A String of Beads by Thomas Perry Read Free Book Online

said, “Yes you do. Nobody who lived close by would choose to spend the night
     in a shit house.” There was no rancor in his voice, but no kindness either. It was
     simply an observation, a fact.
    “We figured the rain will stop before long,” she said.
    “You’re probably right,” the man said. “Tell you what. I’ll hang out for a while,
     so you’ll be safe, and when it stops, I’ll give you a ride.”
    “We’re fine,” Jimmy said. “We don’t really need a ride.”
    The man chuckled. “Hell, the two of you sitting in here shivering wet, you need some
     adult supervision. First thing you got to do is get some dry clothes. That hand dryer
     over there work?”
    “Yes,” said Jimmy. “But we’re fine.”
    “I wasn’t thinking of you so much as her,” said the man. He kept talking as though
     nothing they said mattered, looking straight at Jane. “A young girl like you could
     catch her death sitting all night in wet clothes.” He leaned forward to look at her.
     “I’ve seen that happen. What’s your name?”
    Jimmy said to Jane, “I think the rain’s slowing down. Let’s go.” He began rolling
     his sleeping bag.
    “Okay,” the man said to Jane. “I’ll give you a name, then. How about Jenny? Or Jill.
     Or—”
    “Thanks for the offer, but we’re leaving,” Jane said. She began to pack her things
     hurriedly.
    “If you’re too shy to change among friends, I’ll help you,” the man said, and stepped
     toward her.
    Jimmy lunged and collided with the man in a football tackle that pushed him into the
     wall, but the man wasn’t entirely taken by surprise. When Jimmy tried to disentangle
     himself and fight, the man held him in a headlock and punched him in the face three
     times, then brought his knee up into Jimmy’s face. Then the man tossed him to the
     concrete floor, where he lay unmoving.
    “Your playmate’s plan seems to have slipped his mind,” said the man as he took his
     next step toward her. “If you’d like to take your clothes off yourself, get started.”
    Jane’s hand was already in Jimmy’s backpack feeling for the gun. She closed her fingers
     around the handgrips just as the man clutched her arm. He yanked her arm up out of
     the backpack, but with it came the gun, and Jane pulled the trigger.
    The shot was a bright flash of spitting sparks, and the small caliber charge gave
     a loud, reverberating report in the tiny concrete room. The man completed his tug
     and pulled Jane to her feet, but she didn’t release the gun. Instead, she squeezed
     the trigger and the bright light and loud noise ripped the air again. It was then
     that the man realized he had been hit by the first round. “Bitch.”
    Jane kicked her foot toward his groin, and probably missed, but she kicked his thigh
     where he had been shot, and he pushed off backward and retreated toward the door.
    “Wait,” Jane yelled. “Take out your car keys and drop them on the floor.”
    “Are you kidding?”
    She gripped the gun with both hands to keep it from shaking. “Do it.”
    The man began to fumble in his pocket.
    “Pull a knife,” she said. “Please try it.”
    He changed hands and pockets, and then dropped the keys at his feet.
    Jane said, “That’s it then. I’m not the only one with a gun. When he wakes up, he’s
     going to be mad. If you’re not gone, he might kill you. So get going.”
    “How am I supposed to walk out there after you shot me in the leg?”
    “It’s not my problem, but you’d better get as far as you can, because if either of
     us ever sees you again anywhere, we’ll kill you.”
    The man went out through the door, and she heard the spring pull it shut. Jane moved
     to stand along the wall at the hinge side of the door, the gun in her hand, watching
     the door for the next half hour before Jimmy came back into consciousness. Now as
     the grown-up Jane approached the rest area in daylight, she thought about the fourteen-year-old
     boy who had taken that