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a last time. "You ready, Phil?" I 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 
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stripes 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 woman's voice. "Opened fire--" "I read. Over." The radio crackled. "Sheriff Blair?" Shouts and static. "Running Doe Road. This is Juana. Sergeant Lujan. Over." "Need assistance!" Blair shouted again between bursts of pistol fire, a  |
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