sullen. Hayden maneuvered the vehicle so that its headlight
illuminated as much of the other as possible, parking about twenty feet away.
He looked over and found the other two staring at him intently, probingly. He
flashed them a hard scowl.
"You two stay
here. I'm going to take a look." Hayden didn't wait for a reply or
argument. And from the looks on their faces, they understood. He zipped up
his parka and donned a face mask, then pulled the hood of his coat over his
head. Lastly, he grabbed the large flashlight off of the seat next to him and
opened his door.
A blast of Arctic
air rushed in and nearly pulled the door from his grasp like a living thing
trying to open the door for him. Its cold bit through his clothing in places
and he could feel it on his skin. He stepped down and slammed his door shut
against the protest of the northern current. Hayden knew that it was damned
cold out here and he couldn't stay out for long. He turned on the light in his
left hand and began to walk quickly towards the Jeep.
As he reached the
overturned vehicle, it had the image of a dinosaur that had died and fallen,
becoming a part of the land around it. It eventually became the tank of gas he
had put in his truck this morning. The blowing snow had begun to form drifts
against the hood and top, covering over any traces of blood that Nick had said
he'd seen. There was, however, the frozen rivulets if blood on the hood. And
their position was consistent with what Nick had surmised in his recounting of
the story.
Hayden looked down
and saw the tuft of hair and scalp caught on the jag of glass. It wavered
frenzied and maniacal in the gusts assailing it. His breath caught in his
throat for a moment, and then he took a deep breath that made his lungs ache.
He stepped closer to see onto the side of the vehicle, now facing up, to get a
look at the driver side door area. Its hinges were twisted and bent and jagged
pieces of metal were all that remained of the door. He shone his light to the
latch and could see a bright reflection from the recently scored metal
surface. Its catch mechanism was pulled and bent outward, a bit of cloth
snagged and torn on it waved like a flag in a warm summer breeze.
It did indeed look
like the door had been ripped off its hinges. He scanned the field around him
with the flashlight but could see nothing. Shadows and lumps and
irregularities in the surface were completely incomprehensible in the
flashlight beam. He looked at the door frame again and slowly shook his head.
This not only didn't look good, it looked very, very bad.
Hayden bent down
into a crouch and peered into the Jeep. It was a shambles. He looked down at
the passenger door window and saw the pool of blood already coated with frost.
His stomach turned once, partly in revulsion to the entire scene, partly in
dread. As he turned to move away from it his light flashed off something and
he caught a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye. He jerked back to locate
the brief glimmer, and then found it.
The closer he
looked the more he saw. Mixed in with the fragmented glass were spent
casings. He'd almost missed them, he wasn't prepared for them. He reached
into the opened window frame and picked one out of the rubble. He turned it
over in his gloved hand and decided that it was a 9mm shell. He held it up to
his face mask and breathed deeply. The frigid air burned his nostrils, but
there was the strong acrid scent of gunpowder on the brass object. This had
been fired very recently, he decided.
This excited
Hayden momentarily. Almost with enthusiasm, he sifted through the broken glass
and came up with thirteen more. He searched harder still, determined. Then,
behind the passenger seat and lodged in the jumble of skis and other equipment,
he found the gun. He immediately saw that the slide was opened, indicating
that it had been fired until it was emptied. As he held
illuminated as much of the other as possible, parking about twenty feet away.
He looked over and found the other two staring at him intently, probingly. He
flashed them a hard scowl.
"You two stay
here. I'm going to take a look." Hayden didn't wait for a reply or
argument. And from the looks on their faces, they understood. He zipped up
his parka and donned a face mask, then pulled the hood of his coat over his
head. Lastly, he grabbed the large flashlight off of the seat next to him and
opened his door.
A blast of Arctic
air rushed in and nearly pulled the door from his grasp like a living thing
trying to open the door for him. Its cold bit through his clothing in places
and he could feel it on his skin. He stepped down and slammed his door shut
against the protest of the northern current. Hayden knew that it was damned
cold out here and he couldn't stay out for long. He turned on the light in his
left hand and began to walk quickly towards the Jeep.
As he reached the
overturned vehicle, it had the image of a dinosaur that had died and fallen,
becoming a part of the land around it. It eventually became the tank of gas he
had put in his truck this morning. The blowing snow had begun to form drifts
against the hood and top, covering over any traces of blood that Nick had said
he'd seen. There was, however, the frozen rivulets if blood on the hood. And
their position was consistent with what Nick had surmised in his recounting of
the story.
Hayden looked down
and saw the tuft of hair and scalp caught on the jag of glass. It wavered
frenzied and maniacal in the gusts assailing it. His breath caught in his
throat for a moment, and then he took a deep breath that made his lungs ache.
He stepped closer to see onto the side of the vehicle, now facing up, to get a
look at the driver side door area. Its hinges were twisted and bent and jagged
pieces of metal were all that remained of the door. He shone his light to the
latch and could see a bright reflection from the recently scored metal
surface. Its catch mechanism was pulled and bent outward, a bit of cloth
snagged and torn on it waved like a flag in a warm summer breeze.
It did indeed look
like the door had been ripped off its hinges. He scanned the field around him
with the flashlight but could see nothing. Shadows and lumps and
irregularities in the surface were completely incomprehensible in the
flashlight beam. He looked at the door frame again and slowly shook his head.
This not only didn't look good, it looked very, very bad.
Hayden bent down
into a crouch and peered into the Jeep. It was a shambles. He looked down at
the passenger door window and saw the pool of blood already coated with frost.
His stomach turned once, partly in revulsion to the entire scene, partly in
dread. As he turned to move away from it his light flashed off something and
he caught a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye. He jerked back to locate
the brief glimmer, and then found it.
The closer he
looked the more he saw. Mixed in with the fragmented glass were spent
casings. He'd almost missed them, he wasn't prepared for them. He reached
into the opened window frame and picked one out of the rubble. He turned it
over in his gloved hand and decided that it was a 9mm shell. He held it up to
his face mask and breathed deeply. The frigid air burned his nostrils, but
there was the strong acrid scent of gunpowder on the brass object. This had
been fired very recently, he decided.
This excited
Hayden momentarily. Almost with enthusiasm, he sifted through the broken glass
and came up with thirteen more. He searched harder still, determined. Then,
behind the passenger seat and lodged in the jumble of skis and other equipment,
he found the gun. He immediately saw that the slide was opened, indicating
that it had been fired until it was emptied. As he held
Similar Books
