MIDNIGHT QUEST: A Short 'Men of Midnight' Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

sweaty and his hands were slippery on the wheel. A huge metal band around his chest made it hard to breathe. He wasn’t in any condition to drive.
    Jacko swerved fast to the curb and killed the engine, pressing back in his seat. He lifted his hands from the steering wheel and held them in front of his face, watching them tremble, his whole body coated in the cold sweat of stress. He’d call it the sweat of panic, except Jacko didn’t do panic.
    Still, it felt a lot like panic. Or what he knew of panic. He’d never felt it himself, but some guys panicked in battle or in the aftermath. He’d seen them. Sweating, trembling, eyes wide. Tunnel-visioning, incapable of responding to the environment, lost.
    Like he was, right now.
    His heart was hammering in his chest, thumping against his rib cage, beating harder and faster than ever before in his life. His heart rate had been measured at sixty beats per minute after an hour’s training cycle with live fire.
    And now? He put a finger to his pulse and counted.
    Fuck. One-twenty. His heart was beating faster than after a ten-mile run. Faster than his heart had ever been measured. Like all SEALs, he’d been measured and tested and weighed and analyzed to death. Nothing in his life could make his heart race like this. Maybe a massive hemorrhage, his heart frantically pumping to make up for the blood loss. Other than that? Nothing.
    Except here he was, stopped by the side of the road, heart flailing around in his chest, covered in sweat. Heart pounding.
    Jacko smacked the steering wheel hard. Good thing it was sturdy because he put all his frustration behind the blow, and he was strong. He thumped it again. He felt like ripping it away from the steering column. He felt like taking out his Glock and fucking shooting it. Or shooting something. Or kicking something.
    His skin was too tight and too hot. He buzzed down his windows and let in the winter air but it was still too hot. He climbed out of the vehicle and stood stock still, eyes unfocused in the cold rain until he realized he was on a major route and cars had been whizzing by for God only knew how long. A foghorn-like blast and a truck whooshed by, spraying him with icy water. He caught a glimpse of an angry face and uplifted fist. The guy was pissed and he was right.
    Jacko checked his watch.
    Shit. He’d been standing by the side of the road for half an hour. Like in a freaking trance.
    What the fuck was wrong with him?
    Lauren was pregnant, that’s what was wrong. He should have told her, dammit. Told her they could never have kids. Make that a condition of them being together, being a couple.
    Hey, Lauren, wanna marry me? Only thing is, we can’t have kids. If you’re not down with that, forget it.
    Who the fuck was he kidding?
    He’d walk barefoot across broken glass to be with Lauren.
    Just no kids.
    But…here she was, expecting.
    Fuck.
    How could she have a kid with him when he had no freaking clue who he came from? The only thing he knew was that his heritage wasn’t good, any of it.
    Mom a junkie and dad some passing drunk.
    Genes counted for something, didn’t they?
    Jacko looked up at the gray, low sky. Cold rain fell on his upturned face, but it didn’t cool him. He felt hot, like he was bursting into flame.
    Lauren bleeding to death flashed across his vision again and bile rose up his gullet. He leaned forward and vomited last night’s dinner. His stomach simply emptied itself out, the contents splashing onto the shoulder of the road in great heaving spasms. He had no control, none.
    His body was rejecting what was in his stomach and rejecting the thought of Lauren pregnant with his child.
    He dry heaved for a while even after there was nothing left in his stomach except the lining. Finally he put his hand on the fender to hold himself up and stared at the ground. Nothing to see, really, except gravel, puddles and vomit. He couldn’t move, though. His legs wouldn’t carry him.
    Finally, finally, he