it on they had another thing coming. He was prepared for just about anything: a fight, confrontation with somebody strung out on dope, a bunch of frightened, drunken teenagers.
The one thing he wasn’t prepared for was to see the door of the Mustang burst open and an attractive young woman come staggering out. She saw him and instead of offering an apology or trying to run away, she took a step toward him and started screaming at the top of her lungs.
An attack he could have coped with. An injury from within the car he could have coped with. The one thing he wasn’t ready to deal with was a wild cry for help. He stopped in his tracks.
A man followed her out of the car and locked his arms around her. They started scrambling around, kind of wrestling and yet not quite fighting. Heinmuller stared at them and they both stared back.
“Help me, please!” the woman was shouting.
“I send greetings!” the guy yelled, with equal intensity. He smiled even as he continued to tussle with the woman who, Heinmuller noted absently, wasn’t bad looking at all.
The near collision and the damage to his precious van temporarily shoved to the back of his thoughts by this new situation, he stood watching them while trying to decide what to do next.
“What the hell’s going on here?” he finally asked them. “What’s with you two?” The last thing he wanted to do was insert himself into the middle of some serious domestic quarrel.
“I’m being kidnapped!” the woman insisted.
“Greetings!” said her companion again.
Heinmuller frowned. They were fighting, that was for sure, but not as husband and wife. But the guy neither looked nor acted like a kidnapper. Something mighty cockeyed was happening here and he wasn’t sure he wanted any part of it.
But if she was telling the truth . . .
He raised the lug wrench and started toward them, keeping his eyes fixed on the man. He was still wary of both of them. This might be some kind of scam, a show designed to lull his suspicions so they could steal his van. But the more he watched the woman struggle the less he thought that was the case.
“Let her go, pal, or I’ll give you greetings,” he finally said.
As he drew near, the man reached into a pocket of his windbreaker. Heinmuller dropped to a cautionary crouch, but the guy didn’t have a gun. It was only some kind of ball bearing or something. As soon as he saw that his would-be opponent wasn’t armed he resumed his advance. The man held the hand holding the gray sphere out toward him.
“All right, buddy, you asked for it. I told you to let go of her.” Heinmuller decided to hit the guy on the arm. That ought to make him loosen his grasp.
The man’s fingers contracted, breaking the gray sphere he held. There was an explosive crackle. It sounded like a power transformer blowing up. A bright ball of light formed around the man’s fist.
“Hey—ouch!” Heinmuller flung the wrench away as though it had bit him. Suddenly it was glowing a bright, cherry red. Behind him a forty-foot pine exploded like a torch. Both tree and wrench had been in a straight line with the man’s fist, but Heinmuller didn’t make the connection. His gaze traveled from his hand to the roaring blaze behind him to the now white-hot lug wrench. As he stared at it the steel dissolved into tiny metal balls of evaporating metal which sizzled and vanished into the air like spit on a hot stove. Seconds later there was only steaming earth where the wrench had been lying.
Heinmuller gaped at the spot for another moment, to convince himself that he hadn’t imagined it, then turned and ran like hell for his van. Jenny slumped as the badly frightened young man burned rubber as he disappeared down the highway.
Her captor helped her back onto her feet. His gentle touch even while fighting to keep her under control was just one more addition to the mass of contradictions that he was composed of. She didn’t scream anymore. There was no one around to
The one thing he wasn’t prepared for was to see the door of the Mustang burst open and an attractive young woman come staggering out. She saw him and instead of offering an apology or trying to run away, she took a step toward him and started screaming at the top of her lungs.
An attack he could have coped with. An injury from within the car he could have coped with. The one thing he wasn’t ready to deal with was a wild cry for help. He stopped in his tracks.
A man followed her out of the car and locked his arms around her. They started scrambling around, kind of wrestling and yet not quite fighting. Heinmuller stared at them and they both stared back.
“Help me, please!” the woman was shouting.
“I send greetings!” the guy yelled, with equal intensity. He smiled even as he continued to tussle with the woman who, Heinmuller noted absently, wasn’t bad looking at all.
The near collision and the damage to his precious van temporarily shoved to the back of his thoughts by this new situation, he stood watching them while trying to decide what to do next.
“What the hell’s going on here?” he finally asked them. “What’s with you two?” The last thing he wanted to do was insert himself into the middle of some serious domestic quarrel.
“I’m being kidnapped!” the woman insisted.
“Greetings!” said her companion again.
Heinmuller frowned. They were fighting, that was for sure, but not as husband and wife. But the guy neither looked nor acted like a kidnapper. Something mighty cockeyed was happening here and he wasn’t sure he wanted any part of it.
But if she was telling the truth . . .
He raised the lug wrench and started toward them, keeping his eyes fixed on the man. He was still wary of both of them. This might be some kind of scam, a show designed to lull his suspicions so they could steal his van. But the more he watched the woman struggle the less he thought that was the case.
“Let her go, pal, or I’ll give you greetings,” he finally said.
As he drew near, the man reached into a pocket of his windbreaker. Heinmuller dropped to a cautionary crouch, but the guy didn’t have a gun. It was only some kind of ball bearing or something. As soon as he saw that his would-be opponent wasn’t armed he resumed his advance. The man held the hand holding the gray sphere out toward him.
“All right, buddy, you asked for it. I told you to let go of her.” Heinmuller decided to hit the guy on the arm. That ought to make him loosen his grasp.
The man’s fingers contracted, breaking the gray sphere he held. There was an explosive crackle. It sounded like a power transformer blowing up. A bright ball of light formed around the man’s fist.
“Hey—ouch!” Heinmuller flung the wrench away as though it had bit him. Suddenly it was glowing a bright, cherry red. Behind him a forty-foot pine exploded like a torch. Both tree and wrench had been in a straight line with the man’s fist, but Heinmuller didn’t make the connection. His gaze traveled from his hand to the roaring blaze behind him to the now white-hot lug wrench. As he stared at it the steel dissolved into tiny metal balls of evaporating metal which sizzled and vanished into the air like spit on a hot stove. Seconds later there was only steaming earth where the wrench had been lying.
Heinmuller gaped at the spot for another moment, to convince himself that he hadn’t imagined it, then turned and ran like hell for his van. Jenny slumped as the badly frightened young man burned rubber as he disappeared down the highway.
Her captor helped her back onto her feet. His gentle touch even while fighting to keep her under control was just one more addition to the mass of contradictions that he was composed of. She didn’t scream anymore. There was no one around to
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