Read Online The Austin Job by David Mark Brown - Free Book Online Page A

under her collar. “I feel so dry.”
    He gripped her by the wrist, afraid she’d tumble face first. “Ms. Lloyd, your pulse.” The moisture had gone from her skin, way too hot to the touch. “Ma’am, you’ve got heatstroke.”
    “Nonsense. In 60 degree heat? I—” she pitched forward, causing Starr to cradle her. For as tall as she was, he marveled at her slightness.
    “I don’t mean to be bull-headed, ma’am, but I’ve seen plenty of heatstroke in the cotton fields, and this is that. We’ve gotta get you cooled down.” Careful of her flowing evening gown, he continued toward the gala, now with Austin’s most powerful woman cradled in his arms.
    “I must protest,” she huffed, “much too,” panting between every word, “undignified.”
    “Undignified or not—” a tortured scream worse than a rabbit in the jaws of a coyote interrupted him as chaos descended over the Capitol lawn. “What in God’s name?”
    At the opposite end of the outdoor gathering, a human tongue of flame burst from a scattering clump of guests before stretching its arms toward the evening sky. Blue plumes of fire shot from its thighs and stomach, arching the person impossibly backwards. In a final quake, the flames pulsed outward in every direction until, with a whoof , the charred remains tumbled to the scorched grass.
    Silence blanketed the scene for a single, sick second. Then the paralyzing spell of terror broke, scattering the crowd like ripples in a pond. Starr clutched Gwendolyn tighter and bolted toward the refreshments. Shouts punctuated the spreading darkness. Then came the flames.
    One after another, fountains of flame burst from the crowd amidst horrible screams. Starr swallowed his own bile, focusing on the life he held in his arms, the pulse of which thumped against his chest like a hummingbird hammer. At a labored sprint he punched a hole through the edge of the panicked crowd, cutting cross-grain toward the ice chests while stumbling through the surging river of humanity.
    His gimpy knee struggled with the extra weight, threatening to buckle. The rising swell of sounds and smells reminded him strikingly of the rodeo arena during the singular moment of being thrown. The moment that as a rider, you lock onto the one thing that will bring you through.
    Daisy . He scanned the faces as they poured past, until a burning man charged him blindly. Diving clear, he tucked his shoulder and struck the ground hard, lightning extending from stem to stern. Still cradling the nearly unconscious Ms. Lloyd, he crashed into the leg of an icebox, bringing the insulated tin container down on both of them.
    As the ice scattered across the grass causing a human pile-up, Starr caught glimpse of familiar faces. “Daisy! Sheriff!” Flipping over another icebox, Starr created an oasis in the midst of the human stampede. Daisy strained under the weight of her six-foot-four father whose face had turned redder than her dress.
    Starr hoisted the sheriff off of her, flopping him down next to Ms. Lloyd and propping the two of them up against the overturned iceboxes. Finally all four of them were sheltered within the cool, moist air created by the ice and evening breeze.
    He squeezed Daisy and pulled her close. “Sheriff, what the hell’s happening?”
    “Attack,” he grunted in between labored breaths. “Has to be Oleg.”
    “But how?” Starr searched their surroundings for clues. An increasing number of people were passing out before they could flee—hitting the ground with dull thuds.
    “I don’t know.” The color in Lickter’s face improved gradually. “Poison?”
    Daisy grabbed Starr by the wrist, “James.” She pointed with her expression, having seen what he’d missed—a single man walking calmly toward them, unlabored amidst the anarchy. “He’s holding something.”
    “An umbrella?” Encased in shadow, the man’s silhouette slowly raised the tip of a parasol until it pointed straight at them. With a sinking stomach