Read Online Suspect Zero by Richard Kadrey - Free Book Online

Chapter 1
    T he rain that had pissed down all afternoon turned cold when the sun set, and it kept getting colder all night.
    The boy waited on a corner among the nearly deserted warehouses. He waved at a passing eighteen-wheeler and it slowed to a halt, pulling over at the corner. The cab was taller than the boy expected. He had to climb up a couple of chrome steps to get inside. The drizzle made the metal slick and he slipped and almost fell, but the truck was warm and dry when he made it inside. The boy shivered and wrapped his arms around his old navy peacoat, trying to get warm, careful to keep his hand away from the pocket where he’d hidden the knife. For now, it was nice just to be out of the rain.
    “What’s your name, son?” asked the driver.
    “Gabriel.”
    “Like the angel,” said the driver as they pulled away.
    “I guess. Supposed to be for an old relative. He was a general in the Civil War.”
    “I never heard of him.”
    “He didn’t last long. I don’t think he was much good.”
    The driver scanned the road ahead. Turned left, prowling the wet potholed streets. Water rolled down the gutters, miniature rapids.
    The boy looked at the driver. He was wearing a heavy plaid hunting jacket. It made it hard to tell how big the guy was. His face was thin and covered with a couple of days’ worth of gray stubble. His lank hair was pulled into a ponytail and held back with a grimy red Peterbilt baseball cap. A plastic eyeball tacked to the truck’s dashboard swung back and forth like a pendulum ticking out the time.
    “What do you do, Gabriel?”
    “Mostly travel these days. I move around a lot.”
    The driver nodded.
    “Some people are farmers and some are nomads. I’m a nomad. The Akkadians and Sumerians, they were nomads. They settled down, built up the first civilizations. The Mongols and Huns were nomads. They came along later and kicked those civilizations down.” The driver laughed. “It’s a good life for the right kind of people. Are you the right people, Gabriel?”
    “I sure as hell am tonight. Anything that’ll get me out of the rain,” he said, hugging himself tighter, feeling the reassuring press of the knife against his leg.
    The driver grinned.
    “Don’t sell yourself short, son. I have a feeling you’re more than that.”
    “How can you tell?”
    “I’ve been around for a while. You can’t help but learn to read people.”
    “What’s your name?” asked Gabriel.
    The driver hunched his shoulders and peered out the windshield, straining to read street signs through the rain-streaked glass.
    “Damn it. I know you’re around here somewheres.”
    Gabriel didn’t talk while the driver hunted for the destination. As he grew warmer, Gabriel relaxed.
    The driver asked, “You know, I just realized I’m so wrapped up in these streets I never asked where you’re headed.”
    “Far as you can take me, sir. Anywhere that’s drier than here.”
    “Good answer. I could use a little company. I’m heading out of town tonight, but I’ve got part of a load left and work to do. Hope you don’t mind a few stops along the way.”
    “No, sir.
    “And if you get bored or what you see looks interesting, jump on in. But no pressure. Good work is its own reward, but you being the right kind of people probably already know that.”
    “I suppose. Yeah.” He didn’t know what else to say. What was with the “right kind of people” thing? Had he let something slip? Did the old man know what he was there for? This time he let his hand brush the hilt of the knife, the one thing he still had from home.
    “Grab me a pop out of that cooler by your feet, will you?” said the driver.
    Gabriel leaned down to where a red-and-white plastic picnic cooler rested on the floor. It was the kind where the lid swiveled back on a hinge and the top opened like a trapdoor. When he popped open the top a plastic-wrapped .45 automatic fell out onto the floor.
    “I was wondering where that’d got to.