The Second Detective MEGAPACK® by Rufus King & Fletcher Flora & Bryce Walton & Johnston McCulley & Thomas B. Dewey

Author:Rufus King & Fletcher Flora & Bryce Walton & Johnston McCulley & Thomas B. Dewey [King, Rufus]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: mystery, detective, noir, pulp, crime
ISBN: 9781479408153
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2016-01-22T16:00:00+00:00

A rasping voice pounded into his ears.

“I got away from you once before, Sanders—by hooking up on a freight. That memory of yours told you I’d try it again, so you come down here. You did wrong this time, copper. Your memory walked you right into the morgue.”

Sanders tried to struggle, to shake the constricting fingers from his throat. But the wound in his forehead was hammering, sending him slowly into a black, helpless void. He still clutched his gun. If he could—

But his torn shoulder was numb; his arm could not lift the automatic. The fingers were meeting around his throat. He went limp, helpless, felt himself being dragged over the ground, over blunt ridges of steel.

For a moment things were sickeningly black. Then a thundering roar filled his ears, seemed momentarily to clear his head. Red and green lights flickered over his body. Weakly he raised his head, had a fleeting glimpse of a tall, thin figure disappearing into the night. His gun wobbled up, fired once, twice.

The incessant roar pounded his temples, filled his ears with a metallic ring. Dully he wondered what it was. His eyes caught the red-and-green flickering. The locomotive… He shifted his head weakly, saw—as from a great distance—his body lying sprawled across the glistening rail. The engine was backing down, toward him, gathering speed, so that the impact of the freight cars would couple it with them.

He tried to squirm, to crawl. He managed to get clear of the track except for one leg. One more effort. His weakened body refused to respond, he sagged among the cinders, gasping. The engine roared over him, jammed with a loud screech against the foremost freight car.

Dully he looked down at his leg.

The tip of his shoe rested not more than an inch from the rail. That last sagging sprawl had carried it across. A shudder ran through him as he realized how close the grinding wheels of the locomotive had come to it.

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