End Game Read Online Free

to hear.
    “How bad are you hit?”
    Sarah shook her head. Jolaine saw it as a shift in her silhouette. “It’s not good. I’m hit in my middle.”
    “So we do need to go to a hospital.”
    “No. That’s where they’ll be looking. The doctors will have to call the police for a bullet wound.”
    “Yeah!” Graham said from the back. “We need to call the police.”
    “Not for this, sweetie,” Sarah said. “We don’t want the police involved.”
    “Where’s Dad?”
    Sarah shot a look to Jolaine that said it all. But she didn’t respond.
    “Mom?”
    “Dad’s staying behind,” Sarah said.
    “But he’s okay? He’ll be joining us?”
    Silence.
    “Mom?”
    “Let’s talk about this later, okay, Graham?” Sarah asked.
    “Is he okay?”
    “ Later, Graham.” That tone cut the conversation off at the root.
    Jolaine said, “What’s going on, Sarah? Tell me why this is happening.”
    With effort that seemed to trigger a spasm of pain, Sarah stretched her leg out to gain access to the front pocket of her jeans and went fishing for something.
    “Mom?” Graham said. “Why aren’t you answering?” His voice trembled in a combination of anger, fear, and sadness.
    Sarah was holding herself together pretty well, especially with her bullet wound. Since she hadn’t bled out already, and clearly no bones had been clipped, Jolaine had hope for her. But she needed a doctor, and she needed one now.
    “I’m sorry, Graham,” Sarah said. “I’m okay, really. I’ve just got a lot of things going through my mind right now.”
    “So, are we going to the police?”
    “No, not tonight.”
    “A hospital, then,” Graham said. “You’re hurt. You’ve been shot.”
    Sarah’s hunt through her pocket produced a cell phone. Jolaine was hoping for something else. She wasn’t sure what, but some kind of a solution would have been nice.
    “You’re going to make a phone call?” Jolaine said. “How about you answer my question? We’re all in danger here, you know. Not just you.”
    Again, Sarah ignored her. The smart phone’s screen bathed her in a silver-blue light that highlighted her pallor. As she swiped at the screen, she left bloody streaks.
    “What are you looking for?” Jolaine insisted. Ahead, the twisting country road was an opaque black ribbon.
    “I found it,” Sarah declared. She pressed a button and brought her phone to her ear. Whoever she was calling had better be of calm temperament, Jolaine thought. Ten-thirty at night was late for anyone.
    “Doctor Jones, please,” Sarah said into the phone. “This is Mrs. Smith.”
    Ah, Jolaine thought. They’re spooks. I should have known.
    “Four seven four bravo,” Sarah said after a pause. “Gunshot. Serious.” After another pause, Sarah said, “I’m sorry, but I’ll never remember all of that. Let me hand you over to someone who will. Yes, a trusted source.” With that, she handed the Droid across the center console to Jolaine. “This is Doctor Jones,” she said.
    Sure it is, Jolaine didn’t say. She brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
    “What’s your name?” the voice asked from the other side.
    “What’s yours?”
    “Don’t trifle with me, missy. You already know my name. I am Doctor Jones.”
    “Fine,” Jolaine said. “My name is Doe. Jane Doe. Don’t trifle with me, either, Doc. The last few minutes have been really, really intense. I’ve got a seriously injured woman sitting next to me who needs help, and you want to do small talk. Seriously, Doc, who’s trifling whom?”
    Five seconds of silence convinced Jolaine that she’d either made her point or driven the doc to hang up. “You sound like you’re part of the Community,” Jones said.
    “On the periphery,” Jolaine confessed. “A contractor, never official.”
    “I see. How bad are her wounds?”
    “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them. There’s a lot of blood. She’s pale but she can talk, and she seems to have it together cognitively.”
    “