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Chapter 30

Stu's clipped command was hardly necessary as he curled one strong arm around the iron legs of the bench where it was bolted to the floor, even as he tightened his other around her waist. There was a series of crashes she felt through the floor and then they tipped from the track and the world became a jumble.

Despite her intense fear, or maybe her senses were heightened because of it, she heard Freddie yelp as one of the legs on the bench he clung to broke free. Turning to look at Richard, she wondered who the little girl was that clung so tightly to his neck.

A body flew over them and slammed into the wall, or was it the floor? Summer squeezed her eyes tight as she endured a terrifying tumble into the river she so recently admired. As loudly as fear pulsed through her veins, Destruction's might roared louder.

Glass broke. It cracked. It shattered. It crunched.

Wood split. It creaked. It groaned. It snapped.

Metal stressed. It bent. It moaned. It snapped.

Debris bounced around like tossed salad greens. Slapped. Bumped. Crashed.

And the bodies. They cried. They whimpered and screamed.

And when the bodies slammed into something, the dull muted thumps twisted her stomach.

Summer would have clamped her hands over her ears to muffle the horror, were not already clutching Stuart's arm in a death grip.

Just when she thought she could bear no more, they landed in the stream with a jolt that nearly tore her free from Stuart's grip. The momentum of their tumble took everything not fastened down and threw it violently into a heap on the bottom. The bottom, she realized as she tentatively set her feet down and tested the surface, was the row of windows.

She stared at the dark spaces on the floor where the windows had been. There was dark -it was water seeping in and it was cold over her slippered feet.

It took a few moments for her to realize that Stuart was speaking to her.

"Summer!" she felt her body jerk as he gently shook her shoulders.

Finally, she forced her eyes up and gasped at the carnage.

"Are you alright?" he asked as Freddie and Richard began to move.

She stared and blinked, as she tried to make sense of standing on the side of the car. She was standing in the middle of the window she so recently gazed from. Everything was tipped and she felt herself leaning as if that would right the room. But for once, it was the world that was tipped, and not just her damaged limbs.

The benches -the ones that remained attached-stuck out from the wall like some bizarre art display. Holes filled the walls on all sides--holes lined with the jagged white edges where the wood splintered away. Bits of the undercarriage-or she thought it was the undercarriage, were scattered about in the mangled heap at the far side of the room.

The heap, she realized, was a moving moaning mass. Suddenly startled from her stupor she stepped forward and almost pitched onto her face as she tripped.

"Are you alright?" Freddie reached.

"Summer!" Stuart reached.

"Woah!" Richard reached.

With three sets of helping hands suddenly on her person she felt blessed and angry at the same time.

"I'm fine!" she almost snapped as the tension uncoiled from her stomach. Her arm jerked out as she pointed "But they're not!"

The Charlotte Series: Book 3: The Pretender's GoldWhere stories live. Discover now