Free Walking After Midnight by Karen Robards Page B

air, you know. Something made it back off – maybe it saw the semi coming, or maybe there was something else. But you can bet your bippy that it’s looking for us now. No telling how many cars are swarming out of Murfreesboro, and maybe from Nashville too, and God knows where else, after us. We don’t have much time before they’re all over this area like ants at a picnic. And you want to turn on the lights?“ He shook his head. „Not smart.“
    „What did you do?“ Summer asked in a hushed voice.
    Frankenstein snorted. „Let’s just say I got the wrong people totally pissed off, okay?“
    „Who?“
    „Look, does it make any difference? All you need to know is that whoever is after me is after you too, and they aren’t real nice folks.“
    Oh, God. She’d already had ample evidence of that. „As soon as I get home, I’m going to fire some people,“ Summer muttered.
    „What?“
    „Never mind.“
    „Damn it, Rosencrans, I think you just passed the turn-off! Do you have to talk every blasted second?“
    A distant sound could have been helicopter blades. They both strained to identify it over the rushing wind. Any reply Summer might have made vanished from her consciousness in that instant. Remembering the recent fusillade of bullets with which the helicopter had savaged the van sent a tingle of fear zooming along Summer’s spine. With a single scared glance at the man beside her, Summer stood on the brakes, turned the van in a wide, bumpy circle that flattened grass on the far side of the pavement, and headed back the other way. Only slower. Where was that road?
    „There! See?“ He pointed.
    Summer saw what looked like tire tracks cutting through knee-high grass to a wire fence, where they ended at a wide black ditch. In the dark it was difficult to be certain, but if this was his escape route, it sure was a short one.
    „Are you sure?“ Skepticism underlay the question.
    „Pull off, will ya?“
    From the sound of it, the helicopter, if helicopter indeed it was, was getting closer. With an inward prayer, Summer turned off the road onto the tire tracks. The van lurched over ruts and bumps.
    Of necessity, she stopped the van about fifteen feet in, at the edge of the ditch, which now appeared more like a yawning gulley.
    „What are you stopping for?“
    „Possibly it’s escaped your notice, but there’s a ditch in front of us. Now what?“
    „It’s a cow-crossing, Rosencrans.“
    „Would you stop calling me that? My name is Summer McAfee!“
    Summer peered through the open windshield as she spoke. Now that she looked closer, she saw that the moonlight gleamed dully off black, evenly spaced iron bars that formed a ground level bridge over the chasm. As a born and bred country girl, she should have guessed. With fencing on either side, without the cattle guard there would have been a gate. Feeling foolish, she drove over it without a word.
    Once across, the road surface did not improve. The van dipped and shuddered, following the scarcely visible trail to the far edge of the field, which was marked by more fencing that separated the pasture from what appeared to be dense woods.
    The helicopter, if indeed it had been a helicopter, was very far in the distance now. Summer could barely hear it.
    „Where are we going?“
    „To a place I know.“
    „What kind of place?“
    „Just drive, would you? Jesus. Do you yammer like this all the time?“
    „Screw you, Frankenstein.“
    „Maybe later. When we have more time.“
    „In your wildest dreams.“
    „Rosencrans, believe me, my wildest dreams don’t include you. More like naked blond triplets with forty-inch chests.“
    „I believe it.“
    „You should. It’s true. Look out! That’s a cow!“
    Summer hit the brakes. There was, indeed, a cow, lying right smack in the middle of the path, placidly chewing its cud. A Black Angus, to be precise, which was a valuable beef animal the color of night. Only its moist eyes reflecting the moonlight revealed