Heroes by David Hagberg (reading cloud ebooks TXT) 📗

They careened around the back of the falling-down barn, and Schey stood on the brake, the Chevy slewing to the left and finally sliding to a halt.

He jumped out of the car and hurried back to the corner of the barn.

Below, on the highway, the lights raced past the dirt road and continued, their tires whining on the asphalt, their red taillights visible for a long way in the night.

Schey hurried back to the car.

“Are they gone?” Eva asked fearfully.

“They’re past,” Schey said. He spun the car around and raced down the dirt track, back to the highway.

They drove another five miles to U.S. 85, which led south to Albuquerque and north to Santa Fe. It was only ten or twelve miles down to Albuquerque, but nearly forty miles back up to Santa Fe. The FBI agents had come from the north. There would be others. Certainly, when they finished at the ranch, they’d head back to Santa Fe. It was not the direction to go.

A truck passed, heading south. Schey turned south and headed after it.

“Where are we going?” Eva asked.

A car passed them, going in the opposite direction, its headlights momentarily illuminating the interior of their car.

“To Albuquerque,” Schey said absently. He reached up and twisted the rearview mirror back so that he could see.

“They’ll find us there,” she said, panicky. “They’ll know this car. We’ll be arrested. Christ, they’ll hang us.” She grabbed his arm.

Schey pulled away from her. “They have to catch us first.

And they won’t do that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Schey had been going on nervous energy now for hours. He snapped at her. “I’m bloody well not sure, god damnit! But I’m not going to lie on the side of the road, crying my eyes out, waiting for them to come get me!”

“Oh sure … you can say that. You’ve got somewhere to go.

You’ve got yourself a god damned cause. What the hell do I have?”

“You’ve got me! If I’m not good enough for you, then the hell with it!”

They had been shouting. Eva choked off her next words as she gazed at him in wonder. Another car passed, going the opposite way, and it made her face seem white, her eyes very large and very dark.

“You operated in Washington right under the nose of an FBI agent. You didn’t fall apart then. If you’re coming with me now, you’re going to have to hold yourself together.”

She nodded. “Do you mean that, Bobby? That I’m coming with you?”

“It’s up to you,” he said. “But I’m not going to beg you. It’s not going to be easy getting out of here, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be a piece of cake back home.”

“I don’t care. I’ll go anywhere you say. I love you. Don’t you know that? Haven’t you got that figured out yet, you big ape?”

Schey had to laugh, not so much at the colloquial English, but at the situation. It was very likely they would never get out of the New Mexican desert alive, and he was worrying about how difficult it would be for them in Germany with the war ending and all. Eternal optimism, or just plain stupidity? He wondered.

“If that’s funny, then I’ve been way off all along,” she said peevishly.

Schey glanced over at her. He was smiling. He could not help himself.

“Jesus,” she said, looking away momentarily. “Jesus H. Our backs are against the wall, and you’re grinning like a coon eating shit.”

Schey laughed out loud. His stomach convulsed, which struck him even funnier, and he laughed harder.

“Bobby?” Eva shouted alarmed.

He couldn’t stop. It was nearly impossible to see the highway through the tears in his eyes and even harder to control the car.

A part of him understood that there was absolutely nothing humorous about their situation, and yet it felt good to let go now that the immediate crisis was past. He could not remember the last time he had laughed.

Eva finally laughed, then looked away, her right hand to her mouth. She was fighting it, but at last she too succumbed, and she began to laugh very hard, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The highway ran straight as a ruler down out of the high plateau on which Santa Fe was located, to the desert flats where Albuquerque sprawled. The temperature rose at least ten degrees within as many miles, and as they came into the city, the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad line was off to their right.

The speed limit changed from 65 down to 45 and finally to 30 as they came into the city.

Ahead, and far off to the right, Schey spotted a railroad depot.

A passenger train had pulled in. They came to the access road, and the sign said: HAHN STATION: A. T.&S. F.

They drove down the road, coming into the station’s parking lot. The depot itself was nothing more than a long, low wooden structure. A dozen cars and two trucks were parked in front.

Schey drove around to the far end of the uneven row and parked well in front of the largest truck so that the Chevy would not be so noticeable from the highway.

“We can’t take a train from here,” Eva said. “What’s the matter with you? They’ll spot the car, and then they’ll have us.”

Schey got out, and making sure no one was watching, threw the keys across the tracks well out into the brush.

Eva got out of the car. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Schey reached in the back seat and grabbed their bags. “We’re V* c- ‘ ^r y Mr. and Mrs. Veltman. Karl and Elizabeth. Our car broke down.

We’re trying to get to Denver. We both have jobs waiting for us.”

He shut the door, handed one of the bags to Eva, and started across the graveled parking lot back to the dirt road that led out to the highway. Eva bounced after him. She wore a white blouse, long black skirt, and low tie shoes with medium heels.