First Blood (1990) Read Online Free
Author: David - First Blood 01 Morrell
right.
Teasle took a deep drag on his cigarette and glanced up at the green-brown mountains lumped close on the horizon. There was a sudden cool wind
that smelled of crisp leaves and then it was gone.
'Teasle to station,' he said into the microphone of his car radio. 'Has the mail come in yet?'
As always, Shingleton, the day radioman, was quick to answer, his voice crackling from static. 'Sure has, Chief. I already checked it for you. Nothing from your wife, I'm afraid.'
'What about from a lawyer? Or maybe something from California that she didn't put her name on the outside.' 'I already checked that too, Chief. Sorry. Nothing.'
'Anything important I ought to know about?'
'Just a set of traffic lights that shorted out, but I got the works department over there fixing it.' 'If that's all then, I'll be a few minutes yet coming back.'
This kid was a nuisance, waiting for him. He wanted to get back to the station and phone her. She was gone three weeks now and she had promised to write at the most by today and here she had not. He did not care anymore about keeping his own promise to her not to call, he was going to phone anyway. Maybe she had thought it over and changed her mind.
But he doubted that.
He lit another cigarette and glanced to the side. There were neighbor women out on porches looking to see what he was up to. That was the end, he decided. He flipped the cigarette out the cruiser window, switched the ignition and drove down to the main road to find out where the hell the kid was.
Nowhere in sight.
Sure. He's gone and left and that look was just to make me think be was coming back.
So he headed toward the station to phone, and three blocks later when all at once he saw the kid up on the left sidewalk, leaning against a wire fence over the stream, he slammed on his brakes so hard in surprise that the car following crashed into the rear end of the cruiser.
The guy who had hit him was sitting shocked behind the wheel, his hand over his mouth. Teasle opened the cruiser door and stared at the guy a second before he walked over to where the kid was leaning against the wire fence.
'How did you get into town without me seeing you?' 'Magic.'
'Get in the car.'
'I don't think so.'
'You think a little more.'
There were cars lined up behind the car that had struck the cruiser. The driver was now standing in the middle of the road, peering at the smashed taillight, shaking his head. Teasle's open door angled into the opposite lane, slowing traffic. Drivers blared their horns; customers and clerks came sticking their heads out of shops across the street.
'You listen,' Teasle said. 'I'm going to clear that mess of traffic. 'The time I'm through, you be in that cruiser.'
They eyed each other. The next thing, Teasle was over to the guy who had hit the cruiser. The guy was still shaking his head at the damage. 'Driver's license, insurance card, ownership papers,' Teasle told him. 'Please.' He went and shut the cruiser door.
'But I didn't have a chance to stop.'
'You were following too close.'
'But you slammed on your brakes too fast.'
'It doesn't matter. The law says the car in back is always wrong. You were following too close for an emergency.'
'But-'
'I'm not about to argue with you,' Teasle told him, 'Please give me your driver's license, insurance card and ownership papers.' He looked over at the kid, and of course the kid was gone.
Chapter 5
Rambo stayed out walking in the open to make it clear that he was not trying to hide. Teasle could give up the game at this point and leave him alone; if he did not, well then it was Teasle who wanted the trouble, not himself.
He walked along the left-hand sidewalk, looking down at the stream wide and fast in the sun. Across the stream was the bright yellow, freshly sandblasted wall of a building with balconies over the water and a sign high on top MADISON HISTORIC HOTEL. Rambo tried to figure what was historic about a building that looked as if it had just been
Teasle took a deep drag on his cigarette and glanced up at the green-brown mountains lumped close on the horizon. There was a sudden cool wind
that smelled of crisp leaves and then it was gone.
'Teasle to station,' he said into the microphone of his car radio. 'Has the mail come in yet?'
As always, Shingleton, the day radioman, was quick to answer, his voice crackling from static. 'Sure has, Chief. I already checked it for you. Nothing from your wife, I'm afraid.'
'What about from a lawyer? Or maybe something from California that she didn't put her name on the outside.' 'I already checked that too, Chief. Sorry. Nothing.'
'Anything important I ought to know about?'
'Just a set of traffic lights that shorted out, but I got the works department over there fixing it.' 'If that's all then, I'll be a few minutes yet coming back.'
This kid was a nuisance, waiting for him. He wanted to get back to the station and phone her. She was gone three weeks now and she had promised to write at the most by today and here she had not. He did not care anymore about keeping his own promise to her not to call, he was going to phone anyway. Maybe she had thought it over and changed her mind.
But he doubted that.
He lit another cigarette and glanced to the side. There were neighbor women out on porches looking to see what he was up to. That was the end, he decided. He flipped the cigarette out the cruiser window, switched the ignition and drove down to the main road to find out where the hell the kid was.
Nowhere in sight.
Sure. He's gone and left and that look was just to make me think be was coming back.
So he headed toward the station to phone, and three blocks later when all at once he saw the kid up on the left sidewalk, leaning against a wire fence over the stream, he slammed on his brakes so hard in surprise that the car following crashed into the rear end of the cruiser.
The guy who had hit him was sitting shocked behind the wheel, his hand over his mouth. Teasle opened the cruiser door and stared at the guy a second before he walked over to where the kid was leaning against the wire fence.
'How did you get into town without me seeing you?' 'Magic.'
'Get in the car.'
'I don't think so.'
'You think a little more.'
There were cars lined up behind the car that had struck the cruiser. The driver was now standing in the middle of the road, peering at the smashed taillight, shaking his head. Teasle's open door angled into the opposite lane, slowing traffic. Drivers blared their horns; customers and clerks came sticking their heads out of shops across the street.
'You listen,' Teasle said. 'I'm going to clear that mess of traffic. 'The time I'm through, you be in that cruiser.'
They eyed each other. The next thing, Teasle was over to the guy who had hit the cruiser. The guy was still shaking his head at the damage. 'Driver's license, insurance card, ownership papers,' Teasle told him. 'Please.' He went and shut the cruiser door.
'But I didn't have a chance to stop.'
'You were following too close.'
'But you slammed on your brakes too fast.'
'It doesn't matter. The law says the car in back is always wrong. You were following too close for an emergency.'
'But-'
'I'm not about to argue with you,' Teasle told him, 'Please give me your driver's license, insurance card and ownership papers.' He looked over at the kid, and of course the kid was gone.
Chapter 5
Rambo stayed out walking in the open to make it clear that he was not trying to hide. Teasle could give up the game at this point and leave him alone; if he did not, well then it was Teasle who wanted the trouble, not himself.
He walked along the left-hand sidewalk, looking down at the stream wide and fast in the sun. Across the stream was the bright yellow, freshly sandblasted wall of a building with balconies over the water and a sign high on top MADISON HISTORIC HOTEL. Rambo tried to figure what was historic about a building that looked as if it had just been
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