Read Online The Forever Man: A Near-Future Thriller by Pierre Ouellette - Free Book Online Page B

will have no answer. None at all.
    He can turn his head just far enough to make out an inverted image of the highway. Any farther, and his cervical vertebrae register a sharp pain. Headlights come into view and the night is filled with the snap of small rocks as a pair of big vans rolls to a stop up on the shoulder. A door opens on the far side of the rear one and the bouncing beam of a flashlight comes around and descends the embankment. In the moonlight, he can now make out the faint figure of a man behind the light.
    And even through the shock of his injuries and befuddlement, something strikes him as odd. The man should be yelling toward the flipped vehicle, asking if anyone is in there, if anyone is hurt. Instead, the man advances in silence, his boots pushing little poofs of moonlit dust.
    By the time the man reaches the wreck, Frank’s humiliation has turned to fear. This is not right. The dark outline of a muscular figure descends to a squat about a yard away from the truck. The beam of a flashlight probes the cab and settles briefly on Frank’s face.
    “You see a white utility van out here tonight?” The voice of Zed’s security man is hard and pitiless.
    Frank stares at the figure. Nobody’s ever pushed him around. Nobody’s going to start, now. His dignity is all he’s got left. He remains silent and motionless.
    The figure thrusts the light out at arm’s length, so it’s closer to Frank. “I know you can talk. I saw your eyes move. Let’s make a deal. You answer me, and I’ll get you out of there.”
    Franks looks away from the light.
    The figure sniffs the air. “Hey, you smell anything funny? I sure do. Smells like gasoline around here.”
    Frank tries desperately to move, to gain some semblance of control. But he’s hopelessly wedged.
    “You look a little squirmy to me. Maybe you’re trying to tell me something, huh?”
    The figure backs off a few feet, takes out a cigarette, and lights it. “Saw a man burn up once. Only it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t an accident. You don’t die right away, you know. He just screamed and screamed.”
    Frank can’t help himself. “I didn’t see nothin’!” he blurts out. “I don’t remember nothin’!”
    “Now, that’s better,” the figure says. “That’s much better.”
    Then he flicks the cigarette into the cab, where it sails past Frank’s face, lands on the ceiling, and comes to a stop by the shattered dome light.
    “Let me go,” Frank pleads in a weak voice.
    The figure rises. “You’re already gone.”
    The security man is halfway up the embankment when the truck explodes. No screams come from the burning wreck. The old driver is lucky. The explosion itself must have got him. The contractor recalls a similar incident in Yemen, during the third incursion.
    He continues his climb and reaches the shoulder of the highway, where Arjun Khan stares at the blaze. “Was that him?” Arjun asks.
    “Negative.”
    “I didn’t think so. Keep me apprised.”
    “Roger that.”
    The contractor moves off to the rear van, while Arjun turns to the lead vehicle. He opens the door, where Zed sits in the semidarkness.
    “That wasn’t him,” Arjun says.
    Zed seems not to notice. “I’m cold. It’s the start of fall. It’s beginning to get chilly at night.”
    Arjun winces inside. The old man is drifting, his focus temporarily gone. It’s happening more often as of late. “I’m sorry about that. Is there anything we can do to make you a little more comfortable?”
    “Take me out by the fire.”
    “What?”
    “You heard me. I want to go out by the fire. So I can warm up.”
    “I’m not sure if that’s advisable. We haven’t secured the area. And there’s always the danger of a secondary explosion.”
    “I don’t want to argue. I want to warm up. Let’s go.”
    The light from the flames dances in faded peach over Zed’s convoluted skin. The old man gets up very slowly and comes to the door, where Arjun helps him step down onto the