The Sheriff. Angi Morgan

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ lights have disappeared. I don’t know what’s weaving toward me, but I think I’m going to get back in the car and roll up the windows.”

      Proud of herself for continuing the recording, she felt with one hand until finding the window handle. It was the first time she was grateful she’d paid extra for electric windows. But she wasn’t in her car, she was in Sharon’s old sedan. Backseat ready, she pushed the lock and shut it, then moved to the front door.

      During the transfer, she lost where the movement was, spotting it again when she found the handle. Closer. More in focus. A man. Staggering.

      She dropped the camera on the seat, using both hands to tug at the window stuck on the old car. “Not now. Uh. Give me a break.”

      “Help.”

      “Help? Not likely.” She ran to the driver’s side. If she couldn’t get locked inside her car, she didn’t have to stay there.

      Marfa was nine miles away. This was a police matter.

      “Please. Help. Night of aliens.”

      She heard him loud and clear as he tripped and stumbled into her. Shirtless, his skin horribly dirty. His lips parched and cracked. With his short-cropped military cut, she could see the gaping wound on the side of his head. There were cuts and bruises all over his arms. Some fresh, some old.

      Where was the nearest hospital? Alpine. She couldn’t leave him.

      He fell into her arms, knocking her into the car frame. She kept him moving, guiding his fall onto the backseat. She pushed at his legs, tried folding them so the door would close.

      “Come on, man. Help me...out...here.” He was unresponsive and most likely unconscious. She ran to the other door, forgetting it was locked, wasting precious time reaching through the window. She yanked and pulled until he budged enough to bend his knees on top of his body and shut both doors. It had to be uncomfortable, but the man wasn’t complaining.

      “Hospital!”

      She left everything on the viewing platform, including her cell phone, only having a moment of disappointment about not documenting evidence. This guy was clearly not from a UFO. It looked as if he’d been in the desert for days.

      There was no question the man’s life was much more important than any research. She pointed the car east toward Alpine. Marfa was closer and had a doctor but no hospital. The dashboard lights showed smudges of the man’s blood on her hands and forearms. She felt the stickiness of a heavy damp saturation just above her hip.

      “Are you bleeding to death?” she screamed at the unconscious stranger and threw on the brakes. “Were you attacked by coyotes or something?”

      Twisting to look at him closer, she searched the middle compartment for anything, even napkins. There was nothing here to stem the loss of blood. She pulled her long-sleeve shirt over her head and shifted to reach his body, searching with her hands until she found a wound. Her fingers found a distinct puncture. She’d never seen one in real life, but there was no mistaking the bullet hole.

      Dear Lord. “What happened to you?”

      She pressed the shirt into his side, moving his arm into a position to hold it in place. He moaned.

      “Thank God you’re alive, but who knows how long that will last.”

      The lights were closer, then gone again.

      Using all the training her father had taught her about control, she forced her thoughts to slow and hold herself together. She readjusted in the seat and buckled the seat belt in place before putting the car in Drive.

      One at a time, she swiped her hands across her jeans to remove the man’s damp blood before pulling out of the parking lot. She dipped her head to her shoulder, trying to push a loose piece of hair, stuck across her cheek, off her sweaty face.

      What in the world was she getting involved in? A secret chopper? Maybe a new stealth plane? “Are you military or something? I sure hope you’re not a fugitive or a drug runner. But whoever you are, you’re dying and I have to get you to a hospital.”

      Nothing was around for miles. No homes, no businesses, no help. Help? She should call for help. Where was her stupid phone?

      Oh, no. It was in the chair where she’d dumped Sharon’s bag. She needed to call, tell someone she had an injured man and get directions to the hospital in Alpine. She turned in the small lot, prepared to jump from the car and dial on the way back. A one-or two-minute delay was better than getting lost. Maybe they could send an ambulance to meet her.

      Bright spotlights blinded her in all her mirrors. She couldn’t see and tilted the rearview up. Forget the phone. She punched the gas and could smell the smoking rubber of the slightly balding tires.

      “It’s following us!” Whatever it was, it was practically on top of the trunk.

      The road was straight so she couldn’t stop or it would crash into her. There was no way to outrun it in an old four-cylinder economy.

      “Now what?”

      Colored lights flashed. The inside of the car looked like a blinking neon sign. She could barely see the two-lane highway, and then whatever followed rammed the little car. Andrea’s neck jerked back. Her body smashed against the seat belt. Her wrists slammed into the steering wheel. Her father would be proud she didn’t scream—as much as she wanted to let out a string of obscenities at whoever was flying that thing.

      Another hit. The thing had to be a chopper. The man in her backseat had to be in serious trouble and now so was she.

      The car skidded sideways onto the shoulder and beyond. She maintained her grip, steering through the grass on the side of the highway. The chopper blocked her path back to the road. They bounced a few seconds before she aimed at the wire between fence posts and gunned the little engine again.

      She had no idea what was out here. She could be headed straight to a small boulder or a ravine. The unknown was definitely frightening, but not as much as the chopper on her tail.

      As suddenly as the thing appeared behind her, it was gone. No lights. No sounds. She wanted to slow down, but it wasn’t safe. Too late she wished she had when a slab of broken foundation forced the car sideways.

      It rolled.

      She screamed.

       Chapter Two

      Driving this empty length of pavement could put him to sleep if he wasn’t careful. Pete Morrison stretched his neck from side to side, turned the squad car’s radio up a bit louder and rolled down the window for fresh air. A quick trip out to the Lights Viewing Area and back to the office for some shut-eye.

      Probably just a plane and a waste of taxpayer gas.

      “I saw some strange stuff out there,” a trucker had told Dispatch. “I don’t believe in UFOs or nothing like that, but if it is, I want the credit for seeing it first. Okay?”

      “Sure thing” had been the standard reply to every driver who thought he’d seen a UFO. And each report had to be checked out. It was Marfa, after СКАЧАТЬ