Peak Oil by Arno Joubert Read Free Book Online

girl stood there, staring at Alexa.  
    “Guess what I have?” she asked Alexa, holding one arm behind her back.  
    Alexa smiled and lifted the girl up onto her lap. “I don't know. Show me.”  
    Mary-Lou held up her hand with a flourish and handed a small photo to Alexa. “You’re beautiful. Just like the girl in the picture.”  
    “Thank you, my darling.” Alexa studied the photo and her eyes widened. “Where did you find this, Mary-Lou?” She handed the passport-sized photo of herself to Neil.  
    Mary-Lou shrugged. “The man that fell. I found it in his pocket.”
    “Where?” Alexa asked.
    Mary-Lou jumped down from Alexa's lap. “Come, I’ll show you,” she shouted as she bolted out the door.

     

Mary-Lou dashed down the hill toward the road, and Neil and Alexa jogged to keep pace. A hundred yards farther down, she stopped at the main road for a second and scanned left and right. Mary-Lou looked over her shoulder to make sure that she was still being followed.
    “Grandma Pauline says to always look left and right before crossing the road,” she said to them. Neil grabbed her hand as an oil tanker rumbled past.  
    Mary-Lou pulled him across the road and stopped at the bus stop. She pointed to a spot next to it. “There, that’s where he was sleeping.”
    “So you took his wallet?” Neil asked with a frown.
    She nodded. “I found it on the ground. I only took the picture of the pretty lady, I promise,” Mary-Lou said and crossed her heart. “And I put the wallet back in his pocket.”
    Neil walked around the bus stop, kicking at some clumps of grass. Alexa examined the surrounding area but found nothing useful.
    Alexa blew back a strand of dark hair from her eyebrow. “Do you know what the man looked like?”
    The girl shrugged. “He was asleep; I couldn’t see.”
    Neil scanned up and down the road. A side road led to a small bus terminal nestled between some trees. Two hundred yards down the road, he could make out a leafy suburb. No sign of any movement in the road.
    Alexa nodded. “Okay then, let’s go finish our burgers and try to piece this together.”
    They walked back up the hill toward the Ocelot Inn, and Mary-Lou held Neil’s hand, skipping merrily as she went.

     

Chris Fitch stood, leaning against the wall of the greengrocer across the road, out of sight. He studied the three people walking up the hill.  
    The man was tall and solidly built; he had a bounce in his step, like an athlete. The dark-headed woman was a beauty, a head shorter than the man. She had a musical voice that reminded him of bells when she laughed.  
    He took a final puff from his Marlboro, flicked it onto the sidewalk, and ground it with the heel of his boot. He fumbled in his pockets for a cell phone and punched in a number.
    “McAllister’s Mortuary, this is Mac speaking.”
    “Mac, Chris. You taken care of the Frenchies like my dad asked you to?”
    “Yep. Cremated this morning.” The man laughed. “Not a dry eye in the house.”
    Chris Fitch nodded, fanning his face with his Stetson. “You’re going to handle the accident?” he asked.
    “Yep. Already on it,” Mac said.
    Chris Fitch nodded. He disconnected the call and glanced toward the roof of the Ocelot Inn that was visible at the top of the hill. Poor Missy.

Reg Voelkner opened his eyes, but he couldn’t see a thing. His ribs throbbed, and it felt as if his brain was about to explode. He propped himself up but felt himself being firmly pushed back down.  
    “Shush now, lay back down. Do you know where you are?” a gentle female voice asked.
    He shook his head. He could barely move his neck.
    “You’re in Saint Josephine’s Clinic in Dabbort Creek, Texas. My name is Nurse Betty Parker. Can you remember what happened to you?”
    Voelkner scanned his memory banks. “Bar fight,” he whispered hoarsely. He had probably broken his back; he couldn’t feel his legs.
    “That’s right. You were messed up badly. You took a beer