These Starcrossed Lives of Ours by Megan Linski Read Free Book Online

there.
    I began heading out of town, down the long highway next to the high school after I got away from Main Street. I ran the whole length, as far as I could until I nearly collapsed. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but driven by fear I harshly put one foot in front of the other until my heart felt like it would burst. I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing. Ian had planned on making me dinner. As a trailer passed me on the road a couple of cows mooed from the inside, and I vaguely wished that I was with them.
    It had been about two hours before I realized I had gone in a circle. By this time, it was night. I had stumbled into a cornfield and somehow wandered my way back to Main Street, my eyes never seeing anything but Annabelle’s willing face, my feet unable to stop. By this time of night the town was deserted. I walked down the center of the road, stumbling as if drunk, hoping a car would come and end this nightmare.
    My aimless wandering led me down to the UAW hall, near a bridge that slowly crumbled over the River Raisin. By this river was a tank, a WWII machine that was meant to kill and destroy. I gaped at the tank, transfixed, unable to tear my eyes away. Why was mankind bent on ending one another, ending itself? This giant tank was nothing more than an elaborate suicide machine, a weapon meant to murder others before turning on itself...
    As I was backing away from the tank I didn’t pay attention to where I was going. My foot caught on a broken slab of concrete and I tumbled backwards head over heels, skidding down the side of a sharp slope that led to a hill under the bridge. When I finally stopped tumbling my feet were in the water and my head was pounding. The bridge was above me, shielding me from view, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the long extended pipe of the tank.
    The temperature was falling fast. I closed my eyes and curled up in a ball, wanting the world above me to stop spinning. In my dreams, the nose of the tank turned to point at me.
     

Ian
    Christie had been gone for too long. It was midnight and I hadn’t seen any sign of her since we’d separated in town. All the festivities in town were done, and I definitely knew that there was nothing worth seeing in Manchester this time of night. Did her attacker find her? I thought before banishing the thought from my head. Manchester was safe. It was virtually invisible to everyone who didn’t live here. The chances of her being found here were slim to none. When it was 3 AM and she still hadn’t shown up I went to bed, hoping she’d be back in the morning.
    The living room was empty when I woke up. I went to work, thinking that maybe she’d just met some friends and decided to hang out with them, but when I came back she was still gone. Maybe she left for good, I thought, my stomach falling to my feet.
    I shook myself out of it. No. For some stupid reason, I didn’t think she would leave. Not without saying goodbye. I called in sick for the next day and hopped in my truck, driving all around town to try and find her. When I didn’t see her I circled the surrounding area, Chelsea, Saline, Tecumseh, Ann Arbor, hoping I caught a glimpse of her. I never did.
    Now I was starting to panic. I searched all through the night and into the afternoon of the next day, checking in the exact same places I already had. I drifted along at a slow pace while scanning the road, pissing off everyone behind me. Right now I couldn’t really care less.
    Dammit Christie, I thought. Where are you?
     
     
     
     

Chapter Four
    Christine
     
    I had been lying underneath the bridge for three days. I hadn’t eaten, and I had barely slept. I was waiting to die, waiting for my body to slowly waste away or freeze to death. It was almost cold enough, but not quite. In a few more days, it would be.
    “Christie!” Ian’s panicked voice called above me at the edge of the bridge and I winced at the sound. “Christie!”
    I knew he spotted me. I heard the sound of