Dark Witness Read Online Free PDF

and should never have been used. Even Robert knew that and, as people used to point out, he didn't know much of anything.
    Cupping his hands over his nose, Robert breathed in and out to warm up his face as he poked around and climbed until he finally got to the cab. He stood on a rock that had slid down after the truck went over the side of the road. He looked into the empty cab. He drew his head out. He called:
    "Hello! It's me, Robert. Duncan and God sent me."
    When no one answered, he got down on his stomach and inched up the rock so that he could look over the side. When his head was hanging down between the rock and one of the giant wheels, he laid eyes on the dead person.
    "There you are."
    Robert took a huge, huge breath of cold air because this was not a pretty sight and he was afraid he might throw up. He hated to do that. He didn't hurl, though, because he was trying to figure out how the man had managed to fall underneath the cab and behind it all at the same time. Not that it mattered. He was deader than dead. Robert could only see the man's legs, so he slid off the rock, hunkered down to look into the little tee-pee space the crumpled metal had made, and looked at the rest of him. The man had done a number on himself. One arm was gone and the look on his face – once Robert got past all the blood and the hole where his cheek should be – was one of astonishment.
    Robert wondered who he was, if he left anyone behind, and if he had any idea that he was going to die that day. Receiving no answers or directives from God, and certainly none from the dead man, Robert bit down on the fingers of his glove. He pulled it off, set it aside, and put that hand right on the man's stump. Even though it felt weird, he let it rest there while he thought about God, and the end of life, and all that. He did this because it was pretty much a sure bet nobody was going to be bringing this guy back home anytime soon. Robert for sure wasn't going to be letting the authorities know about this mess. He'd already been down that road and a lot of no good had come of it. The only authority in heaven and on earth was God like Duncan said. Well, and Duncan was an authority, too.
    Tired of doing what he was doing, Robert climbed back up on the rock, side-stepped his way up to that toppled over cab, leaned in, and teeter-tottered on his substantial stomach to see what he might salvage. The inside of the cab stank of cigarettes and liquor and that answered the question of why the window was open. Robert wouldn't want to sit in that stink and neither did the driver.
    Robert grunted, grabbed the keys hanging in the ignition, slid out again, dropped to rock's surface and got himself back on the ground. He rubbed his big tummy and wiped his perpetually running nose. He checked out the keys. There were three.
    One had been in the ignition. One was probably for a house, and the other one had to be the key to a lock on the back of the container. Now he knew why God and Duncan had sent him here. Whatever was in this truck was something that Duncan needed. Robert hurried to the back and tried the key on the container lock. Sure enough, it swung open revealing a treasure trove of boxes.
    Pushing one door open as wide as he could, Robert put his hands on the container and wobbled back and forth to make sure the thing was stable. It was at an awkward angle, but there was no doubt it was tight up against the trees. Twice he tried to lift his great bulk into the back. When he finally made it, his head was spinning from the effort and from seeing that there were about a zillion boxes of something inside.
    When his eyes acclimated to the dark and his breathing was even, Robert opened his penknife, slit the tape on the box nearest him, and ripped the flaps open. There was bubble wrap on top and under that was a grid of corrugated cardboard. Nestled inside that were small bottles that had labels with lots of writing that Robert couldn't read. He was disappointed