Renegade Runner Nicole Conway (christmas read aloud txt) 📖

Renegade Runner

Nick Ruther

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this world of fiction.

Copyright © 2020 by Nicole Conway

DBA Nick Ruther

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Title and cover design by Covered by Nicole

For Katie G.

My favorite mountain goat.

Contents

1. RUN

2. STOLEN GOODS

3. THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE

4. THE NEW KID

5. BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE

6. ORIENTATION

7. HERE, KITTY KITTY

8. TAKING OUT THE TRASH

9. START YOUR ENGINES

10. HANGTIME

11. OUT OF THE FRYING PAN

12. ALIEN BIRD

13. THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE ALIEN

14. HIDE AND SEEK

15. BAIT, SWITCH, BOOM

16. MISDIRECTED

17. SECRETS

18. SMOKE SIGNALS

19. CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE

20. FLY IT LIKE YOU STOLE IT

21. PLAN B

22. IMPACT

23. SIGNS FROM ABOVE

24. DOCTOR, DOCTOR

25. FULL FRONTAL

26. JUST FRIENDS

27. INTO THE EYE

28. WINGWALKER

29. JUST JUMP

30. FALLING

31. GUIDING STAR

32. CRYSTAL PERSUASION

33. DEATH VALLEY

34. FINISH IT

35. RADIANT

36. AFTERMATH

37. WELCOME TO TEAM SUCK

38. BATTLE DRESS

39. SAY CHEESE

40. OH, IT’S ON NOW

41. BIG ALIEN JERKFACE

42. PRESS PLAY

43. FROM THE FLAMES

44. RAIDER WITH A CAUSE

Ready For Race Two?

MORE FROM NICK RUTHER

Acknowledgments

1

RUN

Thump … thump … thump … thump …

The muffled sound of my feet hitting the pavement kept a steady rhythm in time with the pulse of music in my ears. My ponytail swished against my back and neck, clumped and wet with sweat. The heavy humidity in the air made each gasp feel like I was trying to breathe through a straw.

But I couldn’t stop smiling.

This—being in my zone—felt too good. My favorite songs raging in my ears, driving my pulse and pace and taking my mind to faraway places. The familiar Florida heat, humid and filled with the smell of summer honeysuckle and freshly cut grass. This was my center. My calm. My happy place.

This was home. And had been for as long as I could remember.

Up ahead, our house stood at the far end of a winding county road lined with live oak trees draped in Spanish moss and steep hillsides covered in a living green carpet of kudzu. My calves burned. Just a little farther. Almost home. Then I could grab a cold shower, and maybe talk Mom into mixing up one of my protein shakes. They always tasted better when she made them.

I stumbled, nearly tripping over my own feet as I lurched to a sudden halt. I stared at the front of my house. Mom’s little car sat, still running, parked out in the middle of the road with the driver’s side door wide open.

But Mom was nowhere in sight.

I pulled my earbuds out, the music immediately giving way to the ambient droning buzz of cicadas as I jogged over to peer inside. Mom’s purse sat on the passenger seat and the engine hummed, the door ajar alarm dinging musically.

Okay. Weird … Why would she leave the car like this?

Reaching in, I grabbed her purse and switched off the car. Maybe she’d hit something? Or gotten sick again? Or had had to run in to go to the bathroom?

“Mom?” I called out, turning back toward the house.

Our front door stood wide open, swaying ever-so-slightly in the last afternoon breeze.

My stomach fluttered and flipped. Okay, now that was extra weird. Something about this felt … wrong. Where was she? Why would she have left the door open like that?

I dashed up the steps and paused in the doorway. “Hey, Mom? Is everything okay?” I tried again. “Do you want me to move the car into the driveway?”

No answer.

A cold shiver raced up my spine. The old wooden floorboards creaked as I stepped inside, peering around into the living room. Nothing. No one there. Not even a single light had been switched on.

“M-Mom?” My voice trembled. Creeping down the hall, I peeked into the kitchen. Still no one.

Panic made my throat go tight. What if she’d collapsed again? Should I go ahead and dial 9-1-1 just in case?

A crash from the bedroom at the far end of the hall made every muscle in my body go stiff.

“Mom!” I started for her room at a sprint, bursting through the doorway.

My heart stopped.

A scream died in my throat as I stood frozen, staring in horror at two monstrous figures. They crouched over my mom, who was sprawled, motionless, on the bedroom floor. Tall and sinewy, with long arms and legs, and bluish skin that seemed like it had been stretched too tightly over an emaciated frame—What the hell were they? The creatures snapped their bulbous heads up at once. Their wide, tennis-ball-sized eyes blinked at me, as though they were just as shocked as I was.

Time seemed to stop, like I was suspended in that terrible moment for an eternity. I stared at them, then at Mom, then back at them.

Mom’s eyes suddenly flew open. Her mouth gaped wide as she sucked in a rattling, desperate breath and pitched wildly. The two monsters recoiled, hissing in dismay as she looked toward me and let out a garbled, earsplitting cry. Her eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly, turquoise light.

“BRINNA, RUN!”

2

STOLEN GOODS

“Pulse is still elevated,” a squeaking, squealing voice slurred through an erratic range of pitches, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

My eyes—why couldn’t I open my eyes?

Tremors racked my body. My jaw locked. Every muscle quivered, like I’d stuck my fingers in an electrical socket. What was happening to me? Where was I?

My eyelids fluttered, giving fleeting glimpses of white light pouring down from above as my