The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(4)

“Yeah–” Jeannie glanced at her watch “–but it looks like we’re gonna beat that. Maybe I should call her.” Jeannie reached for her cell phone as Bob put his blinker on and began slowing down.

Bob Bradshaw entered the intersection of Highway 82 with Limestone Bottom Road, and his instincts said turn at the light. He glanced up ahead, saw nothing coming, and turned the wheel.

“Hello, Mom,” Jeannie said into the cell phone. “It looks like… Bob!

“Truck!” Nicole yelled from the back seat.



That motherf*cker is not going to… But the red Honda was turning. Coming out of the dip, Dewey had seen the red Honda enter the intersection. It had been going very slow, as if the driver was unsure of what he wanted to do. Now, he’s turning. The motherf*cker is turning right in front of me. Dewey hit the brakes.

“Oh, f*ck!” He was fishtailing, the trailer moving left. Come on, move it. But the red Honda was stuck in the intersection.

We’re gonna hit.



Bob Bradshaw saw the eighteen-wheeler at the same time his wife and daughter screamed. Where did that truck… He pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor, and his tires spun. NO. Jeannie undid her seat belt and lunged for the back, trying to cover Nicole. The Honda lurched forward. Please make it, Bob begged, hearing the roar of the tractor trailer. Please...





3


Rose Batson opened her eyes and tried to get up. How long have I been out? She rolled onto her side, her neck aching, and saw the trailer. It was in the field across from the station. Burning. “Ultron” was printed on its side. Ultron... Gasoline. Oh, God.

She pulled herself up, limped inside the store and grabbed the phone by the cash register.

“Jimmy, hey, this is Rose down at Texaco.” Her voice was hoarse and her words came out just above a whisper. “Got us a bad wreck. Real bad. Tractor-trailer hauling gasoline and a car. Need an ambulance...” Rose stopped to catch her breath. Her ribs hurt when she talked.

“Ms Rose, are you...”

“I’ll make it, Jimmy, but I doubt these people will.” She coughed, and the pain in her ribs made her double over. “Call an ambulance, all right? And get Lou and the fire department out here on the double. Trailer’s burning bad, and the fire may spread.”

“Will do, Ms Rose.”

Rose hung up the phone and staggered back outside. Lord, have mercy. The Honda lay on its back in a ditch about fifty yards up. It was also in flames. When they hit, the rig had taken the Honda about ten yards down 82 before the Honda spun off and began flipping. Rose saw it all, and had started running towards the wreckage. She may have taken five or six steps. Then, boom! Everything had gone black.

Trailer exploding must’ve knocked me out, she thought, eyeing the burning cylinder across the road. She rubbed her ribs, which she figured were either broken or badly bruised, and walked as fast as she could down the shoulder of Highway 82. She came to the rig first, and opened the passenger-side door.

“You all right?” she yelled into the cab. The truck driver was slumped over the steering wheel, his head bleeding badly. Rose stepped up into the cab and grabbed the man’s arm.

“Hey!” Rose yelled into the man’s ear. Nothing. Rose smelled fuel and knew the rig could blow any second. Move your ass, old woman. She wrapped her arms around the man’s midsection and pulled him towards her, dragging him to the edge of the cab. Then she looked down and sucked in her breath. This is gonna hurt. Rose planted her left foot on the bottom step and leapt backwards with all her strength, still holding the man around his waist. They landed in a pile on the ground, and Rose felt stabbing pain all over.

“Ahhh, Jesus!” she screamed, pushing the man off of her and rolling to her side. Move, woman, move. She forced herself to her feet and dragged the man’s body ten yards down the shoulder. When she thought she was far enough away, she leaned over him, her hands and arms now covered in his blood.

“Are you OK?” she screamed. “Are you–”

But her words were drowned out by another explosion. Rose looked up and saw that the rig was now in flames. The door that she had just crawled out of was gone. She could see the steering wheel melting away and then it was engulfed in a sea of orange. Ten more seconds, she thought, her hands trembling. If I had waited ten more seconds...

“Help.”

Rose turned at the sound of the voice, and saw a figure on the ground near the Honda. Rose tried to run, stumbled, then fell. Her ribs exploded in pain, but she got to her feet. Walking now, she made it to the figure – a woman – and knelt beside her.

“Ma’am, are you...”

“My baby... my baby...” She was whimpering and trying to move. Trying to crawl towards the burning car. “Please help... my baby,” she said, her eyes glazed over but focused enough to make contact with Rose’s.

“Ma’am, it’s burning. I can’t... ”

“Yes... you... can...” The woman had moved a few inches and Rose stopped her, feeling heat on her neck from the blazing car.

“No... please. My baby...”

Sirens sounded in the background and Rose turned to see Sheriff Jimmy Ballard’s patrol car coming towards them. An ambulance was behind him. Thank God.

“Please...” The woman’s voice was softer. She’s fading, Rose thought.