Gideon's Corpse by Preston Douglas; Child Lincoln

Author:Preston, Douglas; Child, Lincoln
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Hachette Book Group
Published: 2012-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

38

THE WILDERNESS ENDED and Los Alamos began as if someone had drawn a line, the trees suddenly giving way to a typical suburban neighborhood with ranch houses, postage-stamp lawns, play sets and kiddie pools, blacktopped driveways sporting station wagons and mini vans.

From the cover of the fringe of trees, Gideon stared across a dark lawn at one mini van in particular, an old 2000-model Astro. It was eleven o’clock at night, but the house was still dark. Nobody was home. In fact, as he looked around, he noted that almost all the houses were dark; an air of desertion, even desuetude, hung over the place.

“This is making me nervous,” said Alida.

“There’s nobody here. Looks like they’ve all left.”

He walked boldly across the lawn, Alida following a few steps behind. They gained the side of the house and he turned back to her. “Wait here a moment.”

There was no sign of a burglar alarm, and it was the work of two minutes—and long experience—to slip inside and assure himself the house was empty. Finding the master bedroom, he helped himself to a crisp new shirt that almost fit. He combed his hair in the bathroom, then grabbed some fruit and some sodas from the kitchen and went back to where Alida was waiting.

“I hope you’re not too nervous to eat,” he said, handing her an apple and a Coke. She bit ravenously into the apple.

Rising from a crouch, Gideon walked to the breezeway and got into the car. The keys were not in the ignition or the center console. He got out, opened the hood.

“What are you doing?” Alida mumbled through the apple.

“Hot-wiring it.”

“Jesus. Is this another one of your little ‘skills’?”

He closed the hood, got back in the driver’s seat, started dismantling the steering column with a screwdriver he’d found in the glove compartment. A few moments later everything was ready, and with a cough the car started up.

“This is crazy. They’re going to shoot us on sight.”

“Get down on the floor and cover yourself with that blanket.”

Alida got into the backseat and lowered herself out of sight. Without another word, Gideon backed out of the driveway and drove down the street. He soon found himself on Oppenheimer Drive, heading past Trinity, on his way to the Tech Area main gate. The town was deserted, but even this late in the evening, with a nuclear threat hanging over the country, work proceeded at Los Alamos. As they approached the gate, Gideon made out the brilliant sodium lights, the two armed guards in their pillboxes, the cement barriers, the always-friendly security officer.

There was a car ahead of them being checked through. Gideon slowed, stopped, waited. He hoped the guard wouldn’t look at him too closely—his shirt was clean, of course, but his pants were a muddy mess. His heart was pounding like mad in his chest. He told himself that there was no reason for the FBI to publicize his name; no reason to notify Los Alamos security, considering that was the last place he’d go; and every reason to keep his identity secret while they hunted him down.

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