Free Reckoning Road: A Get Jack Reacher Short Story by Scott Blade Page B

The desert sand. The mountain terrain. It had a way of cleaning the mind, of making everything clear.
    I approached the rear of the car. The engine idled, and the exhaust pooled behind it and rose up into the brake lights, creating a dark red smoke.
    The night sky was clear and starry. No moon that I could see. Probably somewhere hiding in the dark among the stars.
    I walked up to the rear of the car, staying in the rearview so I could be seen by the driver. I didn’t want to scare her. I figured it was a woman because of the type of car. No kind of statistics told me that. It was just a guess based on presumptions, and of course, they ended up being wrong.
    I walked up to the rear and stood near the trunk. I bent down and peeked in through the window. The interior was dark, and the backseat was empty. No passengers. The only person inside was the driver. I couldn’t make out any details from this angle.
    I knocked on the trunk because I didn’t want to alarm the driver.
    No response.
    I knocked again.
    No response.
    I walked around the passenger side and over to the driver side window. I bent down and peered in. The dash lights were a low ambient blue that reflected across the driver’s body and face.
    He was knocked out but alive. I saw his chest expand as he inhaled—slow but there.
    A gun lay in the footwell near his feet, jammed underneath the accelerator and the brake. It looked like a Glock 22, a .40 caliber pistol. I didn’t touch it. Didn’t want any confusion from a driver with a possible head wound in case he woke up.
    The passenger door was ajar. The open door light blinked, and an annoying ding sound emitted from the dash.
    Had there been a passenger?
    The engine didn’t seem to be at any risk of catching fire, but I didn’t want to take a chance. So I reached in and turned the key in the ignition. The engine noise died down to an echo of nothing.
    I moved my hand up and grabbed the guy’s suit jacket and shook him. I said, “Hey. You with me?”
    The guy grunted and twisted like he was in a deep sleep, but he didn’t wake up. To be safe, I popped the lock on his door and quickly backed up, giving the door room as it swung open. I reached down and grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out.
    He wasn’t very tall, not compared to me. He was probably five feet nine inches. Nothing special about his height, but his weight was a much different story and belonged in an entirely different part of the library. He must’ve weighed two hundred and fifty pounds—more than me. For a guy that height, he was much heavier than what would be considered healthy. Of course, I tried not to judge others on their lifestyle choices. Live and let live had become my unsung credo. The world out there was a much more interesting place without worrying about what someone else did, and I believed that variety was the spice that made life so interesting. However, in that moment and in that situation where I needed to move this guy in order to keep him safe, I wished that he might’ve taken more stairs and eaten less fast food.
    On top of that, I was tired. I struggled a little getting him out of the car. I had to set him down and drag him from behind his shoulders to get him a decent distance away from the car. Once I had dragged him far enough away, I laid him down on the shoulder of the road with his head in what paramedics called the recovery position. He breathed normally.
    I said, “Hey. Hey.”
    No response.
    I felt his pulse. It was weak—weaker than it should’ve been but strong enough to be alive. Probably, it was weak enough to need a hospital.
    I looked around. Nothing in the distance but darkness. No oncoming headlights. No sign of nearby houses. Nowhere to go for help.
    I shook the guy, soft at first then a little harder—and harder still.
    No response.
    I shook him again a little harder. Nothing.
    I repeated the process and still nothing.
    I looked down at the guy. His face was bloated and had turned a