"You ready, Phil?"
jumped in and hit the ignition, flooring the pedal as the car slid
and steadied as the tires caught the gravel.
"It's all Blair needs--the kid playing hero
in the middle of the Night Slayer mess."
"You want to call Blair?"
"He's got enough on his mind handling Sharp."
"Yeah, the fence."
"Let's try to head Sloan off--"
I drove fast up the unpaved road as leafy
aspen branches hit and brushed along the windows. A pair of eyes flashed
from the white-trunked trees--a black-masked raccoon paused at the
road's edge, twirled as it broke the headlights' trance, striped tail
swinging back toward the river.
Loud rock flew against the wheel wells, the
aspen stood up bright and disappeared and the orange reflection
of the main road jumped.
"Clear right--" Glad said.
I looked left and without touching the brake
pulled out onto the asphalt road in a long mushy slide. In the mirror
I saw Pete's headlights bounce as he followed us onto the pavement,
then ahead the glow of two blue lights and the dark buffalo standing
by the barbed-wire fence.
Glad lifted something from the seat.
"I forgot to take in the radio." He fiddled
with the switch.
"Roger. Running Doe Road!" It was a
"I read. Over." The radio crackled.
Shouts and static.
"Running Doe Road. This is Juana. Sergeant
Blair shouted again between bursts of pistol