The Drought Read Online Free PDF Page A

fired.
    At this point, water was probably coming across the floorboards. He would have scrambled to get the hell out of the car because he wouldn’t know how deep the water was and if the whole thing was going to go under. “And in his hurry he would have left his belongings, thinking he could come back later.”
    Nathan glanced into the backseat. A black duffel bag covered with a fuzzy layer of mildew sat on the seat. A self-satisfied smile stole across his lips. “When you’re good you’re good.” He reached over the seat and grabbed the straps. “You’re not much of a witness but maybe you’ve got a few clues for me.”
    The bag barely shifted. He holstered his gun, leaned over the seat and pulled at the bag again this time with both hands. When the bag came up, a quick moving shadow that looked like an oil spill slithered across the rear seat. He jerked back, almost dropped the bag and swore beneath his breath. “Jesus Christ, I don’t need this shit.”
    Hoisting the bag over the seat, he stepped down into the marsh. Air bubbled to the surface releasing a foul odor. Struggling with the added weight of the bag he slid his feet along the slippery bottom until he was close enough to toss the bag onto the bank.
    The hovering mist reminded him he had not set any flares. Stan wouldn’t know where to stop. Walking past the bag he withdrew a key from his pocket, looked at it and then at the wrecked squad car with doubt. With a shrug he slid the key into the lock. To his surprise, the trunk popped open.
    Inside, an assortment of police issue paraphernalia were placed neatly in boxes marked with their contents. He opened a box marked ‘Roadside’, pulled out several flares, and climbed the embankment. The flares hissed to life casting a ghostly glow against the thinning mist. From the edge of the embankment the outline of the squad car was now visible. As he stood there he got the sense he was being watched. He thought of the dark figure coming out of nowhere, a grinning face inches from his window.
    Once again the idea Nute had been laying in wait for him went through his mind. Why? What sense did it make? He peered into the mist certain someone was still lurking in the marsh. “Oh to hell with it.” He unclipped his holster for the second time that morning, which was two more times than he had in the past six months, and started back down the embankment.
    He was halfway down, when he heard the hum of tires on the road. From where he stood, he could see the duffle bag sitting near the edge of the water, forgotten in his haste to light the flares. A slight movement from the other side of the wrecked cars caught his attention. He pulled his gun from the holster and pointed it toward the illusive figure. Feeling slightly ridiculous, he yelled, “Freeze!”
    Someone was definitely there, but instead of freezing the shadow moved deeper into the marsh. He caught site of a large black shoulder but then the figure was gone. A sarcastic voice yelled from the top of the embankment, “Please don’t shoot me, I surrender.” Daniel appeared at the edge of the embankment with his hands held in the air.
    Still holding his gun, Nathan turned it on Daniel.
    “Well, if the gun doesn’t scare them off, your appearance should do the trick.”
    Nathan lowered the gun and looked down. A coffee stain marked him from his shirt down to his crotch, giving the appearance he had pissed himself. His shoes were oozing with mud and his uniform pants were wet almost to the knees. “No one likes a smart ass, Daniel.”
    Daniel’s taunt was immediate and expected. “Better a smart ass than a dumb ass.”
    Taking a few steps up the slope, Nathan asked, “Where’s Stan?”
    Daniel hooked a thumb behind him in the general direction of town. “He’s right behind me. Had to get him out of bed, that’s what took so long. Course, I don’t blame him for sleeping in, you should have seen the red-head who answered the door.”
    The light