Black Holes - The Mors Mortis Trilogy Book 3

Chapter Forty Seven

"Can't we go any faster?"

The words came out of Zarah's mouth filled with tension as she scanned the road ahead. The highway between Narra and Sydney was littered with debris and potholes the size of houses, but she couldn't help asking anyway.

It'd been a few hours since Danny had miraculously recovered and they'd returned to Leah's house to find the Brentons still 'dead' and Cassandra sprawled across the floor, one of her legs broken.

Cassandra had watched in silent shock as Danny moved her to the couch and splinted her leg back into place, staring at him like she'd never seen him before. It was only when he left to shower and change that her gaze finally travelled to Zarah.

"What the hell?" she asked.

Zarah's stomach had been bubbling with hope — the first time in weeks she'd felt anything even remotely positive — and the grin on her face was so wide she thought it might split.

"I think I know how to fix all of this," she'd said.

It'd only taken another hour to get everything organised: to find an abandoned car and hot-wire it (one of Danny's specialities, Zarah had found out), to load the two Brenton's into the back, to stock some water and food. And then they were off.

Another couple hours had passed since then though, and they still weren't anywhere near Sydney.

"We can't go any faster," Danny said.

He sat behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road as they jolted over another uneven patch of bitumen and they all bumped around in their seats.

"The grounds too unpredictable. We could blow a tyre, or crash."

Zarah knew he was right, but impatience still stabbed at her gut. She looked down at her hands as her fingers worried at her nail beds, the skin red and raw beneath. She forced her hands away from each other, placing them determinedly at her sides.

"Have we got any reception, then?" she asked, turning in her seat.

Cassandra sat propped up against one of the back doors, her leg stretched out and her seatbelt manoeuvred awkwardly across her chest.

"No," she said, her tone grim and her phone gripped in her hand. Even as she spoke, she glanced between Zarah and the screen, checking. "Nothing. I doubt the portals have left any of the mobile towers standing, but I'll keep trying."

Zarah nodded, but she knew disappointment and desperation was starting to coat her expression. They needed to get in contact with the others before they left Sydney, needed to tell them to stay put.

She turned back around to face the road, her expression strained, and Danny's hand moved to her thigh, giving her a quick squeeze.

"We'll get there, Zarah," he said softly.

A month ago, that kind of promise would've been enough for her. She would've trusted it. But too many things had gone wrong already and the attempted reassurances fell flat.

She wasn't about to call him out on it though. Danny was pretending he was fine, but she still noticed the way he grimaced every time they jolted around too much, his grip on the wheel growing tighter and his sentences shorter with every hour that passed. The fact he was dedicating any energy to reassuring her was sweet, even if ineffective.

They lurched into a particularly deep ditch, and Danny's hand flew from her thigh and back to the wheel. Zarah had a second of weightlessness as the car tipped and then they hit the bottom of it, crashing to a jolting stop.

The car was still upright though, and Zarah let out a breath of relief.

"Sorry," Danny said with a grimace, and he eased onto the accelerator, gravel scrunching as they steered back onto the road.