Read Online Shadowfires by Dean Koontz - Free Book Online Page A

them around for a
moment before sweeping them away.
    “Rachael?” Benny persisted.
    A shabbily dressed derelict stood at the corner, only a few feet
away. He was filthy, unshaven, and drunk. His nose was gnarled and
hideous, half eaten away by melanoma. In his left hand he held a wine
bottle imperfectly concealed in a paper bag. In his grubby right paw
he gripped a broken alarm clock-no glass covering the face of it, the
minute hand missing-as if he thought he possessed a great treasure.
He stooped down, peered in at her. His eyes were fevered, blasted.
    Ignoring the derelict, Benny said,
“Don't withdraw from me, Rachael. What's wrong? Tell me. I can
help.”
    “I don't want to get you involved,” she said.
    “I'm already involved.”
    “No. Right now you don't know anything. And I really think that's
best.”
    “You promised-”
    The traffic light changed, and she tramped the accelerator so
suddenly that Benny was thrown against his seat belt and cut off in
mid-sentence.
    Behind them, the drunk with the clock shouted: “ I'm Father Time!”
    Rachael said, “Listen, Benny, I'll take you back to my place so you can get your car.”
    “Like hell.”
    “Please let me handle this myself.”
    “Handle what? What's going on?”
    “Benny, don't interrogate me. Just please don't do that. I've got a lot to think about, a lot to do…”
    “Sounds like you're going somewhere else tonight.”
    “It doesn't concern you,” she said.
    “Where are you going?”
    “There're things I've got to… check out. Never mind.”
    Getting angry now, he said, “You going to shoot someone?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Then why're you packing a gun?”
    She didn't answer.
    He said, “You got a permit for a concealed weapon?”
    She shook her head. “A permit, but just for home use.”
    He glanced behind to see if anyone was near them, then leaned over
from his seat, grabbed the steering wheel, and jerked it hard to the
right.
    The car whipped around with a screech of tires, and she hit the
brakes, and they slid sideways six or eight yards, and when she tried
to straighten the wheel he grabbed it again, and she shouted at him
to stop it, and he let go of the wheel, which spun through her hands
for a moment, but then she was firmly in control once more, pulled to
the curb, stopped, looked at him, said, “What are you-crazy?”
    “Just angry.”
    “Let it be,” she said, staring out at the street.
    “I want to help you.”
    “You can't.”
    “Try me. Where do you have to go?”
    She sighed. “Just to Eric's place.”
    “His house? In Villa Park? Why?”
    “I can't tell you.”
    “After his house, where?”
    “Geneplan. His office.”
    “Why?”
    “I can't tell you that, either.”
    “Why not?”
    “Benny, it's dangerous. It could get violent.”
    “So what the fuck am I-porcelain? Crystal? Shit, woman, do you
think I'm going to fly into a million goddamn pieces at the tap of a goddamn finger?”
    She looked at him. The amber glow of the streetlamp came through
only her half of the windshield, leaving him in darkness, but his
eyes shone in the shadows. She said, “My God, you're furious. I've
never heard you use that kind of language before.”
    He said, “Rachael, do we have something or not? I think we have
something. Special, I mean.”
    “Yes.”
    “You really think so?”
    “You know I do.”
    “Then you can't freeze me out of this. You can't keep me from
helping you when you need help. Not if we're to go on from here.”
    She looked at him, feeling very tender toward him, wanting more
than anything to bring him into her confidence, to have him as her
ally, but involving him would be a rotten thing to do. He was right
now thinking what kind of trouble she might be in, his mind churning
furiously, listing possibilities, but nothing he could imagine would
be half as dangerous as the truth. If he knew the truth, he might not
be so eager to help, but she dared not tell him.
    He said, “I mean, you know
I'm a pretty old-fashioned guy. Not very with it by most