Read Online Short Cut to Santa Fe by Medora Sale - Free Book Online Page A

“Did you bring a flashlight with you? For some reason, I neglected to pack my full kit, not realizing that we were going to be roughing it in the bush, New Mexico style.”
    â€œDon’t be snotty,” said Harriet. “Of course I have a flashlight. Two flashlights, actually. You want the big one?” As she began to open the door, John leaned over and closed it again.
    â€œI wouldn’t climb out on your side without checking the terrain,” he said. “Let me get the flashlight. Where is it?”
    â€œIn the red knapsack, on top,” said Harriet. She peered out through the open window into the darkness to her left.
    At that point the lights that had been gleaming softly inside the bus went out. And the remaining headlight. A huge pillow of smothering darkness descended on the scene.
    Harriet stared out the side window, trying to adjust her vision to the dark. It became more and more obvious that there was no warm reddish earth beside her, with its contrasting humps of brush and weed. The van had stopped perilously close to the edge, beyond which there lay only the impenetrable blackness of nothing. She undid her seat belt and moved carefully over to the other door.
    â€œAre you awake back there?” she asked.
    â€œYes,” said a tentative voice. “Are we lost?”
    â€œMore like slightly off course,” said Harriet cheerfully. “Nothing serious. I have a pile of maps in here and all that. But the bus seems to have gotten stuck up there. Why don’t you curl up and go to sleep? I’ll move that cooler out of your way. We’re going up to see if we can help at all.”
    There was a heavy, frantic pause. “We’d rather come with you,” said Stuart. “It’s not that we’re scared to stay alone or anything, but we’d rather come with you.”
    â€œSure,” said Harriet. “Come along. Get out this side of the van. The other side leads to a steepish hill. John? Where did you get to?” she asked.
    A light flashed on and off, close to the front fender of the van. “Over here,” said John. His voice was loud in the silence.
    â€œWe’re coming with you,” said Harriet. “Why aren’t you using the flashlight?”
    â€œBatteries are low. Anyway, wouldn’t it be better if you . . .” He stopped. The memory of a hundred quarrels on the subject of his overprotective nature sprang unbidden into his brain and he shook his head. It didn’t look as if the bus was badly damaged, but if there had been injuries, Harriet’s skilled hands and clear head would be very useful. And they couldn’t leave the kids behind to be scared out of their wits. “Okay. Let’s go.”
    They padded quietly along, using their feet to keep them on the track, turning on the flashlight only to check from time to time. When they reached the dark hulk of the bus, they followed it along the right-hand side, up to the front door. “I wonder where they hide the latches on these little things. I’m more used to standard-sized municipal buses,” said John, running his hand along the side of the door.
    Suddenly the door swung open and lights glowed on each side of the steps. They afforded just enough illumination to make it clear to John and Harriet that they were facing, not a grateful survivor of a bus crash, but a semiautomatic weapon that wavered uncertainly between them. “Back off,” said a voice that sounded very local. “And git the hell outta here.”
    â€œYou can’t let ’em go, Wayne,” said another voice in the darkness. It sounded almost bored.
    â€œWhy not, Gary?”
    â€œBecause if they’re the ones who’ve been following us . . .”
    â€œOh, yeah. Inside,” said Wayne. “Right now. Both of you. And turn that fucking light off. The kids, too. In you get.”
    The first intimation that something had gone wrong with