[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
For an answer, Lewis Flores reached out. Joanna thought he was going for his
other gun, which lay beside him on the hood. Instead, he picked up something
else. By then Joanna s eyes were adjusting to the lack of light and she was
able to make out that he had picked up a bottle a tequila bottle per-haps and
was taking a swig.
Lewis. Joanna tried to make her voice sound authorita-tive but calm. More
deputies are on their way. They ll be here in a few minutes. You ll be
surrounded. Give up before someone gets hurt.
I already am hurt, he said.
Joanna breathed deeply. She had him talking. That was a good sign. Where are
Mark Childers and Karen Brainard, Lewis? What have you done with them?
There was a sudden pounding. It seemed to be coming from one of the Porta
Potties. I m in here, Karen Brainard yelled. I m locked in the toilet. He s
been shooting at me. He s crazy. Get me out of here.
Relief spilled over Joanna. At least one of the two was still alive, still
safe. Where s Mark Childers? she asked. Why don t you ask him? Lewis
responded.
But Joanna didn t want to talk to Mark Childers. She didn t want to take her
focus off Lewis Flores. He was the one with the guns. Why are you hurt,
Lewis? What s happened?
They lied to me, Lewis answered. They told me that it wouldn t matter if
the process got hurried up a little. They said they d make it worth my while,
and no one would care. But people do care, and as soon as there was trouble,
they turned it all on me. Tried to make out that it was all my fault all my
responsibility.
That s not true, Karen responded from her prison. We didn t do any such
thing, did we? Tell her, Mark. Tell Sheriff Brady that Lewis is lying.
But if Mark Childers had anything to add to Karen Brain-ard s denial, he
wasn t saying. In the distant background, Jo-anna heard the sound of at least
one siren. Reinforcements were on their way. The cavalry was about to ride to
the rescue.
Please, Lewis, she begged. Think about Carmen. Put down your weapons. Move
away from the car with your hands in the air.
I am thinking about Carmen, Lewis Flores replied. I was thinking about her
and all those steps and her having to climb them every day. Of her having to
carry groceries home just the way her mother did. I wanted a better place for
her, something really nice. And Mark Childers was going to help me get it. But
it s not worth it. I finally figured that out. I ve lost everything now my
job, my family, my self-respect. They ve taken it all away.
Page 90
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
You have to let us out of here, Karen Brainard pleaded.
He locked us in here, and he s been using us for target prac-tice. Please let
us out.
Half a mile away across the desert, a patrol car rumbled across the cattle
guard and then roared up the roadway.
Do you hear that, Lewis? Joanna asked. The other depu-ties are coming right
now. Please, put down your weapon so no one gets hurt.
His hand shot out again. Joanna thought he was reaching for the bottle again,
which was out of her sight line on the other side of the hood. But what Lewis
Flores raised to his lips that time wasn t tequila. Joanna saw the flare of
light as the gun was fired, heard the explosion, and saw him flop back-ward
against the windshield.
No! she heard herself screaming as she ran toward the Taurus. N0000000!
But Lewis Flores was dead long before she reached him.
Oh, God. What s he doing now? Karen screeched. Make him stop. He s going to
kill us. The man is crazy. He s going to kill us all.
Joanna stopped at the Taurus long enough to grab Lewis Flores limp wrist.
Briefly her fingers searched for a nonexistent pulse. One look at the bloody
carnage that had once been the back of Lewis Flores head told her there was
nothing to do. Dropping his lifeless arm, Joanna raced to the line of Porta
Potties just as a patrol car skidded to a stop behind her Blazer.
Unholstering his side arm, Deputy Dave Hollicker jumped out of the vehicle.
What s the status, Sheriff Brady?
By then Joanna was at the door to the Porta Potty. It wasn t just closed. It
had been nailed shut. The top of the door was riddled with bullet holes. From
inside, she heard the sound of hysterical weeping.
Bring a crowbar, Dave, she ordered. And make it quick. There s one in the
back of my Blazer.
Leaving the first Porta Potty, Joanna went down the lint, until she found
another one that had been nailed shut. Again, the top of the door was riddled
with bullet holes. Lewis had been firing at the Porta Potties all right, but
high enough not to hit anyone inside scaring hell out of them but not
necessar-ily trying to kill anyone.
Mr. Childers, Joanna called through the door. Are you in there? Are you all
right?
There was no answer, not even a whimper. Behind her Joanna heard the sound of
running footsteps and, off across the ghostly starlit grassland, another
siren. Dave was headed toward the first Porta Potty, but Joanna stopped him.
Open this one first, she ordered. The woman s all right, but I m not so
sure about Mark Childers.
It took several tries before Dave Hollicker finally pried open the door. When
he did so, Mark Childers limp body cascaded out onto the ground.
He may have been shot, Joanna said, kneeling beside the stricken man and
checking for a pulse. There was one. It was faint and erratic, but it existed.
Nowhere on his body, however, was there any sign of blood.
Call for an ambulance, Dave, she said. We ll have to have him airlifted out
of here. And bring blankets. About that time Mark Childers pulse disappeared
altogether. Without even thinking about it, Joanna began to administer CPR.
Please, Karen Brainard pleaded from her prison. What are you doing? Can t
you let me out? What s taking so long?
Joanna wanted to tell the woman to shut up and wait, but she didn t. Couldn t.
She was too busy concentrating on what she was doing too busy keeping track of
the rhythmic and life-saving breathing and pushing. In the end, Joanna didn t
have to say a word. Dave Hollicker did it for her.
Quiet in there, he yelled as he came racing back to Joan-na s side with an
armload of blankets. We re trying to save a man s life out here. Be patient.
We ll get to you in a minute.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Page 91
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
It was almost three o clock in the morning before Joanna finally made it home
to High Lonesome Ranch. She had stayed long enough for the Air-Evac ambulance
to load Mark Childers ominously still body onto a stretcher and carry it
away. She had stayed long enough for Ernie Carpenter to arrive on the scene. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
For an answer, Lewis Flores reached out. Joanna thought he was going for his
other gun, which lay beside him on the hood. Instead, he picked up something
else. By then Joanna s eyes were adjusting to the lack of light and she was
able to make out that he had picked up a bottle a tequila bottle per-haps and
was taking a swig.
Lewis. Joanna tried to make her voice sound authorita-tive but calm. More
deputies are on their way. They ll be here in a few minutes. You ll be
surrounded. Give up before someone gets hurt.
I already am hurt, he said.
Joanna breathed deeply. She had him talking. That was a good sign. Where are
Mark Childers and Karen Brainard, Lewis? What have you done with them?
There was a sudden pounding. It seemed to be coming from one of the Porta
Potties. I m in here, Karen Brainard yelled. I m locked in the toilet. He s
been shooting at me. He s crazy. Get me out of here.
Relief spilled over Joanna. At least one of the two was still alive, still
safe. Where s Mark Childers? she asked. Why don t you ask him? Lewis
responded.
But Joanna didn t want to talk to Mark Childers. She didn t want to take her
focus off Lewis Flores. He was the one with the guns. Why are you hurt,
Lewis? What s happened?
They lied to me, Lewis answered. They told me that it wouldn t matter if
the process got hurried up a little. They said they d make it worth my while,
and no one would care. But people do care, and as soon as there was trouble,
they turned it all on me. Tried to make out that it was all my fault all my
responsibility.
That s not true, Karen responded from her prison. We didn t do any such
thing, did we? Tell her, Mark. Tell Sheriff Brady that Lewis is lying.
But if Mark Childers had anything to add to Karen Brain-ard s denial, he
wasn t saying. In the distant background, Jo-anna heard the sound of at least
one siren. Reinforcements were on their way. The cavalry was about to ride to
the rescue.
Please, Lewis, she begged. Think about Carmen. Put down your weapons. Move
away from the car with your hands in the air.
I am thinking about Carmen, Lewis Flores replied. I was thinking about her
and all those steps and her having to climb them every day. Of her having to
carry groceries home just the way her mother did. I wanted a better place for
her, something really nice. And Mark Childers was going to help me get it. But
it s not worth it. I finally figured that out. I ve lost everything now my
job, my family, my self-respect. They ve taken it all away.
Page 90
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
You have to let us out of here, Karen Brainard pleaded.
He locked us in here, and he s been using us for target prac-tice. Please let
us out.
Half a mile away across the desert, a patrol car rumbled across the cattle
guard and then roared up the roadway.
Do you hear that, Lewis? Joanna asked. The other depu-ties are coming right
now. Please, put down your weapon so no one gets hurt.
His hand shot out again. Joanna thought he was reaching for the bottle again,
which was out of her sight line on the other side of the hood. But what Lewis
Flores raised to his lips that time wasn t tequila. Joanna saw the flare of
light as the gun was fired, heard the explosion, and saw him flop back-ward
against the windshield.
No! she heard herself screaming as she ran toward the Taurus. N0000000!
But Lewis Flores was dead long before she reached him.
Oh, God. What s he doing now? Karen screeched. Make him stop. He s going to
kill us. The man is crazy. He s going to kill us all.
Joanna stopped at the Taurus long enough to grab Lewis Flores limp wrist.
Briefly her fingers searched for a nonexistent pulse. One look at the bloody
carnage that had once been the back of Lewis Flores head told her there was
nothing to do. Dropping his lifeless arm, Joanna raced to the line of Porta
Potties just as a patrol car skidded to a stop behind her Blazer.
Unholstering his side arm, Deputy Dave Hollicker jumped out of the vehicle.
What s the status, Sheriff Brady?
By then Joanna was at the door to the Porta Potty. It wasn t just closed. It
had been nailed shut. The top of the door was riddled with bullet holes. From
inside, she heard the sound of hysterical weeping.
Bring a crowbar, Dave, she ordered. And make it quick. There s one in the
back of my Blazer.
Leaving the first Porta Potty, Joanna went down the lint, until she found
another one that had been nailed shut. Again, the top of the door was riddled
with bullet holes. Lewis had been firing at the Porta Potties all right, but
high enough not to hit anyone inside scaring hell out of them but not
necessar-ily trying to kill anyone.
Mr. Childers, Joanna called through the door. Are you in there? Are you all
right?
There was no answer, not even a whimper. Behind her Joanna heard the sound of
running footsteps and, off across the ghostly starlit grassland, another
siren. Dave was headed toward the first Porta Potty, but Joanna stopped him.
Open this one first, she ordered. The woman s all right, but I m not so
sure about Mark Childers.
It took several tries before Dave Hollicker finally pried open the door. When
he did so, Mark Childers limp body cascaded out onto the ground.
He may have been shot, Joanna said, kneeling beside the stricken man and
checking for a pulse. There was one. It was faint and erratic, but it existed.
Nowhere on his body, however, was there any sign of blood.
Call for an ambulance, Dave, she said. We ll have to have him airlifted out
of here. And bring blankets. About that time Mark Childers pulse disappeared
altogether. Without even thinking about it, Joanna began to administer CPR.
Please, Karen Brainard pleaded from her prison. What are you doing? Can t
you let me out? What s taking so long?
Joanna wanted to tell the woman to shut up and wait, but she didn t. Couldn t.
She was too busy concentrating on what she was doing too busy keeping track of
the rhythmic and life-saving breathing and pushing. In the end, Joanna didn t
have to say a word. Dave Hollicker did it for her.
Quiet in there, he yelled as he came racing back to Joan-na s side with an
armload of blankets. We re trying to save a man s life out here. Be patient.
We ll get to you in a minute.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Page 91
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
It was almost three o clock in the morning before Joanna finally made it home
to High Lonesome Ranch. She had stayed long enough for the Air-Evac ambulance
to load Mark Childers ominously still body onto a stretcher and carry it
away. She had stayed long enough for Ernie Carpenter to arrive on the scene. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]