The Passenger Read Online Free Page A

he said and raised his shield
and Colt together.
    The one with the girl grabbed hold of her
by the hair and threw her headfirst into the passenger-side window of the
Maverick. He saw blood splash the window and the girl slam down to the tarmac
like a sack of rocks and the other two men were piling into the Jeep when he fired his warning shot into the air.
But that stopped none of them — nor whoever had pulled into the lot, because
the car stopped right the hell between them.
    He ran around behind it and saw the fake
cop lurch into the driver’s seat and heard the Jeep turn over and saw it start
to pull away and fired for the left rear tire and fired again. Sparks scattered
across the tarmac, but marksmanship had never been his strong suit so he ran to
the driver of the car, an old guy in T-shirt and suspenders who from the look
of him finally was aware of what kind of shitstorm he’d just driven into. He
pointed at the girl.
    “Go inside and call Nine-one-one. Tell
them you need an ambulance. Tell them it’s an emergency!”
    Get
to your fucking car , he
thought. And then he thought, Where?
Jesus, where? Where the hell did I park it?
     
    * * *
     
    Inside the Jeep Emil was having his own
goddamn problems. The piece of shit kept slipping out of gear, lurching
forward, stopping, lurching forward. Through the rearview mirror he saw the cop
running around through the parking lot like a confused dog who’d lost the scent
and wondered briefly what the hell that was all about.
    “Better move it, Emil,” Ray said.
    Emil shot him a look in the mirror and
tried again.
    * * *
     
    Wellman flung open the door to his car
and slapped his cherry on the roof, hit his siren and slammed the door. He knew
something was happening with the Jeep. He had that window, thank god. The Jeep
kept stopping and starting and then as his own car roared to life he saw that the driver had finally got it right.
He was headed for the exit and seconds later they were out on the road together
and Wellman was riding up his tail pipe.
     
    * * *
     
    Emil felt the jolt from behind and then
something went terribly wrong and he was swerving back and forth from one lane
to the other, the Jeep nearly impossible to control and he glanced into the
rearview mirror and saw the cop fishtailing all the hell over, their rear and
front fenders locked together.
    Then ahead of him he saw the headlights.
     
    * * *
     
    Wellman saw them too, headlights coming
on fast, much too fast goddammit and
reflexively hit his brakes. His tires locked, screeching, the car whipping back
and forth like a trailer gone berserk. No
belt again , you fool, he thought, smelling rubber smoke off the braking
Jeep ahead as it veered suddenly and finally into the oncoming lane.
     
    * * *
     
    “ Marion !”
Janet screamed.
    Her hands slammed the dash and the
harness scraped her breastbone as Marion hit the brakes and wrenched at the
wheel but for a moment she was absolutely certain it was much too little much
too late, the headlights were almost on them, so close she could see the Jeep’s
tires smoking and then it jerked suddenly off to the right and they were
tumbling down a low shoulder, Marion struggling for control, and the last thing
she saw was the tree.
     
    * * *
     
    The cop’s car hit them like a cargo tank
on a tanker braking without baffles, when what’s behind is a shit-load heavier
than what’s in front, jackknifing ninety degrees and slamming into the
driver’s-side door and throwing Emil clear across the seat. He was aware of Ray
and Billy piling out of the back on the passenger side and through the webbed
broken window of the cop’s car could see him slumped against the wheel,
bleeding from a head wound but at just that moment beginning to move.
    He opened the door and got out onto the
tarmac, sprinted to the passenger side of the cop’s car just as the cop’s head
disappeared from view and thought, Gun,
you want to bet he’s going for his goddamn gun? and pulled