The Survivors Club Read Online Free PDF Page A

his rifle all the way, then walked out from under the tarp and set his rifle carefully on the ground. He stepped back.
    “Thank you,” Tess said, easing her SIG Sauer P226 back into her holster but keeping her hand close. “Thank you.”
    He nodded. Suddenly he looked shy. “You can’t come in, though. The place is a mess.”
    “That’s fine. We can talk out here.” Tess did not move from behind the door and the engine block. “Anybody else live with you? Anyone inside the trailer?”
    “No. I ride alone.”
    “Did you see the fire?”
    “Of course I saw the fire.” Another one-eighty.
    “Do you remember what time it was, Mr.…?”
    “Name’s Peter. Peter Deuteronomy. Rhymes with lobotomy.” He giggled at his own joke.
    “You believe in the Bible,” Tess said. “That’s good.”
    He smiled. “You a Christian?”
    “Yes.” She was, and she wasn’t, depending on the things she saw on any day. But right now she was a true believer. He hadn’t shot her, for which she was thankful.
    “Some of us around here, we have a Bible study. I could ask them, if you want to join.”
    “Thank you, but I have my own. What night do you guys meet?”
    “Tuesdays at seven o’clock p.m. Over at Matty Thompson’s house.”
    “Oh. That’s when we meet, too.”
    His face fell. “Too bad, but at least you’re washed in the blood of the Lamb.”
    Tess nodded. “So can I ask you about the fire? You saw it? Do you remember what time that was, Peter?”
    He looked down at the ground, shifted his feet on the rocks. “I think it was during Pickers . I saw it over that hill.” He pointed. “Just a light, but I could tell it was flames. And smoke.”
    “So that would be what time?”
    “It was a rerun. They had the American Pickers marathon. So I can’t rightly remember. It was still light, though.”
    “Evening?”
    “No. Dusk.”
    “Dusk. Like around six p.m.?”
    “Uh-huh. You want to hear about the shooting, too?”
    “I would, yes.”
    “Somebody must’ve been shot up bad. Maybe it was the guy you’re looking for. It was an automatic weapon—an AK-47, I’ll bet. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat! Like that!”
    “How long was it between the shooting and the fire?”
    “You think the same guy who was shooting set the fire?”
    “Could be.”
    He looked down at his own rifle. Tess hoped he didn’t have second thoughts. She eased one hand down to her own unsnapped holster.
    “How long, do you think?” Tess asked again.
    He frowned. “I dunno. Maybe a half hour?”
    “Did you call the police?”
    “Nope. People are always shooting around here. There are a lot of bad guys. That’s why I tell intruders I shoot first and ask questions later.”
    Comforting. “So you think the fire was around six-thirty p.m.?”
    “Sounds about right.” He was staring at his weapon again, even took a step toward it. Tess didn’t think he wanted to shoot her. She hoped it was because he just didn’t want to be away from it very long.
    He said, “I heard someone start up a car and drive away after the shooting. Then I saw the fire.”
    “All this happened between five and six-thirty at night?”
    “Pretty sure. Can I get my rifle now?”
    “Tell you what. I’m going to get into my car and drive away. Let me get back in the car, okay? And when I drive around that hill, you go pick up your rifle.”
    “Sounds fair.” But she could see his hand itching. He was looking at the rifle the way a dog looks at a ball he can’t quite get to.

    Tess went to three other squatter camps in the Atascosa Mountains. No one answered at two of them, and an older gentleman in a newer travel trailer invited her in for iced tea and a grilled cheese sandwich. He remembered seeing a light in the sky, but it was too far away for him to hear anything. He, too, thought the time was around sunset.
    She had a time frame.
    By the time Tess got back to Credo, the place was deserted.
    The ghost town looked the same as it did yesterday: adobe