Ride the Nightmare Read Online Free PDF Page B

if anything went wrong,” he said.
    He was silent for such a long time that Helen thought his story was finished. “Something went wrong, all right,” he finally said. “The old man who owned the store had an alarm system. It didn’t make any noise in the store itself though, only outside. I heard it. I was going to warn the others when I heard a police car coming.”
    His foot pressed down harder on the accelerator and the speedometer needle quivered past sixty.
    “I lost my nerve,” he said bitterly. “I didn’t warn them. I just drove away as fast as I could, ditched the car when it ran out of gas. I hitchhiked out of the state. Later on, I read that they’d been caught and that the old man had been killed.”
    He sank back against the seat as if, suddenly, exhausted.
    “That’s it,” he said. “I came to California. I changed my name. I managed to keep it all a secret. I thought I’d beaten it. Now…”
    He gestured defeatedly with his right hand.
    Neither one of them had noticed the red light blinking behind them. The first thing they were aware of was a harsh, metallic voice ringing out above the wind and engine noises.
    “Blue Ford, pull over!”

CHAPTER FIVE
    A hundred yards back, the turning roof light of another car was just disappearing behind a curve.
    “Put Connie in the back seat!” Chris told her.
    “What is it?”
    “A police car! Hurry!”
    Breath choked in Helen’s throat. She tried to lift Connie and felt a painful drawing in her back and shoulder muscles.
    “She’s too heavy!” she said.
    “Grab the wheel then!”
    Her left hand clutched at the wheel. Raising himself quickly, Chris grabbed Connie under the shoulders and legs and lifted her. For a second, Connie’s leg was in front of her face and Helen couldn’t see the highway. The Ford veered toward the opposite lane and she twisted the wheel sharply. Connie whimpered as she was dumped onto the plastic covering of the back seat. With desperate haste, Chris tucked the blanket around her. Before the police car had reappeared, he was steering the car again.
    “Why did you do that?” Helen asked.
    “They’ll probably look in back,” he said. “If they see Connie they may not look at the floor.” He pulled the car to the side of the road and braked.
    “But is he—?”
    “He’s covered,” said Chris.
    Helen sat there woodenly, staring straight ahead, as the black and white police car angled to a halt in front of them. The red light on top of the car revolved slowly, glaring into their eyes. Two policemen got out and Helen listened to their shoes crunching over the roadside gravel. They were carrying something in their hands. Helen shuddered, realizing that they had flashlights.
    “I’ll talk to them,” said Chris.
    The policemen separated now, one to each side of the car. The one on Chris’s side directed the flashlight beam into his face.
    “Don’t you read traffic signs?” the policeman asked.
    “Yes. I—”
    “You were doing seventy in a thirty five mile zone, did you know that?” the policeman interrupted.
    “I’m sorry,” Chris said, “I—I wasn’t looking. We were—”
    “License, please,” said the policeman.
    Chris reached forward nervously and switched off the engine. He pulled out the key ring with the plastic-faced license holder attached to it and handed it out. The policeman took it and pointed his flashlight at it.
    “You’re Christopher Martin?” he asked.
    Helen felt something like an electric shock in her body as the other policeman pointed his flashlight beam at the back seat.
    “Who’s that?” he asked.
    She swallowed quickly. “My daughter,” she said. She was startled at the aloofness of her voice.
    “You still live at twelve-o-four Twelfth Street?” the other policeman was asking Chris.
    “Yes.”
    The policeman lowered the license and looked at Chris again.
    “Why were you going so fast, Martin?” he asked. His voice was less stiff now.
    “Well,” Chris said,