Green Ice: A Deadly High Read Online Free PDF Page A

safari along this coastline.”
    Mancini turned up the volume on the stereo, pumping out the Surf Rock at a high rate of decibels. ‘ The Chantays ’ classic surf track, ‘ Pipeline ’ seemed to tumble out of the speakers. No other vehicles were on the highway and Trey hit the gas pedal hard. The Thunderbird sped up and began to eat away at the miles between them and Ensenada.
    Trey slowed the car when he spotted a battered, white pick-up truck stopped at an odd angle, with its rear end still on the highway and the cab facing the shoulder.
    “What the hell is going on here?” he muttered.
    Mancini sensed danger. Maybe it was some sort of ruse to make them stop the car so a few pistol wielding bad guys could pop out from behind the truck and rob them at gun point.
    “Don’t stop the car,” he hissed. Mancini instinctively reached into his jacket for his handgun before he realized he wasn’t carrying a firearm. “Shit, I don’t like this.”
    “It’s probably just somebody broke down, man,” Trey sighed. “ Stop sacking it, will you?”
    Trey slowed the T-Bird to a crawl but steered around the immobile truck. They looked through the cab windows but couldn’t see anybody inside. The passenger door hung open and the interior light glowed dimly across the truck’s dash. Mancini turned the volume down on the stereo as the Thunderbird rolled parallel to the truck’s hood. A long haired man, dressed in a black vest and denim pants squatted over the prone body of a woman, lying on the ground in front of the truck. Another body of an elderly man lay face down in the brown dirt, a few feet from the crouching man. Both the motionless bodies bore horrific injuries to their throats, as though the flesh had been ripped or torn away. Blood pooled around the grounded figures and heavily stained their shredded clothing.
    “What the fuck is going on here?” Trey gasped.
    “No sign of an accident,” Mancini surmised, studying the lifeless figures , then the truck’s front.
    “Hey, buddy,” Trey called to the guy hunkered over the injured woman. “What’s up? Need an ambulance?”
    The guy’s head snapped upwards. He glared straight at Trey and Mancini. Blood surrounded his mouth and he bared his teeth in a snarl like a rabid dog. His hands and lower arms were smeared with blood and clumps of flesh were entangled in his long hair, hanging either side of his lower jaw.
    “Jesus! Do you see that dude’s eyes, man?” Trey croaked. “What’s wrong with his fucking eyes?” His breathing rapidly quickened as he stared into the jet black eyeballs surrounding bright orange pupils.
    Mancini felt his skin go cold, despite the warm climate. He too was repulsively mesmerized by the guy’s piercing glare. The crouching man’s eyes flicked between Mancini and Trey as though he was anticipating his next move.
    “You think he killed those people?” Trey stammered.
    The guy slowly rose from the woman’s corpse beneath him. He padded around the truck , gathering pace with every step towards the Thunderbird. He growled in a low tone that became a high pitched shriek by the time he reached the blacktop. The skin around his eyes and upper forehead looked parched and cracked, almost as though his face was completely dehydrated. 
    “Shit, go, Trey, go,” Mancini yelled.
    “Got that,” Trey yelped and dumped his foot on the gas pedal.
    The guy roared and reached out with gnarled, blood stained fingers at Mancini in the passenger seat. The T-Bird lurched forward and the guy’s broken fingernails scraped across the car’s paintwork along the door. Mancini recoiled away from the marauding guy beside the door then turned to watch him chase their vehicle at an unrelenting pace. The guy growled and shrieked as he sprinted down the blacktop, futilely chasing the Thunderbird. Trey glanced in his rear view mirror, watching the crazy guy fade into the distance.
    “Do you think we should call 911?” he asked.
    Mancini composed