Old Wounds by Logan-Ashley Kisner

Author:Logan-Ashley Kisner [Kisner, Logan-Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2024-09-10T00:00:00+00:00

22

Max comes out of his head when the car jostles over a pothole. A stress headache has its pulsating grip on his skull, although the pain in his knuckles has since faded into a dull throb.

It’s hard to say how much time has gone by, although the radio has thankfully moved on from Restless Heart. Max sits up and rubs his eyes. Turns out it’s possible to have an adrenaline crash even when you’re the furthest thing in the world from calm. His throat is raw. But mostly he’s just tired. He sits sideways, his back to the door, and pulls his knees into his chest, staring at the blur of trees through the opposite window.

Max wonders if Erin is still waiting for him in the car, or if she finally grew tired and went after him. Worse yet, he wonders if those two creeps came across her. His only source of incredibly minimal comfort is that he left her with the knife, and he knows she will use it if she has to. Erin used to go shooting with her dad. She’s not a pansy.

Still. Max doesn’t realize he’s crying until he starts tasting salt. He has no idea if Erin is okay. All he does know is that if anything happened to her, it’s his fault. This whole thing is his fault. He repeats this to himself over and over again, like he’s picking at a wound. His fault. His fault.

Up front, a default ringtone cuts through the violin playing this last song out. Max bristles at the sound but then goes right back to numbly staring out the window.

Chief Laster turns down the radio and picks up the phone. “Yeah?”

Max wipes roughly at his eyes. It’s been a few months since he’s felt scared like this, and since he’s felt it so openly. Crying is weak, and boys don’t cry.

“What?”

Chief Laster slams on the brakes. The car jolts to a stop, right there in the middle of the road. Max barely has the reflex to catch himself on the seat and avoid a concussion. But it’s enough to finally shake the fog of self-pity from around his brain.

Max looks up. Chief Laster is staring at him through the rearview. It’s hard to put a name to the expression. But it’s not exactly confidence-inspiring.

“No, stay there,” Chief Laster says into the phone. “I’ll call you back in a minute.”

He hangs up and puts the car into park. And then he sits there for a moment, eyes blazing in the reflection. Max stares back, confused and a little scared.

Without warning, Chief Laster punches the wheel. The horn squeaks more than it honks, and Max jumps. As the man turns off the car and steps out, Max nervously starts to feel around for the flashlight. He’s so concerned with keeping his eyes on the man that, by the time he finds it on the floor and Chief Laster opens the door, he completely forgets to swing.

So instead of making an incredible escape, he’s just grabbed by the arm and roughly yanked from the car.

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