Harvest, Quietus #1 Read Online Free Page B

oppressive. This is creeping me out
more and more with each passing minute.
    Why are there no other
people on this route?
    This is usually such a busy road.
Maybe there's another accident somewhere further up? I wonder where
James Richardson and his sister are? And if they went this way? I
expect they did. This incident must have happened in between our
departures. I'm concerned about them. I might not like him much,
but still... even so...and then there's his young sister... I
really wouldn't want anything to have happened to them.
    This is all so much more
than strange.
    Another longer shiver runs up and down
my spine, involuntarily, despite the heat. A sense of something
very, very wrong invades my whole being.
    I shrug my shoulders, and sigh
heavily, perplexed, then turn to walk back to my car.
    I suppose I should call in the
incident to the police, then I can get on the interstate and head
for home.
    At that second, I hear a low hum
behind me and look over my shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief as
I see another car, coming toward me in the distance, surrounded by
a heavy heat haze.
    Thank God. Other
people...
    As I climb inside the Chevvy, I turn
on the engine and blast up the air con. I'm sticky with the cloying
humidity and need to cool off
    Then I look up and see who's coming my
way. I'm not sure if I'm pleased or disappointed that it's their
Land Rover approaching. It slows and edges close until we're side
by side, and he stops. We both open our windows to speak and the
heat rushes in like a furnace.
    His face is full of worry and
confusion and I start to panic inside as he explains his
findings.
    “The road's blocked on the I-75, in
both directions...and there's cars everywhere,” he gestures wildly
with his hands, and shakes his head, seemingly at a loss. I sit
quietly watching him and trying to listen, my panic levels rising
fast. “...I just don't get it...no people... just empty cars. Tons
and tons of cars... I'm heading to Spring Hill via the minor routes
across to the US 19, it's the only way I'm gonna get through,” he
informs me.
    “Really,” I say with a calm voice, covering
my true feelings, “ Well I live in Ocala, so I'm
going in the opposite direction, but I'll keep off the interstate.
Thanks for the tip. So you've no idea what the problem
is?”
    “No one to ask. I tried to call the
police but there must be an issue with my network, there's no
signal. I'll check local news later in Spring Hill. I'm guessing
it's a major problem though. I had a real good look from the top of
the intersection. It's the same story everywhere you look. No one
around or anything to explain it. And whats really weird...some of
the car engines are still running. Who'd leave their car running?
It must have been a very hasty exit. Perhaps something dangerous
has spilled up ahead?”
    “You think? ” Cold chills
run up and down my spine in reaction. “Well I don't like the sound
of this at all. Look, here's my number.” I hand him a card from the
dashboard storage box. “Call me if you need to, okay?”
    “Sure, I will do, and thanks.” He
smiles, and for a brief moment I warm to him suddenly, but correct
myself, my expression telling him otherwise.
    “Purely in case of an emergency,
that's all,” I clarify.
    He looks at the card.
    “Okay, Wynter. Nice name by the way.
Unusual.”
    “Thank you.”
    “We're staying at the Holiday Inn, on
the US 19 at Spring Hill. Let's see if I can text you my details.”
He sends me a text and my cell bleeps loudly.
    “Well your network seems to be working
again. Let's stay in touch until we're sure
everything's back to normal. Call me when you get to your hotel or
I'll call you. Hopefully it's nothing to worry about. Some weird
military maneuver perhaps.”
    “Yeah, it's all weird today. Like the
sky and the raging volcano heat.”
    “Mmm, very striking colors for mid
afternoon. Maybe a freak weather system of some kind. A hot draft
blown in from Mexico, at a guess. I