Read Online In Constant Fear by Peter Liney - Free Book Online Page B

precisely twelve point four miles of gas. Either we could go that far down the highway and hope for the best, or try another track or two. A little further on, I made the decision for us, this time diving off on the other side of the road, almost immediately entering a thick pine forest.
    “Fingers crossed,” Gigi commented dolefully.
    “Yeah,” I replied, feeling a whole canyon away from a point of hopeful.
    We came to this sun-starved clearing with a faded wooden two-story house and a coupla barns. Through the open double-doors of the nearest one I could see a large circular saw—in fact, going by the wood stacked everywhere, timber had obviously been—and maybe still was—the occupants’ business. There didn’t look to be anyone around. I went and knocked on the front door, then returned to the limo and started blowing the horn, but still no one appeared.
    I gave a frustrated sigh and turned to Gigi, but she was staring into the nearby forest.
    “What’s up?”
    “Thought I saw someone.”
    Both of us stood there for several moments, scrutinizing the dense darkness of the pine trees, not able to see more than a few feet inside the tree line. I was concerned we were about to be shot at again and ready to jump back into the limo.
    “Can’t see nothing,” I told her. “Maybe a deer?”
    Gigi shrugged and followed along behind me as I cautiously went to enter the nearest barn. Everything inside—miscellaneous tools, numerous parts, general junk, a workbench—looked like it had just been left, like the owner had walked out five minutes ago.
    We immediately started to hunt around for gas; me going one way, Gigi the other, soon building up confidence and becoming more invasive, shifting stuff around in our search. Suddenly Gigi stopped, giving this little grunt and staring at the ground.
    “What’s the matter?” I asked, making my way over.
    There was a large pool of dried blood soaked into the dirt, deep and dark, like it was several inches deep.
    “Something got itself slaughtered,” she said.
    “Yeah,” I replied, not wanting to pay it too much attention; just at that moment we had other, far more pressing, things to worry about. I noticed this large tarp covering something bulky stacked up against the wall and went over to yank it off—to our delight, we were confronted by several large drums. I gave the nearest one a kick—whatever was in there, it was full.
    I screwed the top off and took a sniff. Yep, it was gas all right.
    “I’ll get the limo,” I said, our mood immediately lifting.
    I turned for the doorway, but stopped. There were two guys standing there, haunted-looking, pale to the point of sickness, one holding a rifle, the other an ax. For a moment we all stared at each other as if words were unnecessary, that we all knew what the situation was.
    Finally the guy with the rifle broke into this sick, nigh-on toothless grin—the very image of a mass murderer you saw on the screen when you were a kid but no one would talk to you about.
    “We got ourselves a girl,” he kinda sang, with just the hint of celebration.
    His companion merely grunted; Gigi, with all her strange clothes and feathers in her hair plainly not to his taste.
    “Fine by me,” the first guy smirked.
    “We don’t want any trouble,” I told them. “Just gas. We’re happy to trade.”
    “Oh, you’ll trade,” the guy with the rifle sneered.
    “She your daughter?” his companion asked.
    “No.”
    “So what you doing in here with her?”
    “Ya dirty old bastard,” the first guy taunted.
    He wasn’t pointing the rifle directly at me, but it wouldn’t take a split moment to swing it in my direction. And for sure I didn’t like the look of the polished blade on his companion’s ax, nor the thought that it might have some connection with the bloodstain on the ground.
    “Come here,” the first guy ordered Gigi.
    “Go fuck yourself,” she replied, as gutsy as ever.
    “Whoa! I’m gonna enjoy this even more