Read Online The Dead Soul by M. William Phelps - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: M. William Phelps
Ads: Link
billions. We’ll actually be driving under Boston Harbor, Jeffrey.”
Marjorie Carmichael said, “Billion, Jay. Not billions .”
“Awesome,” said Jeffrey.
It got a bit dark as they entered the tunnel. The fluorescent lights along the corner of the roof were bright, but only if you were stopped.
Jason noticed the Harley dude had one of those barbed-wire tattoos around his bicep. How damn passé are those tats nowadays? The woman on the back of the bike had an average ass, Jason considered. There was an angel tattoo above her plumber’s crack. Jason checked her out. She was hot, he thought, in a skanky, Lucinda Williams sort of way.
Do-able, he’d tell the boys at work Monday morning.
The biker hit his brakes, illuminating the inside of the Carmichaels’ Suburban.
Jason slowed down, a squeal from the vehicle’s front rotors. “Traffic … damn-it.”
“Relax now, honey. We’re on vacation.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“This is something, Dad,” Jeffrey said from the backseat. “I can see my PSP like it’s nighttime.” Jeffrey played Super Mario Bros 3.
The line of cars, bikes, SUVs and taxis inched forward.
Jason was fixated on the little license plate strapped to the back of the Harley in front of him. He killed time memorizing it.
CVD-431. Connecticut. The Constitution State .
Sitting, frustrated by the traffic, Jason was startled by the sound of a pebble hitting the windshield.
Huh ? He watched it bounce to the ground just outside his door. It was white, like chalk.
Then another.
Weird ?
Traffic moved up about ten feet at a time. Stop and go.
Several more pebbles fell on the windshield, bounced onto the ground.
“What the heck?” Jason said to himself. He looked out the window, up at the ceiling.
Marjorie fiddled with the dial, switching radio stations, trying to find anything other than the static coming in underneath the water.
“Screw it,” she said. Then reached above and pulled down the sun visor and looked through a library of CDs.
Jason zeroed in on a section of the tunnel’s ceiling. It was loose and flapping, as if it wasn’t attached in one corner. Several pebbles fell on the windshield.
What the hell … It wasn’t registering.
A large piece of cement, about the size of a cigarette pack, fell and cracked the Carmichael’s windshield.
“What was that?” Marjorie asked in alarm, jumping back, CDs splaying all over her lap and floorboard.
Jason looked out the window, up at the ceiling again. “Oh my God.”
The tunnel erupted with an enormous boom .
Dust spread everywhere, causing blind panic. People screamed. Car alarms sounded. Chirps of tires reverberated. It had happened so quickly no one knew what was going on.
The Carmichaels, the Harley dude with his biker babe, not to mention everyone else inside the tunnel, were not going to make it to the other side on this day. A twelve-ton section of the newly opened Ted Williams Tunnel had let go. One of the steel tiebacks holding a forty-foot segment of the ceiling over the eastbound portion of the interstate had caved in onto several cars waiting in traffic.
The fallen debris had just missed flattening the biker and his girlfriend. Unfortunately, as people got out of their vehicles and converged on the maroon Suburban behind the Harley, they were horrified to see that the heaviest section of the concrete had clipped the right-hand side of the SUV and crushed Jeffrey, Marjorie, and Sergeant Bilko.
Jason Carmichael sat inside his vehicle, unable to move, shell-shocked and speechless. To his right, on the now cracked inside wall of the tunnel, was a small sign indicating the company who had worked on this particular section.
Mancini Construction.
12
Friday, September 5 - 3:45 P.M.
Jake got word that Dr. Kelsey had signed off on Lisa Marie’s body. Two blues were heading out to Cambridge to tell Lisa Marie’s parents their baby had been murdered. Jake called them off. He and Dickie were
Marjorie Carmichael said, “Billion, Jay. Not billions .”
“Awesome,” said Jeffrey.
It got a bit dark as they entered the tunnel. The fluorescent lights along the corner of the roof were bright, but only if you were stopped.
Jason noticed the Harley dude had one of those barbed-wire tattoos around his bicep. How damn passé are those tats nowadays? The woman on the back of the bike had an average ass, Jason considered. There was an angel tattoo above her plumber’s crack. Jason checked her out. She was hot, he thought, in a skanky, Lucinda Williams sort of way.
Do-able, he’d tell the boys at work Monday morning.
The biker hit his brakes, illuminating the inside of the Carmichaels’ Suburban.
Jason slowed down, a squeal from the vehicle’s front rotors. “Traffic … damn-it.”
“Relax now, honey. We’re on vacation.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“This is something, Dad,” Jeffrey said from the backseat. “I can see my PSP like it’s nighttime.” Jeffrey played Super Mario Bros 3.
The line of cars, bikes, SUVs and taxis inched forward.
Jason was fixated on the little license plate strapped to the back of the Harley in front of him. He killed time memorizing it.
CVD-431. Connecticut. The Constitution State .
Sitting, frustrated by the traffic, Jason was startled by the sound of a pebble hitting the windshield.
Huh ? He watched it bounce to the ground just outside his door. It was white, like chalk.
Then another.
Weird ?
Traffic moved up about ten feet at a time. Stop and go.
Several more pebbles fell on the windshield, bounced onto the ground.
“What the heck?” Jason said to himself. He looked out the window, up at the ceiling.
Marjorie fiddled with the dial, switching radio stations, trying to find anything other than the static coming in underneath the water.
“Screw it,” she said. Then reached above and pulled down the sun visor and looked through a library of CDs.
Jason zeroed in on a section of the tunnel’s ceiling. It was loose and flapping, as if it wasn’t attached in one corner. Several pebbles fell on the windshield.
What the hell … It wasn’t registering.
A large piece of cement, about the size of a cigarette pack, fell and cracked the Carmichael’s windshield.
“What was that?” Marjorie asked in alarm, jumping back, CDs splaying all over her lap and floorboard.
Jason looked out the window, up at the ceiling again. “Oh my God.”
The tunnel erupted with an enormous boom .
Dust spread everywhere, causing blind panic. People screamed. Car alarms sounded. Chirps of tires reverberated. It had happened so quickly no one knew what was going on.
The Carmichaels, the Harley dude with his biker babe, not to mention everyone else inside the tunnel, were not going to make it to the other side on this day. A twelve-ton section of the newly opened Ted Williams Tunnel had let go. One of the steel tiebacks holding a forty-foot segment of the ceiling over the eastbound portion of the interstate had caved in onto several cars waiting in traffic.
The fallen debris had just missed flattening the biker and his girlfriend. Unfortunately, as people got out of their vehicles and converged on the maroon Suburban behind the Harley, they were horrified to see that the heaviest section of the concrete had clipped the right-hand side of the SUV and crushed Jeffrey, Marjorie, and Sergeant Bilko.
Jason Carmichael sat inside his vehicle, unable to move, shell-shocked and speechless. To his right, on the now cracked inside wall of the tunnel, was a small sign indicating the company who had worked on this particular section.
Mancini Construction.
12
Friday, September 5 - 3:45 P.M.
Jake got word that Dr. Kelsey had signed off on Lisa Marie’s body. Two blues were heading out to Cambridge to tell Lisa Marie’s parents their baby had been murdered. Jake called them off. He and Dickie were
Similar Books
