The Midnight Road Read Online Free

still have the gun and all.”
    “You’re a fool. You don’t know what’s happening. You have no idea.”
    “Maybe not. So enlighten me.”
    “Nuddin will do that for you. It’s not over. It’s just beginning. I’m not doing anybody a favor, I’m just passing trouble out of my hands.”
    “You should’ve done it sooner.”
    “I know.” Shepard reached into his pocket, and tossed Flynn a key. “Take him and go.”
    Nuddin went, Oh oh oh.
    Christina lunged at Flynn with a nasty intent. He realized he didn’t have that strong a death wish after all. In fact, he was getting a little worried here as the lady got closer and started to cock the revolver. Her husband dodged in front of her. He was fast. They were both very fast. She said, “Get out of my way, Mark.”
    “I can’t do that.”
    “Get out of my way now. You can’t let him take my brother.”
    “That’s exactly what he’s going to do.”
    Shepard moved as if to embrace his wife, like he was asking her to dance. His hand closed on her right wrist and he spun her around and gripped her in a loving hug, pulling her hands tight against her chest, the gun useless in her fist. She let out a sharp grunt of disgust and anger. Knotted black veins stood out in her neck. Her arms were all corded muscle.
    Flynn had a rough call to make. He still wasn’t certain about Kelly’s safety. This was a buggy house and he didn’t like the idea of leaving the kid behind. But if he tried to take her, Shepard might lose his head and Flynn would have to deal with both these nutjobs. He’d never run from a fight in his life, and he could handle himself pretty well, but the look in Christina’s eyes definitely made him think that if everything went to hell, he’d be leading the train.
    It was a good thought to have. He had fourteen minutes to live.
    He unlocked Nuddin’s cage, reached in and grabbed the guy. He was so light he might’ve been made of balsa wood. Nuddin laughed and pressed a papery hand to Flynn’s face, patted him there. Flynn wrapped his coat around Nuddin, carried him up the stairs, through the house and out to the Charger. They slipped and hit the ice twice. Nuddin got up and sort of loped through the snow, running on the balls of his feet. The blind eyes of the house burned behind them.
    A silver Cadillac Escalade SUV was parked on an angle next to the Charger, as if Shepard hadn’t known what to do with himself—drive into the garage or back out again and take off. He’d been torn in half about even stepping into his own home.
    Flynn wrangled open the Charger’s door and strapped Nuddin inside. He had the driver’s door open when he saw that Zero had followed him outside, and the girl had followed the dog. Zero hopped into the driver’s seat and sat there as if waiting to whip out onto Route 25a. Flynn just shook his head.
    “Get in,” he told Kelly.
    A gunshot punctuated his words. He grabbed the girl by the arm and flipped her into the backseat.
    “Buckle up,” he ordered and climbed in himself, shoving aside the dog. A moment later Christina Shepard broke from the twisted house and ran onto the lawn through the heavy snowdrifts, holding the .38. She moved extremely well, with her arm extended, firing with great precision.
    She got off three rounds. The first hit the front quarter panel, the next ripped a furrow across the hood and the last tore off one of the wiper blades and cracked the windshield directly in front of Flynn’s face.
    She’d snuffed her own husband. And what kind of a woman shoots at a car when her seven-year-old daughter and retarded brother are inside?
    Maybe Flynn had never really met crazy before. Maybe this was his first time.
    He wheeled out of the driveway, onto the dark road, and gunned it. In the rearview he watched her jump into the Caddy SUV and saw it fishtail after him, the head lights coming up fast.
    “Why is my mother shooting at us?” Kelly asked.
    “Because she’s shithouse crazy, kid. But