Eve of Redemption by Tom Mohan Page A

get one foot up between him and the corpse. With every bit of energy he could muster, he kicked the thing away. Pain flashed from his neck—the fingers that had been locked on so tight took some of his skin as they tore free. It crashed against the far wall, bounced off, and stumbled toward him once more.
    God, what do I have to do?
    To his surprise, the corpse dropped to the floor as though invisible puppet strings had been severed. In one practiced movement, Martinez scooped his gun from the floor and popped in a new clip. With trembling hands he pointed the gun at the headless body, but it showed no sign of movement. The cold was dissipating, slipping away like a ghost, leaving Martinez the distinct impression something was leaving. He gasped fresh air into his aching windpipe as he stumbled away from the lifeless corpse. His eyes darted around the room in search of any other nightmare, but the house remained quiet.
    “You all right, John?” he rasped. Only silence answered. Martinez spun around and shined the light on the chair the other man had been sitting in. It was empty, and the front door was open.
    John Burke was gone.
    Martinez heard a car door slam somewhere outside. His eyes scanned the neighborhood as he stumbled out the door. A car engine sputtered to life around the corner, and he hopped down the two steps to the sidewalk. A car pulled away from the curb on the next block and sped off. Martinez dashed to his own car. Flinging open the driver’s door, he slid behind the wheel and shoved the key into the ignition.
    The squeal of tires filled the night air as Martinez sped after the other car. Could Burke have escaped the handcuffs? No—instinct told him a second person was involved. Burke had been in no condition to escape, or even drive. He grabbed the radio to call for backup, but it was completely dead. Not even the hiss of static sounded from the speaker. What was going on tonight?
    Martinez sped through the dark, deserted streets, keeping the far-off taillights just within sight. Two blocks ahead, the car made a sharp left turn and disappeared from view. Martinez accelerated as fast as he dared and slid around the corner at the intersection. The street was deserted. He slammed one meaty hand against the steering wheel in frustration. He eyed the vehicles parked on the side of the street, but he hadn’t gotten enough of a look at the car to know what he was looking for. It could be any of these cars, or none of them.
    Martinez slammed the wheel again. He had lost them.

 

     
    B urke’s head throbbed as he slid across the backseat of the car. His dazed mind struggled to grasp what was happening. He had been in the living room of his house with Officer Martinez. That much he remembered clearly. Then something had happened. Someone else had been there, in the kitchen. He remembered the flashlight coming on, the cop picking it up and shining it toward whoever hid in the darkness. Then Martinez had moved in front of him, his massive body blocking Burke’s line of sight. There had been movement beside him, the front door opening, and a blinding flash of pain. The next thing he knew, he was being shoved into the back of a car.
    Burke rolled across the backseat as the car took a hard turn. His wrists were still locked in the handcuffs, keeping him from using his hands to brace himself. “Who’s up there?” His words slurred, and his tongue felt too big for his mouth.
    “Well, hello there, Mr. Burke. Glad to have you back with me. Hope I didn’t hit you too hard back there.” The female voice had a strong southern drawl to it. “Might want to put on your seat belt. The ride’s probably gonna be kind of rough.” The driver laughed as though she found this funny. Burke thought the seat belt would be a great idea if his hands weren’t locked behind his back. As it was, he slouched in the seat and braced his feet against the floor with his knees against the back of the seat in front of him. “You