Blackout Read Online Free PDF

Josh could feel the bleeding starting to slow immediately. But the amount of blood loss was still worrying him. More than four pints and he'd pass out.
    The truck swerved violently as Josh struggled to keep control of the wheel as another bullet flew past them. Get a grip, man, Josh told himself. Or else we'll both be dead in the next few minutes.
    23
    The road stretched out in front of him. Dazzling sunlight was searing through the high windscreen of the Ranger. Josh flipped the sunshield down, protecting his eyes. He was struggling to focus. From a glance in the mirror, he could see the bike tracking him ten yards to his rear, the rider steadying himself on the machine again, his hand raised high in the air as he tried to line up the next shot.
    One of those is going to hit its target, Josh realised. That's just the law of averages.
    He started to swing the truck from side to side, jerking the wheel to produce an unpredictable, irregular motion. That was the first rule of any kind of evasive action: make yourself a hard target.
    / might be a hard target, but I'm still a big one. This truck weighs a ton and half. Hard to miss.
    JNow the swaying of the truck was starting to make-Josh feel sick. Blood loss had already weakened him and, with the violence of the vehicle's motion, he could feel his concentration draining away and his vision starting to blur again. Keep your grip, man, he told himself. You can do this.
    The bike was holding a steady distance, ten yards to his rear. Another shot. This time the bullet smashed through the window at the back of the Ranger, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces, sending it cascading forward across Josh and the woman like hard confetti. Tiny splinters of glass flicked across Josh's back, peppering the skin of his neck and getting into his hair. He could also feel a pair of wounds opening up, fresh blood streaming from the scabs.
    Makes no difference, thought Josh with grim resolve. / couldn't be in much worse shape than I am already.
    He heard the woman screaming: a long agonised howl of fear. Had the glass shattering broken her nerve? Josh reached across to her with his right hand, while his left held the steering wheel. There was one cut at the top of her neck, and a splinter of glass seemed to have lodged itself
    24
    underneath the skin. That would be painful to get out. But otherwise she was okay. 'We're all right,' hissed Josh, gasping for air.
    The bullet had travelled though the cab of the truck and drilled through the windscreen, one foot to the left of the driver's seat. A fissure had opened up down the centre of the glass, but although it had cracked it hadn't yet broken. Close, realised Josh. The rear window had deflected its path, steering the bullet slightly to the left. Without that deflection, the bullet would have landed a foot to the right. In the centre of my skull, Josh mused.
    He glanced in the mirror. The biker was still there, the pistol still raised in his right hand. You're not a bad shot, pal, Josh thought grudgingly.
    The rider's tactics weren't hard to figure out. The bike had plenty of power, more than enough to accelerate past the Ranger if he wanted to. He was just holding his position a steady ten yards behind, firing shot after shot after shot. Sooner or later, he was going to land one right into Josh's brain. And. the way he was shooting, it was going to be sooner rather than later.
    Josh jammed his foot hard on the accelerator. The Ranger might have a few years and many more miles on the clock, but there was still plenty of power in its 3.2 litre engine. Now that engine roared and revved, and Josh could feel the truck surging forward. He was up to a hundred miles an hour, skidding across the hot surface of the tarmac. Another glance in the mirror. The bike was still there, a steady ten yards behind him, the pistol already lined up for the next shot.
    I haven't the strength for a long chase, realised Josh. If I was fit and healthy, I might be able