The Expendable Man Read Online Free PDF

and beheld the cactus country. This was as the desert should be, this was the desert of the picture books, with the land unrolled to the farthest distant horizon hills, with saguaro standing sentinel in their strange chessboard pattern, towering supinely above the fans of ocotillo and the brushy mesquite. Because there had been some winter rain, the desert was in bloom. The saguaro wore creamy crowns on their tall heads, the ocotillo spikes were tipped with vermilion, and the brush bloomed yellow as forsythia.
    There was little traffic, never much on this span, and the road was well built. They rolled through Quartzsite and Hope and within an hour were in sight of the weathered curio café and new resort motel of Salome-Where-She-Danced.
    Iris sat up brightly. “We could get a Coke here.”
    â€œYou can get a Coke at Phoenix.” He kept his face expressionless, set ahead on the road, driving with care at the reduced town speed. He must attract no attention from country constables or curious tourists while the girl was in his car.
    She wailed, “But that’s ages!”
    They were already out of the town and approaching the shining span of the railway bridge.
    â€œTwo hours. One to Wickenberg. Another to the city limits. Maybe another half hour to get across town to the bus station.”
    â€œI can’t wait. I got to have a Coke, I’m dying.”
    He made evident his disinterest. “Drink water.”
    â€œThat stuff! It tastes like you took a bath in it.”
    â€œIf you’re really thirsty, you’ll drink it.”
    â€œYou’re revolting.” She sulked for a mile, then asked, “You got any more of that gum?”
    He put his hand in his pocket, found one stick and handed it to her. She settled down, still sulky but at least near-noiselessly so. She chomped gum. He ignored her. This was his special part of the countryside, the prime of desert and far mountain landscape. The sun was lifting higher and hotter; it was a good thing he’d made an early start.
    The hour passed and they were coming into Wickenberg. It meant reduced speed again, and he didn’t like it. At this crawl, the people in passing cars, the people on the downtown main street, couldn’t help but notice Iris. But at least she didn’t open up on her Coke bit. Once free of the outskirts traffic, he pushed up to the sixty Arizona limit. There’d be traffic between here and Phoenix, but the closer he drew to Phoenix, the less he cared. Phoenix was a city. In a city, people were too busy with their own affairs to wonder about a strangely assorted couple.
    They wound through the canyon and emerged into the hot flat desert area. There must have been some familiarity with this final stretch which put the excitement in Iris’ voice. “I guess I’d better fix my hair.” Not for the aunt. There was a boy friend somewhere in the visit. At her age it was strange that she hadn’t been babbling about him. She untied the scarf, laid it over her knees and began taking the bobby pins out of her hair.
    He was curious. “Did you leave it up all evening?”
    â€œAre you nuts? I took it down in the little girls’ room at the café before I met the kids. Then I put it up again before I went to sleep.”
    â€œYou said you didn’t sleep.”
    She didn’t like being called to account. “Not in a bed. I took a little nap in Rocky’s car, that’s all.” She pulled the dirty comb out of her purse and combed out the lank curls. She peered into the inset mirror. “I wish I’d left it up longer. Darn it. Does it look too awful?”
    He didn’t know how it was supposed to look. He said, “I wouldn’t worry about it. Your aunt won’t care, will she?” He was holding her to her story.
    She tied the scarf under her chin. “No, she won’t care. But I want to look nice when I get there just the same.”
    â€œA