The Chosen One - Carol Lynch Williams Page 0,48

to the floor. He doesn’t even slow down for potholes now.

Behind us a siren goes on. I can see the flash of the lights in the mirror.

“Oh no oh no,” I say. “Oh no.”

We race, and I know, like I know I may never see my family again, that we’re racing for our lives. The scenery flies past. I’ve never gone this fast before. Not ever. Not when I’ve driven with my mothers or when I’ve driven by myself. The sage and fencing seem like a blur.

The police car drives up next to us. I see Sheriff Felix in the front. He motions with his gun for us to pull over.

I scream so loud I hurt my own ears.

“Damn it,” Patrick says. “This old thing won’t go faster than seventy-five.”

We hit a large hole and books smack onto the carpeted floor behind me. Patrick’s Big Gulp drink trembles in the cup holder.

“There’s someone else,” Patrick says. He clutches the steering wheel. His knuckles are white. His face has lost all color. I can tell he’s scared.

I’m scared. I am so scared I think I might throw up.

Again I look out the back in the mirror. As soon as I see the black Hummers, I know we’re doomed.

“This is kidnapping,” Sheriff Felix says through a loudspeaker. “Pull over.”

“We just have to make it to the Ironton County line,” Patrick says. Only he says it like he’s been running for miles, not driving.

The police car pulls in front of us, and slows down. A Hummer moves in on the side, and one closes in at the back.

“Hold on, Kyra,” Patrick says. “I’m not slowing down.” And as if to prove it, the van hits the back of Sheriff Felix’s car.

“Ohnoohnoohno,” I say. And then I start praying out loud. “Dear God, help us. Help us. Keep us safe. Help us. Please, God.”

A car from behind rams the van. My head snaps forward, the seat belt catching me before I’m thrown into the dashboard.

“Amen,” Patrick says.

“Please, God, please. I’m sorry. Help us. Please.”

“Kyra,” Patrick says. “Get my cell phone.”

With his head he nods to the glove compartment. I open it. There it is. A slim black phone. “Not too much farther up the road and we’ll get service,” he says. “Turn it on now. When we get close enough, the phone will make a chirrup sound. The face will light up. Then you call nine-one-one.”

“All right,” I say.

I press the On button. My hands shake as I watch the cell phone.

There’s no service at all.

“Just a little farther, baby,” Patrick says to the Ironton County Mobile Library on Wheels.

“Come on, baby,” I say.

A Hummer slams into the side of the van.

We swerve. More books fall from the shelves. The Big Gulp cup topples, splashing soda on my dress and legs.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh God. Dearest Father. Please help us. Please get us to safety.” My hands are clenched so tight I feel my nails cutting into my palms. My shoulder belt presses against my ribs and it hurts.

The Hummer hits us again. The picture of Emily and Nathan flutters to the floor.

Patrick slams on the brakes and the car behind us hits us. We swerve, running off the road. Back on. Dust billows. My mouth won’t close. A small sound escapes me. The car comes to a halt next to a ditch and the van teeters. And then slides into the hole. Books scatter everywhere. Patrick and I are trapped. And there’s still no service on the phone.

Patrick is suspended above me, his seat belt holding him. He kicks himself free. I’m lying on the door. He’s bleeding. Blood drips down his chin, splats on my face and on the window next to me.

“Sorry,” he says. And then, “Hide that phone. Run when they get us out of here, Kyra. And there’s an extra key in the Ks.”

“What?”

Patrick doesn’t answer and I only have a chance to tuck the phone away.

Then they have us both out. On our knees. Hands locked behind us. Heads bent. In the sun of the late afternoon.

_______

BROTHER FELIX TAKES ME away in the police car. I watch Patrick as we leave. I see them kick him over and over. I see him fall to the side. One of the God Squad pulls Patrick to his knees again.

My screaming won’t stop. Not even when the sheriff hits me in the mouth, resplitting my lips. I taste blood. But I can’t stop watching Patrick, who goes in and