The Rush Read Online Free PDF Page B

framed photos of family covered every inch of
every wall and shelf. Plaster-of-Paris red roosters, old milk bottles filled
with fake flowers, and salt and pepper shakers of all kinds dotted the meager
counter space.
    The farmer let his hand fall away from the threadbare
curtain covering the window above the sink. From where he stood, he had a
perfect view of the two black vultures with their vile eviction papers.
    “They can’t…We’re the last family-owned farm in the county.”
    “I know it, John Henry. You know it. But the bank just don’t
care about it.” His wife glanced up from her knitting, the soft click, click of
her needles never slowing for a moment. “Those bastards wouldn’t know kindness
if it slapped them across their ugly faces.” She squinted at the framed
painting of Jesus on the wall and waved a halfhearted apology at him.
    “Maybe I should get out my shotgun.”
    “Maybe you should.”
    John Henry stared out at the men, undecided. Before he could
take action, the suits were done and headed down the long, dirt driveway. That
was it. After centuries of working this land, the family name would leave the
county for good.
    A bright spot of light seared across his vision, landing
less than twenty yards from the farmhouse, right in front of the chicken coop.
The birds clamored, their raucous clucking filling up the late evening air.
    “Doggone-it! Something done scared the chickens, Martha.” He
shook his head to clear out the bright stripe across his vision with no
success. “I’m gonna head out and see what’s got them so stirred up.”
    “Mmm hmm,” she agreed. Martha’s knitting continued,
implacable.
    John Henry grabbed his flashlight and ran, or rather
trotted, out to the henhouse. His knees weren’t what they once had been. About
fifteen feet in front and to the east side of the decrepit structure, a small
pit glowed with a ruddy light.
    “What the…? Martha! Come see this!”
    Martha strolled across the yard, needles still tracing
circles in the low light. Her ball of yarn was stuffed in her pocket. He felt
her move beside him.
    “It’s just a rock,” Martha said, purling a row.
    John Henry smiled, though, flashing the light across the
fragment’s surface. A riot of colors lit up the night, illuminating everything
around it. The sharp intake of breath from his wife confirmed that she
concluded what he had.
    A Star Diamond had fallen onto their land.
    “I don’t think we’re gonna have to move,” John Henry
whispered.
    For the first time that night, Martha’s needles stopped
moving.
    * * *
    Jarod stalked back and forth in front of the huge array of
sophisticated computers comprising the bridge of the Rogues’ Gamble. Enormous
amounts of data flowed across holographic screens. Topographic maps cycled
endlessly, revealing the shape of the ocean floor beneath. A huge scar cut
across the detailed relief, an ending of the terrain just a quarter league from
their current location.
    The central screens, the ones hooked to the unmanned probe
they sent down to the galleon, remained stubbornly static. Turns out that even
the most expensive holographic screens needed data to project.
    Jarod growled his frustration. “Come on. Come on! You’re
killing me.”
    “You are positive that there weren’t any sharks down there?”
Cleo asked, as if she already knew the answer.
    Jarod groaned. “None. Nada.” He faced down Cleo’s infamous
I-can-see-into-your-head glare without flinching. Much. Man, she could’ve given
his mom a run for her money. “So can we come on now?”
    Buton lifted his head from the keyboard. “Patience, my dear
man.”
    The scholar’s steady tone made Jarod want to throttle him a
little bit. “We launched the vid-cam over an hour ago.”
    Rob chuckled with the dismissive mirth that only a teenager
could manage. “Lighten up, dude. We’ve been working this site for seventeen
months.”
    “Seventeen months and an hour,” Jarod countered.
    Frustrated with