Page 63 of Don’t Let Me Go

The first thing I notice is the smell. Sharp and metallic, like burning wires. Then I hear a moaning followed by a soft whimpering.

I can’t tell which direction it’s coming from. There aren’t any lights in this part of the ride. It’s like being lost in a

black hole. I can’t get my bearings.

Though that might have more to do with the fact that my head feels like it’s about to split open. I must have hit it against

something when our rocket coaster jumped the track and crashed. There’s a throbbing on the right side of my skull. And the

ringing in my ears is making it difficult to concentrate.

“Duy?” I call out. “Caleb?”

In the darkness, I hear someone groan, but no one answers.

What the hell happened? One second, we were zooming through black starlit tunnels. The next, we’re screaming and crashing.

Did we hit something? Or did something hit us? I remember our rocket-shaped carriage shaking uncontrollably right before things

went sideways, but I thought that was part of the ride.

Something wet and sticky trickles down my face. I don’t need to see it to know it’s blood. I wonder if I have a concussion.

The searing pain in my head is growing worse.

“Hello?” I shout. “Is anyone there?”

Again, there’s no answer, only more groaning.

I have no idea if anyone’s coming to help, and I don’t want to wait around to find out. Despite my entire body aching like it’s been tackled by ten linebackers, I try to stand. But when I go to draw up my legs, I find I can’t move. My legs won’t budge. A tight, viselike grip is holding them down.

Trying not to panic, I fish my phone out of my pocket. The screen is cracked, and I can’t get a signal, but the flashlight

still works. I aim the beam at my legs, and suddenly it makes sense why I’m having so much trouble moving.

It’s our crashed rocket coaster. Its heavy overturned frame is lying across my legs, pinning me to the floor with its crushing

bulk. I don’t know how I didn’t feel it before. I must have been in shock.

I try to pull my legs out from under the coaster, but it hurts too much to move them. I then try to lift the rocket. All I

need is an inch to free myself. But I can’t budge the massive weight. It’s too heavy. And my arms are too weak.

I’m trapped.