CHAPTER 36

66 12 5
                                    

I don't know what it is with Collective agents and strangulation. It makes me think of Zero's goal: to restrict the population's freedom by controlling their minds. Their game is a mental form of choking someone's personal rights away, and it seems to play itself out in how their assassins kill people. I mean, I'm sure they have a variety of ways to end a life, but recently, I've found myself with Agent 24's hands around my throat and now my dad's, too.

My dad grimaces and strains as he squeezes my neck tighter. Since we're near the left edge of Trailer 1, I twist my head around and glimpse the Jeep.

Kayla leans out of the window again, taking aim at the belt of grenades draped over the hitch between the two trailers. The drone isn't firing, and the diesel isn't swerving over, trying to crush them against the cliff face.

I gag as my dad's hands squeeze more tightly, but the process of asphyxiation has just begun. First, I'll pass out from lack of oxygen to the brain. Then, as he continues to suffocate me, I'll die.

Ding, ding, ding...

If I can reverse roles and somehow give my dad a sudden lack of oxygen to the brain, that might be an alternative to knocking him unconscious. If I can't knock him out, maybe I can choke him to death? Well, not to death, but to sleep? He'd suffer a temporary blackout, and that might free him from the Mind Bender's stranglehold on his mind.

I wrestle against his grasp, attempting to remove his hands from my throat, but his grip is too strong.

Kayla fires a three-round burst—the grenades don't explode.

I figure the reason the drone hasn't launched another missile is because of how close the Jeep is to the semi. Also, the truck driver hasn't swerved over to slam the Jeep against the cliff face again, probably to allow space for the drone to fire. But thankfully, the operator of the drone doesn't feel the driver has allowed enough room for another launch. That means we have a window to pull everything off and win the day.

Kayla squeezes off another three-round rat-a-tat-tat, back-to-back.

Another miss.

If we get out of this, I mean, if I get out of this, I'm going to suggest she sign up for target practice. But I know she'll come through in the end. I've just got to believe that. I've got to have confidence, because that's what I'll need to get the upper hand on my dad.

As Kayla aims again, the semi driver gives up on the drone operator and swings the truck over, forcing her back inside the Jeep. The crumpled remains of the SUV's quarter panel, doors, and fenders take another spark flying beating from both sides as the semi and the mountainside grind what used to be a beautiful vehicle into mangled steel and fiber-glass.

When the semi pulls away, Kayla's door rips off and cartwheels down the highway. Fortunately, she's buckled in with an unrestricted view of the trailer hitch and the grenades.

She pulls the trigger.

My dad's gaze switches from me to Kayla. He snarls and jumps off of me. Wanders back to the rear of Trailer 1.

I choke on the air, trying to creep its way into my throat and lungs.

When I catch my breath, I struggle to sit up and realize my dad suspects Kayla is up to no good, and he's right. The instant realization crystalizes in his mind—he spins around and bolts away from the end of the trailer, but he's a split second too late.

Kayla hits the mark.

One little bullet obliterates one little grenade, and from that, an instantaneous chain reaction.

As Agent 24 slams the brakes on the Jeep to get clear of the explosion, eleven grenades blow a crater in the road beneath Trailer 2. The rear wheels of the trailer drop into the hole a split second after the front end explodes upward.

Shrapnel and flames rip apart the front of Trailer 2 and blow a chunk off the end of Trailer 1.

The shock wave from the blast bowls over my dad, nearly knocking him off the far edge of the trailer, almost sending him plummeting to his death down the steep mountain slope.

To my surprise, the grenades that were positioned higher on the hitch propel shrapnel into the sky and shred the drone's left wing. The wing separates and the aircraft, which had been flying too close to the action, spirals in a death roll over our heads and slams into the rocky mountainside, exploding into flames.

While my dad rises to his hands and knees, reeling from the concussive force that blasted him to the deck, the front end of Trailer 2 crashes down into the roadway. The jagged remains of the trailer skid away to the right, toward the sheer drop-off down the mountainside, and burst through the guardrail. My dad pushes up to a knee and wags his head. As he rids himself of the effects of the heatwave that struck him, I watch as Trailer 2, engulfed in flames, slides over the edge of the road and plunges down the face of the mountain. It tumbles end over end and smashes into a crumpled heap of steel.

When the trailer comes to rest at the bottom of the valley, the fire spreads, and it explodes into a super-heated mushroom that scorches the sky and earth. I don't know what made it blow up in such a manner—maybe they were carrying C4 or something else—but the flames annihilate Trailer 2. Inside it were the Mind Benders, the latest versions, that ensnared my dad's mind, maybe forever. But I can't give up, I have to keep trying. That means facing my dad, Agent 1, in what could be an epic battle.

I push up and stand—amazed that only one flying fragment of shrapnel struck my dad. As we stare each other down, he rips the jagged piece of metal from his shoulder and tosses it aside.

He doesn't flinch or cry out; he just glares at me. "It's go time. Last man standing wins."

Then he storms toward me, and before I know it, the fight resumes.

AGENT 23 BLACKOUT (Agent 23 Book 1)Where stories live. Discover now