More eaters were on the road now, at
least twenty, all of them heading towards Alex. He glanced back at Micah, only
now noticing that Mavis’ car hadn’t started. The engine turned over a few times
and stopped. Micah looked at him through the windscreen and shook his head. He
tried the car again. It didn’t start.
Alex turned back towards
the horde of eaters in time to see the final car pull out, zigzagging across
the road as its panicked driver looked at the eaters instead of where he was
going. Alex’s eyes widened as the car headed straight at him. He grabbed the
bag and dived out of the way, crashing into a parked van as the car careered
past, right where he had been standing moments before.
“Seriously?!” he shouted at the car’s retreating bumper, rubbing his
shoulder where he’d collided with the van.
As the sound of its engine
faded, he heard two things. The moaning of at least a couple of dozen eaters
all determined to make him dinner, and the repeated turning over of a Thicar
engine.
Scrambling to his feet, he
ran back towards the white Nissan. The engine caught and revved as he
approached and he heard Micah whoop. He jumped into the passenger seat. The
engine promptly died again.
“What? No!” Micah said,
staring at the dashboard in horror. He looked at Alex. “What is it with you and
cars?”
“What do you mean me? You
shouldn’t have taken your foot off the accelerator.”
“I had to get into gear.” Micah
turned the key again. All the effort produced was a few lacklustre revs.
Alex stared out the window
at the approaching eaters. “Now would be good.”
“Shut up.”
He turned the key again. The
starter rolled sluggishly over and over. The eaters lurched closer, the first
few within ten feet now.
Suddenly, the engine
caught.
Micah exhaled loudly and
sat back, revving for what seemed like an age.
“Don’t you think we should
be leaving, Mike?” Alex said from between gritted teeth.
“Do you want it to die
again? And it’s Micah.”
“What?”
“You can call me Micah or
you can call me Mr Clarke, but don’t ever
call me Mike.”
The first eater reached
the car and slammed a bloody palm onto the window next to Alex.
“I’ll call you sweetheart
and bake you cupcakes if it will get us moving.”
About the Author
Nerys Wheatley has an
underabundance of excitement in her life and an overabundance of imagination
which is constantly making up stuff in her head. She writes fast moving, action
packed science fiction because she has to let the stories out somehow. She was
born in the UK, which makes her spelling just that bit more thrilling, and her
greatest wish is to wake up one day to find the remaining boxes
from when she moved house two years ago have magically unpacked themselves. It
hasn't happened yet, but she's not giving up hope.
Follow here at:
Website – http://neryswheatley.com/
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/neryswheatleyauthor/
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