Page 90 of River & Rue

Dan snorts. “Sounds like Kirk found the culprit.”

“Who the hell is Gilbert?” asks Maya.

River and I exchange a wide-eyed glance.

Movement on the central path leading to the Lodge catches my eye. I squint, tracking the streak of white as it passes behind trees. When it rounds the next curve, my jaw drops.

Oh crap.

My vantage point at the top of the stairs means I’m the first to see the driverless golf cart hurtling toward the courtyard.

“Everyone get up here,” I yell, pointing toward the path. “It’s coming right for us!”

Larissa laughs. “What are you⁠—”

“She’s right,” River snaps. “Listen.”

The high-pitched buzzing of an electric engine reaches our ears, increasing in volume by the second. As everyone turns toward the sound, the golf cart careens around the final bend and becomes visible. Also visible: it’s increasing velocity.

Dan yelps and grabs Maya’s arm. They haul ass toward me, Jae on their heels. River is a handful of steps behind him.

Larissa stands immobile, gaping at the golf cart headed directly at her.

“Larissa, move!” hollers Dan.

River looks over his shoulder. He doesn’t hesitate, spinning and sprinting back toward Larissa.

My heart skips.

Maya’s fingers bite into my arm.

The golf cart hits the flagstones at full speed.

Ten feet, five feet…

River tackles Larissa with seconds to spare. They hit the ground hard, River taking the brunt as he protects Larissa. They roll several feet before coming to a stop.

Jae whispers, “Thank god.”

I don’t breathe until River sits up, then my gaze snaps back to the golf cart that shows no signs of slowing as it races for the Lodge.

Kirk runs into the courtyard, his face scarlet, arms pumping hard.

“You’re done, Gil! I’m never speaking to you again!”

The golf cart’s horn beeps as it swerves intentionally around a cluster of patio furniture.

Dan staggers backward. “How… what…”

Jae murmurs, “Strange.”

“Guys?” Maya asks tightly. “Do you think it can drive up the stairs?”

We don’t find out. In the next moment, the golf cart’s brakes activate. Wheels screech and slide as it slows and finally stops with a gentle bump against the lowest step. The machine sags. There’s one last, warbling beep of its horn before the buzz of the engine cuts off.

Kirk staggers to a halt beside the cart. Hands on his knees, he looks up at us.

“You kids all right?”