23
" He stared down at her for a moment, wanting to heal every
cut on her soft skin. But he couldn’t, not yet. He needed to get her,
and her car, far from this place so neither he nor Kate would be
implicated in any way with the gruesome murder site.
It also meant he would have to drive.
In all his years, he had never driven an automobile. The closest he
had come was watching various assistants through the years as they
chauffeured him. He wasn’t sure he could even remember how to
start the car, but right now he had no choice.
Grudgingly, he got into the driver’s seat, and finding the lever
underneath, he pushed it back so he sat comfortably behind the
wheel. After trying three different keys, he found one that slipped into
the ignition.
From what he had seen over the past hundred years, driving was
not a complex operation, and he was an immortal with reflexes far
more keen than a human man.
How difficult could it be?
He turned the key and nearly jerked the wheel off the steering
column when the car surprised him by lurching forward. The car went
silent. The engine wasn’t running. What was he doing wrong?
He stared at the gearshift, wondering if he should move it. His
frustration reared up, but his agitation would not make the car drive
itself. He had to keep a cool head.
Not knowing what else to try, he pushed one of the pedals at his
feet to the floor and turned the key again. This time the car didn’t
move, and it roared to life. Grasping the gearshift, he jammed it into
the first position and glanced over at Kate.
Why couldn’t she have owned a car with an automatic
transmission?
Shaking his head, he put some pressure on the gas pedal and
slowly released the clutch. Thankfully the car rolled a few feet, but
without warning it jumped forward. He pressed the clutch back to the
floor before the engine lost power again.
Calisto slammed his hand against the wheel, muttering under his
breath in Spanish. At this rate it would take him all night to drive her
home.
The faded yellow convertible pitched forward again, threatening
to stall as he continued out of the parking lot, thankful it was late. The
streets were fairly empty. At least he wouldn’t get into an accident
with another car. Her car staggered ahead, lurching each time he
tried to release the clutch, bouncing and jostling them both until Kate
finally stirred and woke up.
§
“Are we out of gas or something?”
Calisto watched her with a tight smile. “Not exactly.”
Kate winced in pain when she laughed. “You can’t drive a stickshift,
can you?”
“Does it show?” Calisto pulled over, finally allowing the engine to
stall.
She nodded her head slowly to avoid more pain. “Just a little.
What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I remember being mugged. And I remember seeing you, but
everything after that is blank.” She watched his eyes as Calisto
reached over to brush her hair back from her face, and his touch sent
shivers through her body. This wasn’t how she had hoped she would
run into him, but she learned a long time ago fate didn’t always work
out the way you expected. "
― Lisa Kessler , Night Walker (Night, #1)
24
" Why have your followers all drawn their swords, may I ask?" said Aslan." May it please Your High Majesty," said the second Mouse, whose name was Peepiceek, " we are all waiting to cut off our own tails if our Chief must go without his. We will not bear the shame of wearing an honor which is denied to the High Mouse." " Ah!" roared Aslan. " You have conquered me. You have great hearts. Not for the sake of your dignity, Reepicheep, but for the love that is between you and your people, and still more for the kindness your people showed me long ago when you ate away the cords that bound me on the Stone Table (and it was then, though you have long forgotten it, that you began to be Talking Mice), you shall have your tail again. "
25
" On the second and the third night there was again a ball -- this time in mid-ocean, during a furious storm sweeping over the ocean, which roared like a funeral mass and rolled up mountainous seas fringed with mourning silvery foam. The Devil, who from the rocks of Gibraltar, the stony gateway of two worlds, watched the ship vanish into night and storm, could hardly distinguish from behind the snow the innumerable fiery eyes of the ship. The Devil was as huge as a cliff, but the ship was even bigger, a many-storied, many-stacked giant, created by the arrogance of the New Man with his ancient heart. "
― , The Gentleman from San Francisco and Other Stories
31
" It was Christmas night in the Castle of the Forest Sauvage, and all around length. It hung on the boughs of the forest trees in rounded lumps, even better than apple-blossom, and occasionally slid off the roofs of the village when it saw the chance of falling on some amusing character and giving pleasure to all. The boys made snowballs with it, but never put stones in them to hurt each other, and the dogs, when they were taken out to scombre, bit it and rolled in it, and looked surprised but delighted when they vanished into the bigger drifts. There was skating on the moat, which roared with the gliding bones which they used for skates, while hot chestnuts and spiced mead were served on the bank to all and sundry. The owls hooted. The cooks put out plenty of crumbs for the small birds. The villagers brought out their red mufflers. Sir Ector’s face shone redder even than these. And reddest of all shone the cottage fires down the main street of an evening, "
― T.H. White , The Once and Future King (The Once and Future King, #1-4)
32
" She looked... She looked young, and- and--" I glanced down at Rossana gazing up at me, lips parted, eyes shining, her hair loose around her shoulders, and the next words I spoke were intended with no artifice at all. " She is almost as beautiful as you." There was laughter, and I looked up, confused. " If you wish to pay court to my daughter, Matteo, you must first speak to me," Captain dell'Orte said in mock severity. Rossana's face colored pink." Elizabetta is also very beautiful," I said quickly, thinking to cover any embarassment, but also because it was true. The adults roared with laughter. " Now Matteo seeks to woo both girls with one compliment. "
33
" The food is ready,” Zil announced to loud cheers.
“But we have something more important to do, first, before we can eat.”
Groans.
“We have to carry out some justice.”
That earned a silent stare until Turk and Hank started raising their hands and yelling, showing the crowd how to act.
“This mutant, this nonhuman scum here, this freak Hunter…” Zil pointed, arm stretched out, at his captive. “This chud deliberately murdered my best friend, Harry.”
“Na troo,” Hunter said. His mouth still didn’t work right. Brain damage, Zil supposed, from the little knock on his head. Half of Hunter’s face drooped like it wasn’t quite attached right. It made it easier for the crowd of kids to sneer at him, and Hunter, yelling in his drooling retard voice, wasn’t helping his case.
“He’s a killer!” Zil cried suddenly, smacking his fist into his palm.
“A freak! A mutant!” he cried. “And we know what they’re like, right? They always have enough food. They run everything. They’re in charge and we’re all starving. Is that some kind of coincidence? No way.”
“Na troo,” Hunter moaned again.
“Take him!” Zil cried to Antoine and Hank. “Take him, the murdering mutant scum!”
They seized Hunter by the arms. He could walk, but only by dragging one leg. They half carried, half marched him across the plaza. They dragged him up the church steps.
“Now,” Zil said, “here is how we’re going to do this.” He waved his hand toward the rope that Lance was unspooling back through the plaza.
An expectant pause. A dangerous, giddy feeling. The smell of the meat had them all crazy. Zil could feel it.
“You all want some of this delicious venison?”
They roared their assent.
“Then you’ll all grab on to the rope. "
― Michael Grant , Hunger (Gone, #2)
37
" The things of your life arrived in their own time, like a train you had to catch. Sometimes this was easy, all you had to do was step onto it, the train was plush and comfortable and full of people smiling at you in a hush, and a conductor who punched your ticket and tousled your head with his big hand, saying, Ain’t you pretty, ain’t you the prettiest girl now, lucky lady taking a big train trip with your daddy, while you sank into the dreamy softness of your seat and sipped ginger ale from a can and watched the world float in magical silence past your window, the tall buildings of the city in the crisp autumn light and then the backs of the houses with laundry flapping and a crossing with gates where a boy was waving from his bicycle, and then the woods and fields and a single cow eating grass.......
.....Because sometimes it was one way, easy, and sometimes it was the other, not easy; the things of your life roared down to you and it was all you could do to grab hold and hang on. Your old life ended, and the train took you away to another... "
― Justin Cronin , The Passage (The Passage, #1)
38
" She roared with laughter. Passersby gave her strange looks, but she didn’t care. If she’d been able to stretch her vision to see beyond the trees he disappeared behind, she would have stopped laughing. She would have seen the couple who’d been in the dark street near the restaurant the previous night, again breaking into laughter when he felt it was safe to abandon the Wally persona. Everywhere she saw that one man, she didn’t see the woman behind him, with him, beside him, urging him on, supporting him. If she had, she might have wondered then who the display was really for. "
― Cecelia Ahern , How to Fall in Love
