I watched as she kicked and screamed, and finally broke free. The last I saw of her, she was running down the pipeline screaming.

Whoever had me was getting the fight of their life. I kicked and screamed too, with all of my might, but he finally pinned me against the back of the ‘Cuda on the driver’s side.

He held my arms down at my sides and pressed himself against me to hold my legs still. “You’re a little fighter aren’t you?” he said. I recognized his voice as the one who grabbed me in the hall. Cold drops of sweat dripped off him and onto my face as we struggled.

I could hear the sounds of punching, kicking, and pain coming from the dust cloud. I stopped fighting long enough to evaluate my situation. The Cuda’s doors were still open. I could try to get in and lock them, but I’d have to move fast. I kicked the mystery guy in the groin, and he let go long enough for me to break free and make a lunge for the car.

“You stupid bitch!” Strong, sweaty hands grabbed at me, and I fell into the door, knocking him down. He grabbed my legs and screamed more obscenities as I fell, too. Inhaling a cloud of dust made me cough as a fine layer of dirt settled on my exposed skin. He was pulling at my legs as I got up on my palms and tried to crawl into the car, fighting against his grip. Then something caught my eye.

Owen’s black water bottle had slid out from under the seat and was lying on the floorboard by the gas pedal. The indoor light shone on it, just brightly enough to make it visible. “Quit fighting me,” the guy growled. I turned over and got a leg loose enough to kick him in the face. My legs were like noodles, limp and weak, but it did the trick: he fell backward, and I reached over and grabbed the bottle. I knew it had Water in it—it was half full and cold to the touch.

I had to keep moving.

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