Black River by G. M. Ford Read Free Book Online Page A

floor and then the unmistakable scrape of a shoe.
    They moved in unison. Ramón held the automatic up by his right ear and started moving toward the noise. Gerardo required no prompting. He ran for the car.
    Ramón eased along the oil drums, keeping himself covered in case the intruder was armed. He squatted and peeked around the corner. Got just enough of a look to see it was a woman, before the shadow disappeared behind the truck.
    He abandoned his caution now and broke into a full sprint; his long legs propelling him forward into the gloom. By the time he reached the center of the room, he realized he’d been too careful; she was halfway to the office door.
    Have to take her on the fly, he thought. No problem.
    He began sidestepping to his left, looking for a better angle of fire. Detached and calm, he waited for her shadow to appear in the halo of the office door. He could hear the slap of her boots on the floor. He smiled as he raised the gun. And suddenly there she was, awash in the office lights, wearing some sort of black cape. He saw her face, the wide eyes as she glanced over her shoulder into the darkness, the deep-red lipstick. He sighted down the barrel. Exhaled.
    And then his left foot came down on something metal and irregular, and with a pop his ankle rolled beneath him, sending bolts of agony shooting up and down his lower leg. The pain sent him lurching forward, hopping on his good foot. Ahead in the gloom, the office door slammed the wall and then ricocheted itself closed again. He cursed himself and hobbled after the retreating shadow.
    Reduced to quarter speed, he gimped the distance and threw open the office door. His ankle was on fire as he hobbled around the counter. The exterior door flapped in the wind, its metal blind clanking to and fro. Above the roar of the wind and rain, he heard an engine start. He cursed again and limped out the door, silenced automatic held with both hands.
    Five yards to his left, a peeling blue Toyota fish-tailed in the muddy gravel, its rear end swinging out of control as the tires fought for traction. Ramón could barely make out the shape of the driver through the fogged rear window. He aimed and squeezed off a shot. The rear window shattered and disappeared. He could see the back of her head clearly now, the black hair bouncing as she fought the wheel, trying to keep the careening little car on a straight line.
    Bitch don’t get lucky twice, he thought to himself.
    He aimed carefully. The little car was going nowhere, its tires spinning in the mud. Fifteen feet to the back of her head. He smiled, exhaled, and began the slow pull of the trigger, just as the rear end of the car swung back to the left. Suddenly finding firmer ground, the spinning tires spewed a hail of mud and gravel back into his face, choking him, blinding him, sending his silenced shot sailing off into space.
    Ramón wiped his face with his sleeve and then choked as he spit out a small rock. Again, he pawed at the debris on his face but managed only to spread the glop around. His right eye was filled with mud, his left a mere slit. Mouth awash in grit, he was still trying to clear his vision when Gerardo slid the Mercedes to a stop.
    “Come on, man!” Gerardo screamed. “Come on!”
    Ramón limped around the front of the car and threw himself into the passenger seat. Gerardo tromped on the accelerator, rocketing the car forward, slamming the passenger door, forcing Ramón to brace himself with his bad foot. He groaned in pain.
    Gerardo held the accelerator to the floor. The Toyota was fifty yards ahead, speeding toward the gate, throwing up a rooster tail of mud in its wake.
    “We gotta get her,” Ramón said through clenched teeth. “No matter what.”
    The Toyota became airborne as it bounced out the gate. The Mercedes had already made up half the distance. Ahead, a half mile of access easement connected the construction yard with the collection of warehouses and loading docks that ran along