Invisible Terror Collection (32 page)

Philip was happy to oblige.

He pushed harder on the accelerator. But as he picked up speed, so did the light. It was the same cat-and-mouse game they’d played before. The faster he went, the faster it went. Philip barely saw the road. He kept his eyes fixed on the object. It was hard to make out its exact size and shape. Sometimes it seemed as round as a ball, maybe seven feet across. Other times it looked like a flattened saucer, twenty feet in diameter.

But none of that mattered. All Philip knew was that somehow, some way, Krissi was a part of that light — and somehow, some way, he had to help her.

They hit the bend in the road. It curved to the right. He straightened it by cutting into the other lane. The General Store lay ahead. He screamed past it, doing between sixty and seventy miles an hour.

Suddenly, just past the store, the light took a hard left and disappeared into a newly cut driveway that wound deep into the woods. 

Philip hit the brakes. Immediately he knew he’d made a mistake. The damp fog had frozen, leaving a thin, icy glaze on the road.

The Jeep started to slide.

Everything turned to slow motion. He could feel the car sliding out of control. Spinning. Instinctively he cranked the wheel.

It did little good — he was going too fast.

Carnival rides flashed through his mind — the rides you have no control over, where you can only sit and scream until they’re over — but this ride was short-lived. The left front wheel caught the loose dirt of the shoulder. That was all it took. The dirt slowed the wheels, but the Jeep kept flying sideways.

The Jeep began rolling!

Philip clutched the wheel with his right hand and threw his left arm over his face. Tree trunks, the steep bank, and the road were all jumbled as his body slammed into the driver’s-side window, then was thrown up into the roof. The steering wheel jabbed into his legs as glass sprayed in all directions. He wondered dazedly how many times the vehicle was rolling when suddenly it came to a bone-jarring stop.

He’d hit a tree.

Thank God! He was upside down, but at least he wasn’t rolling anymore.

No sooner had Philip thought this than the Jeep shuddered and slid down a bank a dozen or so more feet before it finally came to a complete stop. A few pieces of glass tinkled; some clods of dirt fell from the spinning tires. But other than that there was silence … except for a faint crackling and popping.

Philip opened his eyes. He was inside, lying on the roof. A blue light flickered in rhythm with the crackling and popping.

It took a moment to register before he realized he hadn’t hit a tree — he’d hit a power pole.

He tried to move along the inside of the roof, but the shift-ing of his weight caused the car to creak forward. He looked out the windshield — and froze. A drop-off loomed directly ahead — seventy-five feet of sheer nothing.

Fear rose within him, but he fought it back. He moved again, more cautiously, and again the Jeep started to tip. He stopped.

Now he understood. The car was on its top, balancing on a rock or ledge or something. He was safe, but just barely. One wrong move, and he’d send the whole thing plummeting off the cliff.

Chapter 9

Scott heard the squealing tires and the sickening sound of crunching metal. He knew there’d been an accident just outside the store, but he didn’t care. How could he? His best friend had been brutally murdered.
He
had been brutally murdered.

With that type of tragedy, how could he pay attention to bother-some things like reality?

Still, he heard customers shouting to one another and rushing outside, so he figured he’d better join them. Reluctantly he snapped off the laptop, rose, and headed for the front door.

He hadn’t felt this bad since his father had died.

**********

Becka and Ryan bounced down the driveway in the Mustang, heading as fast as they could toward the main road. Ryan threw the car into a hard right, and they slid onto the asphalt. As he accelerated he shouted, “Where did that thing come from? It just exploded in front of us. One minute it was dark, the next minute brighter than daylight.”

“Remember what Z said about them popping in and out of another dimension?” 

Ryan glanced at her. “You’re thinking the spiritual world again?”

Becka looked straight ahead, hoping she was wrong — fear-ing she was right.

They rounded the bend in the road. Up ahead was the General Store. A handful of people were rushing out, running across the road.

“There’s Scotty!” Becka pointed to the front porch of the store, where her brother slouched against the stair railing, his hands in his pockets. Ryan turned the Mustang into the parking lot and skidded to a stop in front of him.

“Where’re they going? What happened?” Ryan shouted out the window.

Scott motioned across the road. “Some sort of accident.” Ryan spun around to look, but Becka stared at Scott. Something was wrong with her brother. “You okay?” she called.

He shrugged.

“Scotty, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Before Becka could pry any further, they heard the owner running back toward the store. He was red faced and puffing.

“Got to call 9-1-1!” he cried. “Some kid flipped his car.” Becka froze. Ryan was already opening his door. “What kind of car?”

“Jeep. The whole thing’s balancing on a ledge — could go any second.”

Becka leaped out of the car and joined Ryan. They started across the road. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Scott still looking lost. “It’s Philip!” she shouted.

He did not move.

“Will you come on?! It’s Philip!”

She turned and continued to the other side. When they arrived, they saw what the store owner had described. The Jeep had smashed into a power pole, which had stopped it from flipping over the edge.

The car had slid down the soft bank on its top a dozen or so feet until it came to rest on a narrow outcropping of rock. There it balanced precariously, teetering on the edge of the drop-off. The entire scene was bathed in the eerie blue-and-white sparks of a power line that snapped and crackled on the roadway.

“Oh, man … ,” Ryan whispered. Becka shook her head in stunned silence. They moved past the three or four spectators who were keeping their distance from the dancing cable.

“Philip?” Ryan called. “Philip, can you hear me?” A faint voice answered from inside the Jeep. “Ryan, is that you?” But even as he spoke, the car shifted forward.

“Don’t move!” Becka cried.

Ryan carefully negotiated past the sparking wire. Becka followed gingerly.

“Be careful!” an older woman shouted. “Better wait for the EMS.” The others agreed.

But Ryan knew they couldn’t wait. Not only was there Philip to worry about, there was Krissi. They moved to the edge of the road. A gentle slope of dirt and gravel led ten or fifteen feet farther to the outcropping of rock where the Jeep was balanced. Just past that was the cliff — and a whole lot of darkness.

Ryan called out, “Looks like you’re playing teeter-totter on this here cliff.”

“I figured it was something like that,” Philip shouted. “Listen, I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to help Krissi.”

“One catastrophe at a time, ol’ buddy.”

“You don’t understand.” Again the car shifted.

“Philip!” Becka warned.

“Let’s see if we can take care of you first,” Ryan suggested.

“We’ve got to hurry, we’ve got to — ” Again the car shifted.

“Philip!”

Philip quit talking and remained still.

Ryan motioned down to the outcropping of granite the Jeep balanced on. There were two, maybe three, extra feet of rock on the right side of the car. Plenty of room for a person to get a foothold and reach out to help Philip.

Becka followed his gaze, then turned on him. “Are you crazy?”

Again the car shifted.

Ryan looked at her. There was her answer. Even if they decided to wait for an EMS, it was doubtful the Jeep would. Already they could hear tiny rocks and bits of granite crumbling and slipping out from under the car. They had to act. Now.

Without another word, Ryan turned and began sliding down the soft slope toward the outcropping of rock. Becka started to follow until he turned to look up at her and demanded, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Same place you are.”

He looked at her, trying by sheer intimidation to force her back up the slope. It didn’t work.

“Guys?” Philip called. “The side window’s popped out.

Maybe I can crawl over to it and — ”

Again the Jeep tilted forward, only this time it slid an inch or two.

The spectators gasped.

“Philip!” Becka cried.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ryan suggested. He turned to give Becka one last look. She motioned him forward, making it clear that if he didn’t take the lead, she would. Reluctantly he turned and continued down the slope. The dirt and gravel slid with them, covering their shoes as they made their way down to the granite outcropping.

Since Ryan had the lead, he was the one to step onto the rock and stoop to look inside at Philip. He grinned. “Hey, bud, got anything for a black eye?”

“Oh, man,” Philip groaned. “I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s okay. Just don’t go getting yourself killed till I get a chance to even the score.”

Becka sighed. She hated “machoese.” But having a brother, she knew that type of talk was part of the male routine. Either that or one too many Schwarzenegger movies. She could never tell which.

She went to join Ryan. There wasn’t enough room for two on the rock, so she dug in and planted herself in the soft dirt beside him. She also grabbed on to a good, solid bush just to be safe.

“Hey, Beck,” Philip called from inside, “how’s everything going?”

“Could be better.”

“I hear you.” He shifted, and more rocks slipped from underneath the Jeep. “Any ideas what to do?”

“You can’t make it over to this passenger window?” Ryan asked.

“Not without everything giving way.”

“What if I were to reach in and grab you? What if I grab you, you hang on, and I pull you through the window?”

“You mean while the Jeep’s falling?” Philip tried to laugh, but it came out more like a semi-hysterical giggle. More rocks slid away.

“I don’t see any other way.” Ryan turned to Becka for confir-mation. Her mind was churning a thousand miles an hour, looking for an alternative plan, but he was right. The Jeep’s granite perch looked as though it would give way at any moment. There was no other plan.

“And if your hands slip?” Philip asked.

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me. Time to have a little faith, ol’ buddy.”

“This isn’t another one of your sermons, is it?” Ryan grinned. “Could be.”

“Could be I should just stay put.” Philip coughed and the Jeep creaked precariously. “Then again …” He swallowed hard and gave a recap. “Okay, let me get this straight.

I leap across the cab and grab your hand.”

“Check.”

“That movement sends the Jeep over the cliff.”

“Probably.”

“But you hang on and pull me through the window as it’s falling.”

“You got it.”

There was a long pause. Ryan and Becka exchanged glances.

It was risky, to say the least. But what else could they do?

Finally, Philip answered. “Okay.”

“All right.” Ryan repositioned his feet on the granite for the best stance.

Becka reached out and grabbed Ryan’s belt with her free hand, clinging to the bush with the other.

“Beck?”

“Yeah, Philip?”

“Would you, uh … I mean … would you mind like saying a little prayer?”

Becka was surprised. Then nervous. The last thing in the world she liked to do was to pray out loud. Especially in front of friends. She glanced to the handful of people up on the road. Or in front of crowds.

Still, this was no time for cowardice.

“Sure, Phil,” she said, her voice coming out a little hoarse.

More rocks gave way.

“Could you do it, like, soon?”

Becka didn’t close her eyes. She looked straight ahead and concentrated on the dirt in front of her. “Dear Lord.” She cleared her throat. “Lord, we just ask that you help us do this right. Give Ryan the strength to hang on, and Philip … give him the faith to let go and jump. In your name, Jesus … Amen.” Ryan muttered a quiet “Amen.” Though she wasn’t sure, Becka thought she heard one come from Philip too. 

“Well.” Philip took a deep breath. “You guys ready?” Ryan tested his footing one last time and reached his hand into the window. “Let’s do it.”

“You sure you’ve forgiven me about that black eye?” Philip said, unable to resist one last chuckle. “Because if you haven’t, maybe we should — ”

Without further warning, the last of the loose granite slipped away. The Jeep started to slide.

“Philip!” Becka cried.

“Jump!” Ryan shouted. “Jump!”

Philip froze.

“What are you waiting for? Jump!”

The Jeep was sliding away. Without thinking, Ryan lunged into the window.

“Ryan!” Becka screamed as the car’s motion pulled him from her grasp. She leaped toward him, grabbing with both hands.

She caught his legs and hit the ground. She would not let go. She hung on, pulling him back out of the window as the Jeep continued to slide. She could hear him cry out as the door scraped across his stomach, then banged its way up his ribs, but she hung on until he emerged.

He wasn’t alone.

Ryan had grabbed Philip and was hanging on as stubbornly as Becka. His hands were locked on to Philip’s wrists in a death grip.

The Jeep continued sliding.

Becka was pulled across the rocky ledge. She still held on to Ryan, who still held on to Philip. Now it was Philip’s turn to scream as his upper body scraped through the open window — but his legs still weren’t free, and the force of the Jeep’s descent pulled all three along the granite toward the precipice.

Becka tried to dig in her feet, her knees, her elbows, anything to slow them down. Ryan did likewise until Philip managed to kick his way out through the window, and he was free — just as the Jeep reached the edge and slipped over, doing a graceful one-and-a-half gainer seventy-five feet into oblivion.