The Death Strain Read Online Free PDF

walkie-talkie. "West on Norbert Road. Stay on the ready. Over and out."
    I pressed my foot on the accelerator and felt the car leap forward. The black Chevy was hitting ninety and Norbert Road was a succession of curves. Half the time I'd lose them and knew they were there only by the scream of their tires as they took a curve. Then I'd catch sight of them for a moment, until the next curve.
    The Chevy had the giant Jap, old Sumo Sam, plus the two smaller men and Rita Kenmore — over seven hundred pounds of weight to hold it down against my one-ninety. They gained a little bit at each curve because of it. I roared around a sharp one and almost went into a spin, the wheel fighting me furiously. When I pulled out of it and onto the straightaway, they weren't in sight and I frowned. But there was another curve, an easy one just ahead and I cut it beautifully hitting the straight section beyond without slowing down. The black Chevy was still nowhere in sight. I went on a few hundred yards more and hit the brakes, skidding to a halt. Reversing, I made a fast turnabout and headed back the way I'd come, cursing into the wind.
    The opening was on my right, a small entranceway in a long, wooden fence which I'd shot past before without even seeing. It was the only possible spot. They must have gone in there. I turned into the entranceway and found myself going down a steep dirt grade. The car hit the bottom bouncing like a baby buggy and I burst out of the door with the walkie-talkie in my hand. I was inside a huge construction area, with big stacks of culvert pipe and steel beams, huge generators still on their wooden skids, the steel framework of a half-dozen structures and dirt roads and paths in all directions. But there was no black Chevy. They had plenty of places to hide in here.
    I lifted the walkie-talkie to talk with control when the fusillade of shots rang out from three different directions. I felt the wind of the slugs tearing through the air and slamming into the metal of the Cougar. I half-slipped, half-dove for the ground just as one bullet struck the walkie-talkie in my hand. It shattered the instrument, and I closed my eyes and turned away as small slivers of metal flew into my face.
    I felt the tiny trickles of blood running down my right cheek, but that wasn't anything. It was my arm, numb and tingling as though I'd been sleeping on it for hours. The walkie-talkie slipped from my numbed fingers as the second cluster of shots echoed in the recessed area. I rolled under the car and felt a bullet crease my leg. I wanted to yank out Wilhelmina and return their fire but my hand and arm were still numb. I couldn't have held a water pistol. From beneath the car I heard the sound of feet running on the earth and then I saw them, coming toward the car from both sides.
    I rolled on my back and, twisting my arm, pulled at the Luger with my left hand. I'd just gotten it free when one pair of footsteps vaulted into the car and I heard the sound of the engine roar into life. Dropping the Luger, I rolled over on my stomach as the car backed up, the transmission scraping my temple. The driver twisted the wheel and I saw the frame move to the right and the rear tires dig into the earth and race at me.
    I flung myself to the left and the right rear tire scraped my shoulder as it hurtled past, and then the car was no longer on top of me, but I heard the screech of brakes and the clash of gears as the driver shot it into reverse. I'd half-lifted myself from the ground as the Cougar shot at me. I dived again, flattening myself, pressing into the earth, and I cried out in pain as the transmission shaft scraped over my shoulder blades. The driver stopped before he'd gone all the way past me, shot the gears into forward again and spurted ahead. I stayed flattened and once more the car shot out from above me. This time I gathered myself and dove forward, rolling in a somersault. I'd just reached the end of it when I felt the huge hands grab