Blind Faith Read Online Free PDF Page A

aliens."
    With a measured hand, the Colonel poured batter onto the griddle, forming perfectly symmetrical pancakes, each a regulation three inches in diameter. "What the hell would illegal aliens want here?"
    "They could hide out in the caves up on Snakehead. Just like in Nam."
    Silence descended as The Colonel turned and stared at George for a long moment. George had the good grace to blush and look down into his coffee cup.
    "You don't know nothing about nothing, George. Been watching the History channel too much is all." The Colonel turned back to finish Sarah's pancakes, flipping them onto a plate and sliding the plate in front of her in one fluid motion.
    "Yeah, mebbee. But you didn't see those lights. Moving up and down, across the dam, vanishing into thin air."
    "You sure it was a person? Maybe it was some kind of natural phenomena." Sarah doused her short stack with maple syrup collected from the forest behind her house. "Snakehead's known for its fog and mists, especially this time of year."
    Hal Waverly came in and sat down beside her, unfolding his paper and nodding as the Colonel poured him coffee. He and Sarah had grown up here in Hopewell together, been friends since they were eight, but these past two years, she felt like she’d lost track of Hal. He was always there, always helping, but she’d never before noticed the creases that had dug their way into the corners of his eyes or the dark circles that hung beneath them.
    Guilt made her look away—how much else going on around her in the past two years had she been blind to?
    "You mean like swamp gas or them northern lights we saw last year?” George said, still going on about his mysterious lights. “No sir, this was near to the ground. And it moved. Hal, when you gonna get someone up there to check it? What do we pay you good money for anyway?"
    Hal snapped his newspaper. "Ask the Colonel. He's president of the village council. When are you going to give me enough money to hire another man? As it is—"
    "Now Hal, don't you get started on that again. We got you the new government center, didn't we?" The Colonel's voice had a bite to it, one that in his past life would have had men snapping to attention.
    "Fat lot of good it does with no one to man it. Me and my men are on patrol full time. If it wasn't for the county dispatcher handling calls and the mutual aid pact with Merrill, we wouldn't even have time to do that." A familiar edge of frustration lingered in Hal's voice. For years he'd been fighting a losing battle with the village council and his budget constraints. Sarah felt sorry for him. Hal worked hard and only wanted what was best for Hopewell. With an air of defeat, he took a drink of his coffee and buried himself in his paper.
    "What are you doing today, Sarah?" The Colonel asked.
    "I'm going up on Snakehead for a few days, get some hiking in."
    Her announcement was met with silence. Even Hal lowered his paper, giving her an appraising look.
    "You sure? Why don't you head over to Lake Placid?" The Colonel said, aligning the salt and pepper and sugar shakers into a perfect parade formation.
    "Yeah. Or I hear there's a great art exhibit over in Montreal."
    Sarah swiveled on her stool to stare at George. The delivery truck driver wasn't known for his love of fine culture.
    "How would you know?" The Colonel asked.
    George colored but didn't back down. "Because I been there. I took Lucy. It was one of them Impressionist French guys—lots of swirls and color. Kind of pretty." He brightened and smiled at Sarah. "Perfect for a relaxing holiday. Better than tramping up there." He indicated the mountain above them with a jerk of his chin.
    Sarah opened her mouth, reconsidered, and jammed a forkful of pancakes in before she could say something she'd regret. It wasn't that the men were afraid for her physical safety—she'd hunted or worked search and rescue with all of them at one time or another. They were worried about her mental safety. As if after