Edward Llewellyn by Prelude to Chaos

Author:Prelude to Chaos
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-07-21T16:00:00+00:00

XI

The road ended abruptly at the bridge. The spans were intact but the roadway had been taken up; the planks for a makeshift replacement were piled on the far side. I skidded my Slada to a halt and grabbed my CB. “Hold it!”

“Why?” Judith’s signal was too strong. She should be way astern.

“There’s a bridge down. Stay where you are and let me scout.” The wrecked cars we had passed during our journey north had been warnings that bandits were now a hazard on back roads. Since leaving the highway at Standish I had insisted on riding point. For the last few kilometers we had been following a dirt road winding along beside a creek with the deep woods of Maine on each side of us and the tang of the sea ahead.

“The Settlement’s only a little way beyond the bridge. I’m coming up!”

It was no good my telling her once again to stay where she was. I searched the creek and the woods as I heard her bike rounding the bend. When she pulled up beside me there was a flicker of movement among the trees. I muttered, “We’re being watched.”

“Good!” She took off her helmet, shook out her Titian hair, and smiled at the woods and the stream.

“Someone’s watching the bridge.” I saw the movement again. “Up there—by those beech trees.”

“Doctor Grenfell!” A girl’s voice came from the far bank. I did not see her until she broke cover, slipping from the bushes less than fifty meters from us. A slim youngster in a dark-blue jersey and jeans who came jumping from stone to stone across the creek, golden hair flying.

“Barbara!” Judith put her bike on its side-stand and ran to meet her. “Barbara Bernard!” They kissed, then Judith held the girl at arm’s length, smiling down at her. “You’ve grown so! I hardly recognized you.”

“You look older too, Doctor.” She was returning Judith’s smile, humor and affection in her voice. “We thought you were dead.”

“You can see I’m not.” Judith put her arm around the girl and brought her over to me. “This is Barbara, an old friend of mine. Barbara, meet Mister Gavin—a new friend.”

I took her hand with that benign courtesy men of my age and type use as a defense against teenage girls. Her fingers were slim, her grip was firm. Everything about her was firm from the set of her mouth and chin to the way she stood, from the assurance with which she had greeted Judith to the way she studied me. I put her age at a young seventeen, but her gray eyes mirrored confidence and experience. I was both fascinated and warned.

“Barb!” A boy had stepped from behind the beech trees. “Who are they? What shall I call in?” Glancing up I was startled to see he was hefting a rifle. We had been covered as well as watched.

“Say that Doctor Grenfell’s here. That she has a man with her.” She looked at Judith’s Yama. “When Ruth radioed that a woman biker was heading this way I should have known it must be you.

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