The Pact (Kate Burkholder #11.5) - Linda Castillo Page 0,2

up his knapsack. Next to him, Kevin knelt, hefted his backpack onto his shoulder. The boys kicked dirt onto the campfire. Smoke wafted into the air as the fire smothered. The light died, casting them into darkness.

Aaron reached into his knapsack for his flashlight. “I don’t believe that stupid legend about the scarecrow.”

Darkness pressed down on him with an almost physical force. The wind had kicked up, hissing through the treetops, dry autumn leaves whispering as he passed. Lightning flickered on the horizon, telling him the storm would be here soon. Noah Kline wasn’t worried about any of it. He’d walked this road hundreds of times. He knew every tree, culvert, and field along the way. Tonight, a tornado could swoop down from the heavens and he wouldn’t care.

The only thing that mattered tonight was that he’d kissed the girl he loved. It was their first, a moment he’d anticipated for weeks, and he’d been grinning like a fool since leaving the high school. That had been twenty minutes ago and already he couldn’t wait to see her again. Ashley Hodges was the sweetest, prettiest girl God had ever put on this earth, and Noah loved her more than his own life.

As perfect as all of that was, Noah wasn’t so blind that he didn’t see the troubled waters ahead. His parents disapproved of him dating a non-Amish girl. They hadn’t come right out and said it, but he figured they were quietly hoping he’d break up with her once his rumspringa was over. As much as he hated the thought of disappointing them, that wasn’t going to happen.

Ashley’s parents were even less thrilled; he’d known it the first time he met her father and he’d started with the questions. Did you graduate from high school? Do you have any plans for college? How are you going to get a good job and support yourself when you don’t even drive a car? Noah had answered as best he could, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the man wasn’t impressed.

It didn’t matter. Ashley was his world, and nothing could change that. They were in love. Somehow, they’d make it work.

Noah was thinking about the kiss again when he noticed the headlights behind him. It was unusual to see a vehicle on this stretch of road so late. There were only a handful of farms out this way, most of which were Amish. It was probably Mr. and Mrs. Boedecker coming home from a movie—it was Saturday night, after all. Or else someone was lost.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Noah moved onto the shoulder and kept walking. The farm where he lived with his parents and six siblings was a mile or so down the road. Hopefully, he’d make it home before the sky opened up. He picked up the pace. Headlights washed over him. Behind him, the vehicle’s engine revved. Someone was in a hurry, he thought. Scooting right another couple of feet, he glanced over his shoulder. Bright headlights blinded him. The vehicle was moving fast. Too fast for this narrow, pitted back road. He sidestepped onto the grassy shoulder and kept moving.

Tires skittered on gravel, pebbles pinging in the wheel wells. Right behind him. Startled, Noah spun, blinded, threw up a hand to shield his eyes against the glare. “What the—”

The impact knocked him off his feet. Pain shot from his hip to his knee. His body cartwheeled. The world went silent for an instant. Then he sprawled face down in the ditch.

Noah lay still a moment, gasping and dazed, trying to get air into his lungs. Pain coursed through his leg, an electric pulse that zinged with every beat of his heart. Vaguely, he was aware that the vehicle had stopped, the engine rumbling. A groan squeezed from his throat when he rolled. A drumroll of pain in his arm. Nothing broken, so he struggled to his hands and knees and looked around. The vehicle idled thirty feet away. It must have done a U-turn because it was facing him, the headlights blinding.

Noah thought the driver would have gotten out by now to see if he was all right. In the back of his mind, he wondered if maybe the driver had been texting or drinking, and accidentally veered onto the shoulder.

“Hey.” Noah raised his hand. “I’m okay!” he called out.

Dust swirled in the yellow shafts of the beams. No one got out. Noah got to his feet, a cymbal of pain clanging