The Blood Guard (The Blood Guard series) by Carter Roy Read Free Book Online Page A

train tracks sat high on a gravel-covered embankment. A dozen feet below us, the ground moved past in a colorful rush.
    The noise was deafenin g — t he sharp whine of the brakes, the banging of the train wheels, the air blasting into the car. Greta’s ponytail blew apart, obscuring her face in a cloud of red.
    “I reckon we’re going no faster than ten miles an hour,” Dawkins shouted. “The train will be at a full stop in a few minutes.” He tossed the satchel he’d been holding out the door. It tumbled end over end before disappearing in a thorny bush. Then he took the duffel from me and threw it after the first bag along with the sword he’d been holding.
    Resting a hand on my shoulder, Dawkins leaned close to my ear. “The trick to not getting hurt is to keep your arms and legs close to your body and just let yourself roll.”
    “Getting hurt?” I repeated. “Once we stop it won’ t — ”
    Dawkins’ hand clenched my shoulder hard, and with his other hand he grabbed the waistband of my jeans. Before I knew what was happening, I was airborne.
    He’d thrown me off the train.

C H A PT E R 6 :
    ALL MESSED UP AND NO PLACE TO GO
    A half second later, my feet slammed into the gravelly embankment, and I fell forward, hard. What happened next might be called “rolling,” but that sounds like I had some control over it.
    I screamed the whole time.
    After a few seconds, I came to a stop and lay there hacking, the wind knocked out of me. I’d skinned my hands, and I had dust in my mouth and eyes, but I didn’t think I’d busted anything.
    As the screech of the train’s brakes faded away, I heard something else: indignant yelling. Twenty feet away, Greta was sitting cross-legged in the dirt, pounding her fists against her knees and hollering curses until she ran out of air.
    Then Dawkins himself leaped out. He tucked himself into a ball, did a perfect little roll like some kind of martial arts movie star, and came up on his feet. He clapped his hands against his clothes to shake off the dust, then jogged our way, waving happily.
    As he came nearer, Dawkins called out, “Sorry about that, you tw o — b ut there wasn’t time to ease you into it.”
    “You threw me from the train!” I shouted.
    “Right. And this is me apologizing. Now let’s go collect the luggage and clean ourselves up.” He dusted off my shoulders. “You look okay to me. How are you feeling?”
    “Bruised.”
    “You guys are in so much trouble,” Greta muttered. She took her phone out of her pocket and began typing on it agai n — p robably finishing the text to her dad.
    With a yell, Dawkins plucked the phone from her hands, dashed it to the ground, and then stomped on it. There was a sad soft crunching sound.
    Greta worked her jaw silently for a moment before finally blurting out, “You ruined my phone!”
    “Yeah, sorry,” Dawkins said. “There’s GPS in those things, you know.”
    “What, you think they won’t figure out you jumped off the train?” she said, raising her fists and swinging at him like she knew what she was doing.
    “Easy there, slugger!” Dawkins said, skittering backward and raising his palms. “Sure, they’ll know we’ve scarpered, but I’d rather not make locating us too easy. So no phones.” He pointed across the scrubby plain, to a sprawling truck stop alongside the highway. “Come o n — I thought we’d go to that petrol station yonder.” There were several low-slung buildings and gas pumps, all of them crowded with eighteen-wheeler semis and cars. The place was busy. Even from this distance I could see people milling about like ants on a countertop.
    Beside me Greta said, “This guy is super corn nuts crazypants. You get that, right?”
    “Whatever gave you that idea?” I asked.
    “Don’t get smart with me, Evelyn Ronan Truelove.”
    “He saved us when those guys attacked us with swords.”
    “What makes you think they were after us ? Did it occur to you that maybe they were after