Ransom Read Online Free PDF Page A

function named Gabriel. The need to protect Gabriel, my younger brother, kicked in without fail every time, right before things were about to go very wrong.  
    The lead car of the caravan that we were traveling in, pulled to the side of the paved road. We were in the backwoods, where fields of golden wheat stretched across the landscape. I couldn’t help but feel half good when I spotted civilization in the form of a farm, its red silo rising high above the rest of the place. I shook my head in disgust. I hated these kind of bush country venues where all that surrounded you was wilderness. What I wouldn’t have given to spend the night in a town where the bars were plentiful, the beer was cold, and the women were prime picking, rather than roughing it.
    Sanford, the road manager jumped out of the polished black half-ton pick up truck and strode toward me. Tall and gangly with a smile that took up half of his face, Sanford had always been my favorite crew member. He was someone who could expertly organize everything for Gabriel’s venue without even breaking a sweat. Though now, with the sun beating down on his shaved head, I saw an uncharacteristic sheen of moisture on his brow. He stopped next to the open window of the truck that I was driving.
    “Your Pa wants you to keep an eye on Gabriel while we organize the build,” he said with a kindly smile. I shook my head then released a mirthless chuckle at the absurdity of the comment. Everyone knew that for all intensive purposes I was Gabriel’s bodyguard, caregiver, cook and whatever other job was needed. Pa had clued in long ago that there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect Gabriel, including taking a bullet in the chest if it came to that. In Pa’s estimation you couldn’t buy that kind of dedication. So it was plain stupid to force Sanford to relay the bullshit that had Pa written all over it. But that was Pa, ever the controlling boss, who for the most part scared the shit out of everyone who worked for him.  
    I tipped my head forward and sighed. Without the breeze of the moving truck it was hotter than a tin roof in the deep south. I felt more sweat trail down my temples and the back of my neck. Despite the fact that the truck had the luxury of air-conditioning, Pa insisted that no one use it so we could save on gas. It made for some hellish trips, but I had learned the hard way that crossing Pa on that little detail wasn’t worth the grief, or in my case the whooping I would get.  
    “Sure thing,” I said.  
    I brought my gaze to Sanford. His denim colored eyes twinkled with amusement. It was clear from his expression that he expected one of my customary smart ass cracks. None came. After ten hours of driving, all my sarcasm had left the building. Sanford shrugged and quirked an eyebrow before he hitched up his faded jeans. Even with his leather belt cinched in at the waist on the last hole, his frame seemed too thin for conventional clothes. It never ceased to surprise me that he and I were both 6’1,   yet I was a full sixty pounds heavier than him.
    “Well I best get to it,” Sanford said.  
    “What’s the hold up here?”
    Though I had heard his voice long before I had even been born, it never ceased to make my spine go stiff, my jaw clench and my stomach twist into tight knots. I wasn’t sure if that was a standard reaction for a father and son, but not every father was Billy Sanders.
    Pa was a couple of inches shorter than me, but still had at least thirty pounds on me. He was all rangy muscle, his arms and neck thickly corded beneath his thin white cotton shirt that he always paired with black wool dress pants, and polished black shoes that you could see your face in. His thick, once copper-colored hair, had gone completely white long ago when he had been in his late twenties. Pa always kept his hair short, slicked away from his face. But the most distinctive, and in my opinion chilling feature about him, were his eyes that were a milky