The Terminals by Royce Scott Buckingham Read Free Book Online

headed toward the bluff again. The giant followed. Speed was Cam’s greatest physical asset. He was fast. He had to be to earn the starting right wing spot on a college soccer team. But somehow the big guy kept up. Cam risked a look back. The guy cranked his powerful legs awkwardly, but rapidly, looking almost as though he was unused to his own surprising speed. Cam turned on the afterburners, his feet churning in the sand. Still, he heard heavy breathing close behind. Impossible , he thought. A guy that big running that fast would have to be a pro football prospect, not a dying tumor patient.
    Stopping to grapple the monster was unthinkable, especially with a useless arm. But getting pulled down from behind would be no better, and embarrassing. Cam felt like he was on a breakaway with the soccer ball and being chased. A player was always a step slower when handling the ball. He recalled a move he used sometimes on those occasions. His coach hated it, but it always resulted in a foul by the defender and a direct kick. He slowed just enough to let his mammoth pursuer get within reach of him, and then he stopped suddenly, ducked, and braced himself.
    Given his bulk, speed, and inelegant gait, there was no way for his pursuer to stop. He tumbled over Cam and went down in the sand. Still upright, Cam didn’t waste a moment. He dashed onward, the seconds he’d gained enough to give him an insurmountable lead.
    He passed the fourth condo at a dead sprint, his own now in sight. He glanced waterward and skyward. Nothing between him and the doorway but sand. His numb arm dangled as he ran, flopping against his side. He hoped it wasn’t permanent. I’m right-handed, for god’s sake.
    Just then the sand, the only thing in his way, reached out and grabbed his ankle. Cam careened forward. Unable to catch himself with his dead arm, he hit the beach with his face. His mouth filled with grit but he closed his eyes quickly enough that he was not blinded. He flipped over and saw a slim hand wrapped around his leg. Kicking it away, he scrambled to get to his feet. But the sand erupted, and a figure from beneath it rose with him.
    She was on her feet before he was. Female. Obviously female, given the accoutrements the nineteen-year-old had squeezed into her shorty wetsuit. With the light-colored sand shaken loose, her savagely chopped hair was as dark as her eyes. She was well muscled too. He could see the corded tendons in her legs, and her abs were rippled neoprene. He lost a split second staring at her while she lifted one foot. Then it shot out and struck him square in the chest. Cam flew backward and landed on his butt. She paused to fumble for something dangling from her belt. Cam didn’t stay to fight. He was already in bad shape. He didn’t need another dart in the arm, pole to the head, or foot in the chest. Wheezing, he pushed himself up with his left hand and staggered onward. He did not look back and didn’t hear footsteps behind him. Nor did he risk looking over his shoulder. He was almost up to speed, the condo was a short sprint now, and turning would only slow him down.
    As Cam approached, a boy peeked out of his hut. He looked young, had a slight build, and considered Cam through deep-set eyes. He nodded approval and waved Cam on. Ari , Cam realized. This was his roommate. Cam also understood that Ari would not be an obstacle. Cam ran the last few yards toward him, until he saw Ari wince.
    Cam considered ducking and should have. The cord hit the back of his neck, and the heavy ends of the bolo whipped around his throat so fast that Cam didn’t even realize what was happening until the paint-filled balls smacked together beneath his chin, burst open, and painted his chest red.
    â€œTagged,” the female voice behind him said, not without some satisfaction.

 
    CAM’S PLAYLIST
    5. SMELLS LIKE MONDAY   
    by Cheez Whiz
    6. THE OATH
    by Slinky
    7. HEY, I KNOW THIS SONG
    by The