Behind the Fire: A Dark Thriller Read Online Free Page A
Author: Susan May
offloading trash. Maybe he was dumping the bike tonight. That could easily explain it.
As the foliage on the side of the road grew thicker, Emily increased her concentration as Bobby’s headlights flashed and winked along the twisting dirt road. She eased her foot down on the accelerator wanting to keep his vehicle in sight. Her twin beams fluttered up and down as the car dipped and rose in the rutted, compacted dirt. The lights turned her surroundings into an eerie gray cavern.
As she rounded a bend, the flashing lights ahead turned into a solid red glow. She estimated Bobby to be about a half a mile away from her now. Then, in a second, the glow of his lights disappeared, as he must have turned again.
Emily slowed the car and rolled down the window. She craned her neck outside to listen for sounds of his truck. The noise of scrunching gravel under her car’s tires caused her to wince. In the silent landscape it echoed like a thousand blocks of ice cracking.
As the car crept along, the red dust from the road invaded the interior cabin. The air smelled old and dry, with every ounce of moisture sucked from it. It was pointless, she couldn’t hear his truck, and the dust made her cough. She rolled up the window. The manual mechanism groaned a loud complaint.
A new car would be nice, or even just a newish car with electric windows. Since the kids, most things were a luxury. She hoped whatever Bobby was doing wouldn’t cost him his job. They needed the money.
She couldn’t be positive, but she didn’t think he’d stopped at the usual dumping ground. The idea he was out on a trash run at this time of night faded rapidly.
At least she had one comfort: no way his secret involved another woman. This was not date-night terrain. More like body-dumping terrain. A chilling thought, which she brushed away.
Again, ahead of her, his taillights glowed red, their reflection turning the surrounding wilderness magenta-brown. Emily slowed her car to a crawl, then eased it to a stop and waited, her foot hovering above the accelerator.
Bobby’s lights didn’t move again.
Emily turned off her car’s lights and instantly she was immersed in shadows. Fortunately, the moon shed enough light for her to see ahead. She inched the car slowly along.
Her heart thrummed as she leaned forward to peer through the windshield, now caked in dust and fogged with the warmth of her breath. She rolled down the window again and listened. The only sound above the rustle of the leaves was the rhythmic buzz of crickets.
What should she do now?
Keep driving until she pulled up behind him? Then: Hi, honey, saw your taillights on, thought I’d drop in?
The baseball cap excuse was now buried in the lame basket.
Yep, I followed you for thirty minutes because I knew you’d be worrying about your bald spot in the middle of the night.
Nope, she had no excuse, well, no plausible excuse. Curiosity was now a wild burn only the truth could salve. Something crazy had brought her husband out here in the middle of the night, and whatever that crazy was, she had to know.
Emily stopped the car and sat there for long seconds, as bravado, anger, and fear ran intermittently through her veins. The dashboard clock glowed green and alien. 10.55 a.m. Her jaw clenched.
Should she? Shouldn’t she?
His truck’s lights shone through the brush like a lighthouse beacon. She figured it would only take five minutes of brisk walking and she would be there. She could at least take the next step. Just get over there, and see what he was doing. Then from there she’d decide.
Emily pushed at the door, cringing as its squeaks and groans echoed too loudly around her. Just put one foot in front of the other , she told herself and started walking. The urge to stop, turn around, and drive home dogged her every step. Nothing good would come of this. Curiosity, though, had strung around her so tightly she felt strangled.
She kept thinking: what if he needs my help?
Not that
As the foliage on the side of the road grew thicker, Emily increased her concentration as Bobby’s headlights flashed and winked along the twisting dirt road. She eased her foot down on the accelerator wanting to keep his vehicle in sight. Her twin beams fluttered up and down as the car dipped and rose in the rutted, compacted dirt. The lights turned her surroundings into an eerie gray cavern.
As she rounded a bend, the flashing lights ahead turned into a solid red glow. She estimated Bobby to be about a half a mile away from her now. Then, in a second, the glow of his lights disappeared, as he must have turned again.
Emily slowed the car and rolled down the window. She craned her neck outside to listen for sounds of his truck. The noise of scrunching gravel under her car’s tires caused her to wince. In the silent landscape it echoed like a thousand blocks of ice cracking.
As the car crept along, the red dust from the road invaded the interior cabin. The air smelled old and dry, with every ounce of moisture sucked from it. It was pointless, she couldn’t hear his truck, and the dust made her cough. She rolled up the window. The manual mechanism groaned a loud complaint.
A new car would be nice, or even just a newish car with electric windows. Since the kids, most things were a luxury. She hoped whatever Bobby was doing wouldn’t cost him his job. They needed the money.
She couldn’t be positive, but she didn’t think he’d stopped at the usual dumping ground. The idea he was out on a trash run at this time of night faded rapidly.
At least she had one comfort: no way his secret involved another woman. This was not date-night terrain. More like body-dumping terrain. A chilling thought, which she brushed away.
Again, ahead of her, his taillights glowed red, their reflection turning the surrounding wilderness magenta-brown. Emily slowed her car to a crawl, then eased it to a stop and waited, her foot hovering above the accelerator.
Bobby’s lights didn’t move again.
Emily turned off her car’s lights and instantly she was immersed in shadows. Fortunately, the moon shed enough light for her to see ahead. She inched the car slowly along.
Her heart thrummed as she leaned forward to peer through the windshield, now caked in dust and fogged with the warmth of her breath. She rolled down the window again and listened. The only sound above the rustle of the leaves was the rhythmic buzz of crickets.
What should she do now?
Keep driving until she pulled up behind him? Then: Hi, honey, saw your taillights on, thought I’d drop in?
The baseball cap excuse was now buried in the lame basket.
Yep, I followed you for thirty minutes because I knew you’d be worrying about your bald spot in the middle of the night.
Nope, she had no excuse, well, no plausible excuse. Curiosity was now a wild burn only the truth could salve. Something crazy had brought her husband out here in the middle of the night, and whatever that crazy was, she had to know.
Emily stopped the car and sat there for long seconds, as bravado, anger, and fear ran intermittently through her veins. The dashboard clock glowed green and alien. 10.55 a.m. Her jaw clenched.
Should she? Shouldn’t she?
His truck’s lights shone through the brush like a lighthouse beacon. She figured it would only take five minutes of brisk walking and she would be there. She could at least take the next step. Just get over there, and see what he was doing. Then from there she’d decide.
Emily pushed at the door, cringing as its squeaks and groans echoed too loudly around her. Just put one foot in front of the other , she told herself and started walking. The urge to stop, turn around, and drive home dogged her every step. Nothing good would come of this. Curiosity, though, had strung around her so tightly she felt strangled.
She kept thinking: what if he needs my help?
Not that
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