The Survivors: Book One

They plunged into the fire at high speed, the heat rising, and then they were through, coming out unharmed on the other side. Temperature instantly cooler, the path Marc picked went downhill steeply, winding in long, bone-jarring bumps. The flames hadn't been through this brown and green terrain yet and Marc was encouraged. Maybe they had gotten out in time…because of Angie.

He could still see the flames in his mirror, though, and when he spotted the animals following White Creek, he headed for it too, eased them down into the half a foot of casually flowing water. He rolled slowly down the middle of the creek, looking for the dirt path he'd only been on twice. It was nearly inaccessible to anything but a bike, 4x4, or jeep, and it would take the fire a long time to spread up the huge hill.

Spotting it, he headed them gently that way, being careful not to kill any of the animals still darting into the water for safety. "Remember how we used to ride dirt bikes behind Daniel's house?"

"Yes."

"This is trickier. Stay a few lengths behind, and remember that an uncontrolled slide doesn't happen unless you hit the brakes too hard."

Angela had to grin at his tone. It said he was eager for the next thrill, like when they were young. The fun they'd had together was something she hadn't allowed herself to think about in a very long time. She just couldn't deal with the crushing pain and anger without Kenny sensing it and reacting badly (violently), and it still hit her at odd times that she was now free to think about anything she wanted. "You lead, I'll follow."

Since when? Marc shifted gears as adrenaline raced through him, and he could almost feel her catch his mutter and smile.

He went up the steep hill with an easy burst of speed, and Angela counted to five before following, glad when he didn't seem to have any trouble with the dark, muddy-looking path.

His Blazer fishtailed as it hit the top, though, brake lights flashing briefly before he dropped suddenly out of sight. Heart in her throat, Angela hit the gas harder as she neared the top, and only tapped the brakes as her 4x4 started to drop into thin air.

She saw Marc half way up the next hill, and then she had her hands full as gravity pulled hard and she landed on a narrow path that shot downward at an awful, left tilt. The Blazer slid heavily, thick gobs of mud spraying the trees. Her hands worked the wheel, foot on the gas, and she just made the turn, shooting up the hill Marc was disappearing over.