The Belgians roared a mile up the road, then swerved off to the left onto a road that led toward the northwest.
"They're heading for Brussels, I'm pretty sure!" Freddy shouted as the wind howled past the car. "That Sergeant was right when he said it looks bad. It not only looks, but is!"
"The Germans sure must be pretty deep into the country," Dave agreed. "They.... Hey, Freddy! Gosh ... look! The whole road is exploding! Freddy...!"
The road ahead had suddenly burst open to spout a sea of blinding light and crashing sound. The two dispatch riders seemed to melt into it and disappear. Invisible hands grabbed hold of the small scouting car and tossed it straight up into the air. From a million miles away Dave heard Freddy screaming his name. Then he had the feeling of spinning end over end off through space that was filled with white hot fire and billowing thick black smoke. A hundred million wild, crazy thoughts whirled around in his brain, and then everything turned black, and became as silent as the grave.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Orders From Headquarters
It was a kindly face, and the smile was warm and friendly, yet somehow Dave Dawson couldn't keep it in focus. It would be close to him one moment and seem very real. Then a cloud would pass across in front of it and the face would fade out completely. He felt as though he had been trying to hold that face in his vision for years and years. He knew that the mouth was talking to him, too, but he couldn't hear a word.
Everything was so still and quiet about him, and so white. Everything that his eyes could see was white ... except that kind looking face. He'd stare at it hard, trying to bold it in focus, and then his eyes would become so heavy, and his brain would become so sleepy. He guessed that was the trouble; why he couldn't keep seeing that face for very long at a time. He'd fall off to sleep.