Half Past Midnight by Jeff Brackett Read Free Book Online

that there is someone down there, and they kill us,” I said bluntly. “Or even if they just capture us and try to ransom us for the supplies in the van. Do you think Megan could handle a situation like that on her own?”
    Debra was quiet, thinking. Finally, she shrugged. “Okay, you’re right. One of us needs to stay with the kids. But I still think that I should do the scouting. I’m smaller and quieter, so I have a better chance of getting in and out without being seen.”
    “But if there’s trouble, I’m the one who’s trained to handle it,” I countered.
    I pulled a quarter out of my pocket. “Flip you for it.”

Chapter 4
* * June 13 / 6:03 p.m. * *
     
    Le bras pendant à la iambe liee,
Visage pasle, au sein poignard caché,
Trois qui seront iurez de la meslee
Au grand de Genues sera le fer laschee.
    His arm hung and leg bound,
Face pale, dagger hidden in his bosom,
Three who will be sworn in the fray
Against the great one of Genoa will the steel be unleashed.
    Nostradamus – Century 5, Quatrain 28
    Watching the van as it passed around a curve and out of sight, I slipped the two-headed quarter back into my pocket. They would wait at a roadside park we had passed a mile back until six forty. No more, no less. That gave me just over half an hour.
    If I hadn’t made it back by then, Debra had agreed to backtrack and detour around the area, taking the longer alternate route. I had assured her I would follow as soon as possible. It would mean driving an additional eighty miles, but that was better than ending up as part of the litter problem on the other side of the hill.
    I pushed the Suzuki into the woods and slipped among the trees to head over the hill. I made my way about halfway down the hill, then stopped to scan for any signs of life. Nothing.
    I moved on down, slipping from tree to tree as quietly as possible, alert for any indication that I’d been seen. Finally, I drew alongside the rearmost vehicle.
    The station wagon, about twenty years old, with what had once been imitation wood grain trim, was about twenty feet from the tree I hid behind, so I had an excellent view. In the scorched mass of melted plastic and charred paint, I saw that the windshield had shattered, and wispy tendrils of melted plastic trailed from the chromed border. The hood was blackened, and black streaks trailed down the fender. Even the front tires were melted.
    Astonishingly, the rear of the vehicle was nearly untouched except for the windows, which were all networked with the millions of breaks characteristic of overstressed safety glass. I figured the heat had probably done that, since I spotted no apparent points of impact.
    The idea of impact brought another thought to mind, and I quickly reexamined the wagon. I sighed in relief at the lack of bullet holes, at least not on the side I could see. Checking the other side would mean leaving the cover of the trees, and I wasn’t willing to risk that yet, not until I was reasonably sure there wasn’t a sentry, or ax murderer, or whatever hiding somewhere in the trees on my side of the road.
    I glanced at my watch. Only five minutes had passed since I’d come over the hill.
    Yeah, I thought, time sure flies when you’re having fun.
    It took another ten minutes of sneaking around to convince myself that no one lurked in the trees on my side of the road. Unfortunately, I also confirmed that there had been an ambush. Both vans and all of the bodies were riddled with holes, and I saw enough broken glass to tell me how the attack had probably gone.
    An initial barrage of Molotov cocktails inundated the convoy, panicking the drivers and their passengers. They abandoned their vehicles, only to be cut down by snipers in the trees. The end result lay before me. Six bodies and four gutted vehicles.
    I checked my watch. Nearly half of my time had passed, and I still had to search the other side. If it proved safe, I needed to drag the bodies out of sight. I hesitated for a moment