Apophis by Eliza Lentzski Read Free Book Online

churning legs to go faster.
    My father was almost at the scene.  I wondered why the bandits hadn’t yet spotted either of us, but I supposed they were too preoccupied with scaring the shit out of the car’s passengers.  I didn’t know what they were trying to achieve by destroying the car and potentially the people inside.  It’s not like there was much to gain survival-wise unless the back half of the car was stacked with canned goods or gun ammo.  I immediately thought about the destroyed pole barn in our backyard and wondered if the human race had moved beyond survival mode now to a place of such despair that cruelty was a welcomed distraction from reality.
    I sucked in a sharp gasp of surprise when I saw my father tackle the bandit standing near the front driver’s side door.  My father was a big man – tall with broad shoulders.  He’d played tight end at the local state university back in his college days.  The bandit fell hard to the ground with my father’s weight on top.  The crowbar loosened from his hands from the force of my father’s attack.  
    My father’s antics caught the attention of the second highway leech.  Before the second man could jump into the fray and help out his friend, I had reached the car.  Not thinking, I leapt onto his back.  I ripped my gloves off and began clawing at the man’s face, aiming for his eyes.  He cried out first from surprise that someone was clinging to him like a backpack and then secondly because my ragged nails were slicing into his face.  I chewed my nails out of boredom and it’s not like I’d had the foresight to pack nail clippers and a nail file in my survival pack.  Space was limited; things like tweezers and nail snips had to be forfeited for more practical things.
    My father must have knocked his man unconscious because he was on his feet again in a matter of minutes.  He grabbed the crowbar his assailant had dropped.  I saw him lift the weapon above his head.  “Sam!” he called.
    Using the man as a springboard, I leapt from his back and tucked forward.  I led with my right shoulder and ducked my head down to roll, unharmed and untouched, a few feet away.  My father’s crowbar connected first with the remaining man’s shoulder.  He shrieked in pain from the blow.  When the metal weapon connected with his shin next, he howled again and dropped to his knees.  My father swung the crowbar back like it was a 9-iron and he followed through.  The end of the crowbar caught the bandit’s chin.  His head snapped up, his eyes closed, and he fell face forward onto the ground.
    My father was breathing heavy.  I stared down at the bandit sprawled at my feet.  I didn’t know if he was dead or merely unconscious, but I didn’t care.  I knew from where my father’s aggression had come.  I had felt it, too.  These two bandits, regardless if they were complicit in my mother’s death, were a symbol.  And my dad had kicked their ass.
     
     
    I heard the groan of metal grinding on metal.  The driver’s side door of the white SUV opened with some difficulty.  The bandits had practically collapsed the entire driver’s side panel with their crowbars.
    “What the hell were you thinking?” my father yelled at me.
    “I could ask you the same thing,” I snapped back.  “When did you turn into a superhero?”
    A thin man with a long face and salt-and-pepper hair shakily climbed out of the car.  He held the palm of his hand tight against his forehead. I could see the crimson dribble of blood seeping through his fingers.
    “Thank you.” He coughed violently. “Those men came out of nowhere.”
    My father’s figure was still tense, as if he didn’t trust the car’s driver not to attack.
    My grandmother finally caught up with us.  Her cheeks were red and she was breathing heavier than usual.  I immediately felt guilty for running off and leaving her behind.
    “What do we have here?” she asked.  Her icy blue eyes trained on