The Newton Prophecies

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

DiBianco shoved the Newton Paper into his shirt pocket and glanced at the mass of cars surrounding them. He had to get out of there. But how? He couldn't drive. They were packed in like sardines. His head filled with dozens of possible escapes. He followed each to conclusion. They all ended in capture, or worse.
         "Crystal." DiBianco nudged her shoulder.
         She didn't awaken. Didn't even move.
         "Please..." He nudged harder. "Wake up!"
         She opened her eyes and gazed around a moment, then glanced down and jolted upright, covering her exposed bra with her trembling hands. "What's going on?"
         DiBianco fought the urge to defend himself; he knew they had little time to fool around. "We need to get out of here." His voice was stern, but soft--almost a whisper. The officers were getting close, wasting no time in their search.
         "What are you doing?" Crystal's voice was almost panicked. She acted like she had no recollection of what had happened.
         "I don't know what you're thinking, but I haven't touched you." DiBianco's voice was defensive, yet quiet. "You survived an explosion. I found you wandering the streets. I helped you."
         Her striking blue eyes went wide with terror; slicking over with moisture, they released a river of fear and uncertainty down her trembling blush-streaked cheeks. "You!" Her voiced carried far beyond the interior of the idling mustang. "You had me tied up! You tried to kill me!"
         DiBianco couldn't believe his ears; the people in the car next to them couldn't believe it either.
         Shhhh.
         He lifted a finger to her lips. "Quiet, please. I beg you... Shut up!"
         She screamed.
         Her voice turned all eyes on them.
         Two officers, just yards away, glared at them with sudden recognition. DiBianco watched the men stare at each other; one shouted a few words into his walky-talky, then ran. Yet, oddly, not toward the mustang.
         DiBianco could no longer see the officers. His gut wrenched with fear. Panic sank his heart and drove molten spikes through his nerves. Sweat poured from his forehead. His hands shook. He tried to hold them steady, then found himself fighting off a serious bout of blurred vision. It was the worst panic attack he had experienced in years--he thought, the worst in his life.

† † †

         After the avalanche settled and the ground hardened over in a solid white blinding wasteland, Michael ran, tears flooding his eyes, heart racing a mile a second; he ran toward the spot where he last saw his father get devoured by the beast.
         Plopping down on the calm icy surface, Michael franticly heaved fistfuls of the heavy ice and snow, knowing all along that every second he fought to save his father's life, was a second his mother had to suffer.
         He followed them the best he could, but somewhere, somehow, along the way, he had lost sight of his mother.
         Michael heaved massive chunks of snow from the hole with his arms--scraping, digging, pulling with all his might. The hole grew bigger and bigger. Then he felt something. He dug more. There was a hand. Rejuvenated, Michael dug faster, harder. Thoughts of his mother filled his mind and his heart.
         "I'm sorry mom," he cried. "I love you." He dug and dug. His father's hair stuck up out of the snow. He wasn't moving, he wasn't making any noise. "God, I'm too late!" Tears streamed his face. "God help me. I'm so sorry!"

† † †

         Both mustang doors shot open. Crystal and DiBianco were yanked from the vehicle.
         DiBianco didn't fight. He couldn't.
         Darkness swiftly took over.

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