KA Mitchell - Collision Course.pdf - K.A. Mitchell - SilverWitch

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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

Collision Course

ISBN: 978-1-60504-348-7

Edited by Sasha Knight

Cover by Anne Cain

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written

permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: December 2008

www.samhainpublishing.com

Collision Course

K.A. Mitchell

Dedication

For my readers. Thank you.

Thank you, too, Bonnie, for helping me with my look at “the system.” And the title.

Phew.

Collision Course

Chapter One

Eighties dance music blasted through the Yaris’s speakers as Joey Miller flew down

the passing lane of I-10, dancing in his car. A quick glance at the clock on the dashboard

put a little hitch in his rhythm, so he cranked the volume up even higher as if the

vibrating beats per minute could make up for lost time.

Car-dancing kept him focused, the thump of the bass bouncing his gaze from mirror

to mirror to windshield, so he was able to react quickly when it happened.

The cars in front of him slowed. The truck flying up behind him didn’t.

A split second to react, and with the gift of clarity from the blast of adrenaline, Joey

was able to squeeze his Yaris into the right lane, just as the truck barreled into the dark

blue minivan that had been in front of him.

The brown pickup lifted the minivan, flinging it into the guardrail and over. Joey

swung back, grinding to a halt on the left shoulder as the minivan flew across the

opposite lanes, a final clip on the driver’s side sending it rolling over the far edge, down

an embankment.

He didn’t think. Didn’t wait for his heart to stop hammering all the way up to the

base of his skull. He rode the adrenaline wave right into rescue mode.

Even as he started to sprint across the road, Joey had his cell out and was dialing

911. The driver of the pickup seemed conscious, and other people were stopping. But

Joey knew he’d seen a kid in a car seat in that minivan, and he had to get there now.

He spat out the information to the dispatcher. “Three car accident. I-10.” He even

knew what exit, since he’d been clocking them to try to make up time. “I don’t know how

many injuries. There’s a child involved.”

He reached the minivan, which was now back up on its wheels, windshield gone,

driver’s window gone, back and front ends crumpled like paper. The driver’s door

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