Page 101 of Wild Oblivion

“Impressive.” I looked at my watch, then tried to call the sheriff. He didn’t pick up. I figured phones near the stadium were still jammed.

It was 12 minutes to noon.

12 minutes to detonation, if Newport had been honest this time.

I grabbed the sonic gun and the canister of liquid nitrogen.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked with worried eyes.

“To diffuse a bomb,” I said, hustling toward the door.

Jack followed and called dispatch. He told them to radio thesheriff and let him know we were coming with a solution. We just had to get there in time.

We darted out of the lab and raced down the hallway. JD and I snatched up our pistols that had been left behind. At the end of the hallway, we rounded the corner with caution and stepped into the lobby.

Dugan was gone, as were the others.

We continued across to the main entrance, Emily following right behind. The three of us stepped out into the bright Florida sunshine. The glowing orb hovered straight overhead.

I looked at my watch—ten minutes until noon.

“We can take my car," Emily said.

We raced across the parking lot to her black Mercedes SUV. The doors flung open, and we piled into the comfy leather seats. She cranked up the engine, dropped it into gear, and barked the tires as she banked a U out of the lot.

With focused eyes, she blasted through the lever arm at the gate without slowing down. No time to wait for it to lift.

I didn’t see the guard. I figured he was long gone, probably one of Newport’s men.

Emily drove like a bat out of hell, her foot slammed to the floorboard.

I didn’t know what kind of progress the sheriff and the feds had made in evacuating the stadium. At this point, there could have been a full-scale riot, or the place could have cleared out.

The streets were relatively empty.

We flew past the few cars that were on the road. With several twists and turns, we made it to Stadium Row and approached the arena.

A sea of people still congregated around the stadium.

It was insane.

Emily pulled into the nearest gate, and a security guard stopped us. I rolled my window down, held out my badge, and shouted, “Coconut County! Move!”

The guard stepped aside, and Emily barrelled down the lane, weaving around pedestrians who wandered about, disrupting the flow of traffic, still pissed off.

A few fires burned throughout the lot, and several cop cars had been smashed and set ablaze. Glass sparkled like diamonds on the asphalt.

We crept through the crowd, people slapping and banging on body panels.

I leaned out the window, shouting, “Get out of the way. Now!”

Nobody listened.

People flipped me off.

I was tempted to use the sonic weapon on them, but thought better of it.

I looked at my watch again, my pulse pounding, adrenaline spiking my veins.