Bones of the Rain by Russ Hall

Author:Russ Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Texas Hill Country, Austin Music Scene, Kerrville Folk Festival
Publisher: Russ Hall
Published: 2014-09-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

He leaped out of the shadow, and probably would have grabbed me if I had taken the time to zip up. I spun and raced down the alley. The whip through the air a baseball bat makes when it narrowly misses sounded close behind me as motivation as I whooshed down the dark alley. I ran through the gravel and broken glass, spun around a light pole at the corner and shot up toward the bigger street where there were a few more lights. Suddenly, between me and the lights, four guys popped out and stood in front of me. I heard the pounding clomp of boots near me from behind.

I skidded and darted left—straight, as it turned out, toward a fellow I’d seen before: Donnie. He stood beside two other bulky fellows, one who wore biker’s black leather and had long dark hair. The other had white tape around his head and a cast on one leg: he waved a crutch at me—had to be Alvin. There sure seemed to be a lot of them up at this advanced hour. I spun and started back the other direction so quickly I ran right under the arms of the fellow with the wet boot who was swinging the bat.

The alley I ran down had no lights to welcome me. Many boots crunched behind me now as the whole militia jogging class kicked into high-gear pursuit. I huffed and felt an alarming pain settling into my chest. There was no time to slow down and baby the stitch or I would be feeling far more pain. I picked up my pace and squeezed more speed out of myself. I bought a little distance, but had no confidence that it was going to any more than tease fate. These guys were younger and in much better shape than me. The only advantage I had was that they had to have been sucking up beers all night.

Parked cars and the backs of dark houses were along one side of me. To my left was another long building. When I came to its end, I churned my tired feet in a wide arc as I turned the corner and almost ran into the back of a dark van. Its doors swung wide. Arms reached out and yanked me up off my feet and inside. I sailed and landed with an ungraceful thud; the doors slammed shut behind me. Tires squealed and the van surged away—all this with lights out.

I rolled onto my back and began to struggle to my feet, but one of the men in black held a foot on my chest. “Stay low,” he commanded. I could make out the silhouette of his black ball cap. I lay panting like a fish just pulled from the water as the van zoomed up the alley and slid out onto a street, picking up speed. The headlights came on.

The inside walls of the van held equipment. I couldn’t make out what kind yet in the dark, but the picture began to come together.

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