Page 52 of Secrets Along the Shore

“I said turn around, Noa!” Awareness flooded Alan’s face. He took note of where we were, where I’d brought him. “Don’t—Noa—turn around.”

“Where are Lilian and Rosalie? Did you kill them too? Are they dead?” I demanded. I saw the gas station coming closer. No one was at the pumps. The lot was mostly empty, save for two cars parked at the side of the main building.

“Turn around!” he screamed into my ear.

“Did you kill them?” I screamed back. I could turn the car and floor the gas pedal. If I did, the curb was low. I’d probably hit a gas pump first. But I would aim for the center post.

My breaths came short and quick.

Black shutters began to close over my eyes.

“Turn around!” Alan yelled.

My foot pressed down, and I heard my engine accelerating.

Alan screamed something in my ear. I felt his spit on my face. Thegun jolted from his hand as the car hit the curb, and for a moment—a strange and slow motion moment—I wondered if I’d actually made the car go airborne?

The crazy thing is, when you’re faced with extreme circumstances, when chaos should be at its worse and when your world is imploding, you’re seeing the face of death drawing close, and emergency sends your body into shockwaves of reaction . . . the entire moment slows to a crawl.

That’s what it was like.

In that moment.

I saw the grave he had dug for me.

I felt the dirt he shoveled over my body.

I held my breath.

I clawed my way out.

And I was alive again.

But how many times can a person die and be raised from the dead?

I knew my chances had run out.

Sirens.

Heat and an acrid smell vaporizing in my face.

I could feel blood on my lip.

There was shouting and someone was yelling my name.

I tried to open my eyes. When I managed to open them, I saw the windshield of my car was busted out. Windshield glass had exploded all over the vehicle, the dashboard, and on me.

I pawed at the airbag, but the movement sent a sharp stab of pain through my torso and I cried out.

Flashing lights alerted me to the fact that help had arrived. The last thing I remembered was pressing on the gas, aiming for the station, and Alan. He had been in the back seat. I tried to twist and see where he was, but I couldn’t.

The car door groaned as it was forcefully tugged open.

“Noa!”

I knew without even looking that it was Reuben. My eyes slid shut.

“C’mon, Noa. I’m right here.”