Distant reminders of the demonic screeching continue to pulse in the back of my mind while warm liquid trickles from my ear. I squeeze it with the palm of my hand to help relieve the pulsing. Quickly, Genna skids across two lanes to reach the side of the road. Her tires screech in protest against the oncoming traffic. A few people honk their horns and swerve around us. Rolls of nausea wave across my stomach, making it nearly impossible not to beg her to slow down, but I know Genna is trying her best to get us to safety.
Genna parks her car and gently brushes my matted hair out of the way. She oddly stops and cuts her eyes towards the dark, stormy clouds above us before looking back down directly at me with full concern.
"I better call for help, Brea." Her voice remains calm, but her act
