Read Online The Final Trade by Joe Hart - Free Book Online Page A

She can see Eli nodding in the front seat. The man in the hat tips his head back and laughs. He fingers his rifle and begins walking toward the Suburban.
    “Steady,” Merrill says again.
    The man comes even with the driver’s side and stops. He’s taller than Zoey originally thought, more powerfully built. Two deep lines engrave either side of his mouth, either from laughing or scowling. Wispy blond hair hangs down to his shoulders from beneath the hat. Zoey dips her head enough to obscure her face.
    “Evening,” he says. “Name’s Ken.”
    “Merrill. Nice to meet you, Ken.”
    “Where you guys coming in from?”
    “Washington. Our camp ran out of food about a week ago, so we headed east hoping to find something better,” Merrill says.
    “Benny says you’re unarmed. That right?”
    “Yes sir. Well, we do have one rifle for hunting. Actually had some luck yesterday and shot a mulie. Plenty of it left and we’d be happy to share it.”
    “I understand one of you is a doctor?” Ken asks.
    “That’s right.”
    “Which one is he?”
    “Up in the Jeep there, in the back. His name’s Terry.”
    “We could really use a doctor’s expertise, to be honest.”
    “Well then maybe we can strike a deal. Terry helps you and we rest up for a while here. Get our bearings.”
    “That sounds good to me. Just one more thing. You in the passenger seat there, you’re making me awful nervous the way I can’t see your other hand. Like you to show it to me,” Ken says.
    Zoey blinks, keeping her face averted.
    Her fingers tighten on the gun.
    She turns her head in Merrill’s direction.
    “Oh, he’s a little shy. It’s okay, Steve, show him your hand,” Merrill says. His closest hand points to her, index finger out, thumb up.
    Like a gun.
    Zoey brings the H&K up, pointing it directly into Ken’s face. The skin around his sunglasses goes slack as Merrill whips up his own weapon, shoving it beneath Ken’s jaw.
    The men surrounding the vehicles begin yelling but no shots are fired. Out of the corner of her eye she sees barrels appearing in the Jeep’s windows.
    “Don’t move,” Merrill says.
    “Sonofabitch,” Ken says. “Not you, Merrill, if that’s your real name. I’m speaking about my good friend Benny up there. I knew I should’ve put a bullet behind his ear the first time I saw him. Well, regardless, I guess we have some things to talk about here.”
    “Yes, we do,” Merrill says. “Unclip your rifle and drop it on the ground. Tell your men to do the same.”
    “Can’t do that, amigo. I said we’ll talk and see where it gets us.” Merrill pushes his handgun farther into Ken’s neck. “Okay, I’ll start. You—” But Ken pauses as he looks directly at Zoey, really seeing her for the first time. She stares back at him over the sights of her gun. Ken smiles. “You’re in a bad position here. See, you may have gotten the drop on us with old Benny’s help but I have a guardian angel in the nest behind me, and right now he has his crosshairs dialed in directly on your face. Wouldn’t be a problem for him to put a bullet through your eye.”
    “I’m sure it wouldn’t, but then you die at the same time.”
    “Let’s be honest, in all likelihood we’d all die or, at the very least, get wounded. So how about we start over. You hand us your guns and we’ll get you something to eat and we can speak in a civilized manner over some dinner.”
    “We both know that won’t happen.”
    “No. No it probably won’t,” Ken says, sighing. “I knew today was going to be complete shit. It’s a Monday. Did you know that?”
    “Should we waste them, Ken?” the closest man yells. Zoey glances around the clearing, wondering who to fire at first. She glances up at the tower.
    The man there has his rifle trained directly on Merrill.
    “Not yet,” Ken replies. “Me and Merrill here are having a little discussion.”
    “Drop your guns,” Merrill says. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
    “Got