“Randy,” he muttered. “Randy Cobb. I ain’t supposed to be here.”
The name landed heavily.
Evelyn Carter knew that name.
Randy Cobb wasn’t just another angry man with a temper. He ran meth routes through three counties, stripped stolen cars in hidden barns, and had a reputation for making people disappear when they became inconvenient. Six years earlier, his crew had been involved in a violent armed robbery at the Carter family hardware store that ended in flames and a hospital room where Evelyn’s daughter-in-law and unborn grandson had supposedly died during emergency surgery.
Or so they had been told.
Evelyn’s trembling hand reached weakly for Noah’s wrist, fingers brushing the scars there.
“You hold on,” she whispered fiercely despite the blood loss. “My son’s coming.”
Noah didn’t understand the promise in her tone.
But in the distance, a low rumble began to rise.
Part 2 – The Sound of Thunder
For nearly twenty-five minutes, Noah held pressure against Evelyn Carter’s wound, his small arms shaking from exhaustion and hunger. Sweat dripped into his eyes. His stomach cramped sharply. He tasted salt and fear and dust.
