No Trespassing

By Roald Peterson III

In the near future, while running from his past, John stumbles onto a cave containing a WWII era soldier's skeleton clutching an advanced device with unknown capabilities. Soon he meets a mysterious woman with a link to the device, and a powerful government director who is desperate to find it, but what is its purpose, and who can he trust?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roald Peterson III
• Release date: May 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311676665

Roald Peterson III

Roald E.Peterson III has loved reading books of all kinds since a very young age. He especially enjoys reading classic science-fiction, and is particularly inspired by the works of Keith Laumer. He lives with his wife and three children.

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No Trespassing

By Roald E. Peterson III

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright © 2016 by Roald E. Peterson III

Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/LaLimaDesign

For Tiffany

Chapter 1

No Trespassing, the sign said; not that I had many options right now.

Dust clouds spread out from the pursuing cars on the hillside below. I watched them for a brief moment and then turned back to the dirt road, climbed the rusty gate, and kept moving. The road continued up the side of the mountain, winding through the rocks and pines. I almost missed the small trail that led to the side and quickly vanished into the trees.

The occupants of the cars behind me probably wouldn't slow down much for the gate. That might work to my advantage if they were in such a hurry to find me that they missed the side trail. They were very eager to discuss some recent actions of mine; actions that I didn't regret, but also didn't feel like explaining to them. Especially not in person.

The already softening evening sunlight was further obscured by the trees that were now thickly surrounding me, and I wondered briefly how cold it would get tonight. About a quarter mile down the trail, it faded out into a path only distinguishable from the ground around it by having somewhat fewer trees.

The path continued on, wandering further and further into the tall dark outlines of the pines. Then I caught a glimpse of something that broke up the thin angular pattern of the trees; a shorter and wider outline, like a building. Moving closer, I could see that it was a log cabin, someone's retreat from life's troubles up here in the woods. The path I was on led up to a door on the front side.

The logs weren't just a facade or front for effect. The cabin was actually made out of logs someone had chopped down themselves, notched, and then stacked together. The door was shut, and slightly out of line with the door frame. At my touch it opened with a rusty squeal onto a dark interior and I stepped inside.

The remnants of twilight glowed through a broken window, painting the opposite wall a dim red, like a condemned man's last sunset. What I could see of the inside showed dust and dirt, a few pieces of broken home-made furniture, and an empty shelf attached to the far wall.

I searched the shelf, found nothing but dead moths. There was a distant sound. I held still, listening. The wooden floor creaked slightly, and then I could hear the faint growl of car engines, faint but getting closer. I glanced around the room again, still saw nothing useful. I stepped over to the window, and looked out past the jagged edges of glass at the dying light. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I could see a small glimmer of headlights further back in the trees.

The floor beneath me creaked again, then suddenly made a damp cracking sound and I was falling in the dark. I managed to get my feet under me and turned a probable broken leg into a shuddering jolt through my ankles and calves as I slammed into the ground, rolled, and lay there, breathing hard. Despite my evening adjusted eyesight, it was completely black all around me.

I sat up. Looking up, far above, I could make out a patch of slightly lighter gray against a ragged black outline of broken and rotting fragments of wood. The air around me was cold and damp on my skin. I fumbled in my pocket, got out my lighter, and lit it. The tiny flame dimly revealed a rough stone hollow with a low ceiling. I seemed to be inside a natural cave of some kind. Something to the left caught my eye and I turned to face it.

A skull with shadowy sockets stared back at me and I recoiled involuntarily, dropping the lighter, plunging the room back into blackness. Taking a deep breath and mentally berating myself for scaring so easily, I steadied myself, and then knelt down in the dark and felt around for the lighter.

I found it, re-lit it and looked again at my new friend. This time I took in more detail. It was a full skeleton, yellowed with age. It was dressed in the crumbling remnants of an old-fashioned military uniform; probably World War II, if I'd had to guess, which I did since the wearer wasn't being very forthcoming. The left leg was twisted awkwardly underneath the rest of the bones and badly broken in two places.

Something glinted dully in its right hand, reflecting the wan glow of my lighter. I bent down for a closer look. The top joint of the ring finger was missing. Through the gaps in between the finger bones I could see what looked like a dull metal rectangle. I carefully opened the hand and examined what was inside more closely. It was dark gray, slightly pitted, and tarnished looking. The edges were smooth and rounded, at odds with the weathered look of the rest of it. I gingerly picked it up, and then dropped it in surprise. It had been warm to the touch. Well, no, not warm exactly, but only slightly cool, and not cold like it should have been, despite the stony chill all around me.

I reached down and picked it up again, feeling the almost-warmth in my fingertips. Other than the unexplainable lack of cold there was nothing particularly significant about it. I looked back at the skeleton. What was a WWII soldier doing up here in the mountains, with this odd piece of metal, and how did he end up dead down here?

The fall that broke his leg could have trapped him, leaving him unable to get out of here, and indirectly caused his death, but...

I looked at the bones more closely, brushing aside some of the pieces of uniform. Underneath the body, almost buried in dust and dirt, were two flattened lead slugs, probably .45s. That explained his presence here better than the broken leg, but I still had plenty of questions.

However, I had more immediate problems, like not taking up permanent residence with the previous occupant. I slid the rectangle into a pocket and looked around, taking stock of my surroundings now for the first time.

I was in a rocky cavity with no apparent exits except the shaft which I had fallen down. I looked up again, straining to see in the dimness. The walls of the shaft near the bottom that I could make out were rough and uneven. They vanished into the dark above, finally meeting the hole in the floor about 30 feet straight up.

Maybe I could brace myself against the walls and go up, like a rock climber. I briefly considered holding the lighter in my teeth, then decided that a tough climb with no light was better than likely burning my face and falling into the dark, again.

I stood up, took a last look at my surroundings, and let the lighter die. I tensed, picturing where the walls of the shaft had been, and then jumped. At the peak I quickly shoved my back against the wall behind me and braced my feet on the wall in front. The sharp edges of rock jabbed painfully into my back and I winced, but held myself steady while I scrabbled with my hands behind myself for purchase.

I moved one foot back to the rear wall and placed it. In theory, the next part was easy.

While I braced with the foot in front, I pushed myself up with the one behind until my leg was fully extended. Then, while holding myself there with my back, I moved that foot to the front, brought the other one back up against the wall, and pushed up again. Alternating like this, I started blindly sliding my way up the black shaft in a series of small pushes.

This was about as fun and easy as it sounds, and several minutes later I stopped, propped both feet in front, and awkwardly rested as well as I could, considering my position. I glanced up at the hole above, now only barely discernible in the dimming light. I was about half way up, getting very tired, and my back was feeling raw and swollen. Unfortunately, even though resting involved pushing my abused back into the rough wall, the alternative of dropping back into the darkness was worse.

It wasn't even the fall I was worried about so much, but the thought of having to start my climb all over again seemed unbearable. Even if my back hadn't been throbbing, I was feeling close to exhausted and knew if I fell I'd have to rest for a while before making another attempt. I looked up again, took a deep breath, and continued my ascent.

Finally, after what seemed like a much longer second half, with muscles weak and limbs shaking, I neared the top. I couldn't see much of the cabin or walls, but I thought I could see the faint pinpoints of stars through what must have been the broken window.

As I started the final few pushes to get myself up to the hole's edge, I saw a brief moving light and flickering shadows on the wall coming from the window which slowed, stopped, and then disappeared. My admirers must have come as far down the trail as the size of their vehicles would allow.

I heard a squeal of branches scraping metal, and then the cracking sound of splintering wood. Maybe slightly farther than they would allow. They were certainly in a hurry to have their little chat with me.

I carefully reached for an edge of the broken wooden hole and then pushed up again with my leg. I gently shifted my weight onto my hands at the edges, not really trusting my exhausted muscles or the splintered wood to hold me. I pushed myself up with my arms, slowly moving my legs up the shaft, and the wood near the edges gave a warning creak. I managed to lean over and get my elbows on the edge, kicking at the shaft's wall behind me, trying to get my center of gravity over the solid part of the floor.

Giving a last convulsive kick, I got my upper half over the edge of the floor, and slumped there, resting for a moment. As I lay there I heard a car door slam shut, and then another. Several dim lights played on the wall through the window, then vanished. I made an effort and pulled first one knee, and then the other, up onto the edge and stood up, swaying only slightly.

The lights outside briefly shined through the window again, faded, and then suddenly came back and held steady, lighting up the opposite wall.

I froze, listening. The lights jostled slightly as though the owner were walking over rough ground. I glanced quickly around the cabin again, searching for something to hide behind, and found nothing except the pieces of broken furniture. They might have been big enough to hide a medium sized dog, but they certainly wouldn't hide me. At least, not unless the people looking for me decided to close their eyes so it wasn't too easy.

I flicked my eyes back to the door. It was the only entrance or exit, barring the window with the broken glass. I could see light coming through the gaps between the door and the frame, now. It was getting steadily brighter. I looked back to the window. While there were some gaps in the shards of glass protruding in from the edges, I was still going to get fairly cut up going through, not to mention making a decent amount of racket. Besides, anyone coming out of the window was going to be very visible to people approaching the door.

Frantically, I looked around the room again for something to have changed, something to save me.

Nothing...

My gaze fell on the hole at my feet, then back on the broken furniture. I started quickly picking up broken pieces, bringing them over, and placing them quietly next to the hole's edge.

I could hear them now, muffled footsteps on the soft ground, with the occasional snap of a twig or scuff of shoe against a stone. I took a quick breath, trying to calm myself, and then lowered myself partially back into the hole, bracing against the sides. I started grabbing pieces of furniture with one hand and pulling them over the hole, trying to quietly arrange them in a pile that looked natural, but not too interesting.

With only a few pieces left, and most of the hole concealed, I descended enough that my head was a few inches below the edge of the broken flooring, then started covering the last visible bit of the hole with the remaining fragments of furniture.

John! The jig is up.

That sounded like Larry, doing his best impression of a patient and reasonable man. It wasn't a very good one. I waited, awkwardly wedged against the walls of the shaft.

C'mon Johnny, we know you're in there. We followed you this far, we're not going to just turn around and walk away. Make it easy on yourself and come on out. We just want to talk about that last job, John.

What was there to talk about? They had wanted the job to finish one way, and I, despite promises that it would, had very deliberately ensured that it did not. Somehow I sensed that upon reaching that point in the conversation things would get less polite.

Awright, John, a hoarse voice rasped, you got 20 seconds to come out, or we're comin' in.

And there was Lou, sounding like an impatient and unreasonable man, with no impression needed. A little surprising that he came along in person, but apparently there was enough on the line to warrant his special brand of diplomacy.

I'm already in a bad mood. You know what I'm like when I'm in a bad mood, John. Havin' to come in and get you is only gonna make that worse.

A short pause.

OK, boys, he doesn't come out of there in 10 seconds, you bring him out here. As long as he can talk, I don't care about the details.

There was a brief silence. My muscles were starting to cramp. The very short rest I'd had after the long climb hadn't been nearly enough. I waited, listening. I heard multiple footsteps coming toward the door, careless at first, then slowing down and becoming more hesitant as they reached it. Through a small gap in the broken wood covering me, I watched the door, waiting.

Whattaya waitin' for, get in there!

Sure boss, only what if he shoots the first guy in?

Then it'll be your lucky day, Freddy, 'cause that's better than what I'm going to do to you if you don't get in there!

Apparently this laid to rest any concerns Freddy had, because then I saw the front door slowly creak open. A gun cautiously came around the corner, followed by the sleeve of a cheap looking suit.

Suddenly, a thin man with hastily slicked-back hair jumped around the edge of the door.

Hah! he said, pointing the gun and a flashlight and grinning. His face fell, and he stood there a moment, apparently waiting for me to jump out of the shadows at him. He scowled. My arms were shaking slightly now, straining to keep me from falling back down the shaft. He kept the gun pointed toward the back of the room while he played the flashlight over the walls and floor. He flicked the light briefly over the shelves, and then stopped at my hiding spot.

I froze. I should be out of sight, and the chances of seeing me through a tiny gap in the pieces of wood, in this lighting, were small...at least, I hoped they were. He walked slowly over towards the pile of wooden debris. I heard the floor creaking and was suddenly very aware of the dark hole under me, how deep it was.

I tried to think small, hard-to-see thoughts. He reached the pile and nudged it with his shoe, frowning. I tensed, got ready to lunge, waiting for the sudden yell of triumph and the sight of a big black gun barrel aimed at me.

He pointed the light around the cabin, glancing at the walls and shelves again, still frowning. My arms were now shaking heavily, and I struggled to keep my body wedged against the shaft walls, not daring to shift to a potentially easier or more restful position. I could hear him breathing quietly, and see his shoes not two feet from my face.

He shifted position, possibly looking out the window, then grunted, walked back to the door, and opened it.

He's not in here, boss, and if he was, he took off before we got here, he growled.

You sure?

Yeah, there's not really anywhere for him to be hiding in here.

OK, fan out boys, he couldn't have gotten very far in the last few minutes.

I took it as a small compliment that Lou sounded more angry than surprised at my apparent disappearance. Freddy stepped out and let the door close behind him. I waited a minute for the group to disperse. I wanted to wait longer, but I was barely able to hold myself there as it was. It would seem pretty silly to fall down the hole and break my neck after hanging in there for so long.

I carefully and none-too-steadily reached out with one hand, pushing away some of the pieces of wood, and got a firm grip. I cautiously shifted weight to that hand, trying to straighten my cramped and protesting leg muscles. I pushed myself out far enough that I could get my knees on the edge. I couldn't help falling forward onto my hands, but managed to soften the impact enough so that it didn't make much more than a muffled thump.

I turned to watch the door, but if someone had come in, there wasn't really anything I could have done about it. I spent the next minute or two just lying there, breathing heavily, waiting for my stiff and burning muscles to stop twitching involuntarily.

Nobody had come through the door yet, but I couldn't count on my luck to hold out forever. I hurriedly pushed the wooden pieces back over to cover the hole, and then stumbled over to the door and carefully opened it a crack. It was almost fully night, now, and the outside was about as dark as it was inside the cabin. If anyone was outside, watching, I had to hope that they couldn't see me any better than I could see them. I opened the door a bit further, and half crouched, waiting for any sounds of alarm.

Nothing happened. I opened it further, and stepped out slowly. I felt very exposed in the open like this, but I didn't really have any other options. As I let the door close behind me, it creaked loudly, and I heard a voice about twenty feet ahead and slightly to the right of me.

Hey! Who's there?

It's me, I replied, trying to sound irritable; always a good answer.

I started quietly working my way off to the side of the voice.

Whaddya mean 'it's me'? Hey Freddy, is that you?

Uh, yeah, of course it is. Who else would it be? I said, trying to roughen and lower my voice a bit. I was now fifteen feet to this guy's left and I could see him as a vaguely darker shape on the rest of the dark forest background.

You sound kinda funny. You feelin' OK?

Just my allergies actin' up again, you know?

Allergies? Wait a minute...

A flashlight suddenly flicked on, quickly swung over and shined in my direction.

You ain't Freddy! said the figure, reaching for his hip. I charged the last few remaining feet to him and hit him square in the chest, knocking him to the ground. I staggered to my feet, dazed. He lay there, struggling to catch his breath, and making scrabbling motions toward the gun at his waist. I leaned over, grabbed the gun, and then drove a right to his jaw. He sagged, breathing softly.

I glanced at the gun. It was a traditional mid-caliber gunpowder-based slug-thrower. A bit old-fashioned, compared to some of the newer energy-based models coming onto the market, but still did a pretty fair job of putting holes in people all the same. I pocketed it and the flashlight, which I turned off, and looked around.

I could see a few moving lights spread out several hundred feet into the trees, presumably Lou’s men trying to find me. Off the other way, in the general direction of the road, I could see some headlights. If most of them were out looking for me, then there couldn’t be too many keeping an eye on the cars.

I headed off in that direction, trying to move quietly in the dark. I had to move slowly without a light, watching for trees, stumbling over rocks and roots. I didn’t know how long it would be until they found my pal who had lent me his gun, but I didn’t want to be around when it happened.

After a few more minutes, I was close enough to be able to see a bit of the cars behind the headlights, but the glare prevented me from seeing if anyone was inside or not. I moved around and tried approaching from the side, hoping for a better look.

There were four cars, two in the front with headlights on and two with them turned off in the back, all sitting in a natural clearing in the trees. There were a couple of heavies standing around by the doors of the front two cars, guns in hand, looking bored.

I knelt down and searched the ground around me, found a medium-sized stick with some weight to it. Maybe I could distract them for a minute. A thrown stick wasn't the most brilliant ploy, but on the other hand, Lou didn't usually hire primarily based on intellectual endowment. I hefted the stick, ready to throw...Well, it worked on tri-D shows, anyway.

I threw the stick, watched it arc into the darkness and disappear. I waited, and a second later heard a light crashing sound from the undergrowth. Both of the gun-handlers straightened up, looking around alertly. They weren't deaf, in any case. One murmured something to the other, who nodded, and they split up. One headed in the general direction of where the stick had landed, and the other headed the opposite way, right towards me.

Apparently this wasn't a tri-D show. Maybe Lou had shaken up his hiring habits, but in any case, I now had a very attentive and not particularly distracted looking guy coming right at me. I ducked behind a nearby tree and tried to think of a way out of this.

I did have a gun, but I wasn't really the cold-blooded killing type, although if it came down to it... I shook my head. Even if I gunned him down, his partner wasn't too far in the other direction, and the rest of Lou's squad would hear it and be here on the run in no time.

I crouched behind the tree, waiting, as I heard his footsteps come closer. I saw him walk past the tree, and stepped in behind him, bringing a fist down, aiming at the back of his neck. I must have made some noise because he turned toward me at the last second, and my blow caught him on the side of the head instead. His gun fell and he dropped to all fours, breathing hard. I took off running towards the cars, no longer being careful about the noise.

Behind me I heard a voice yelling. I dashed over to the nearest car in the back. It was an older-model Tercetti. The door was unlocked and the keys were in the ignition. OK, so maybe a few things were like a tri-D show. I heard running footsteps crashing through the woods from the direction of the stick-chaser.

I checked the readouts on the console. They showed a 1/3 charge; good enough. I flipped the main switch, heard a quiet hum as the engine soaked up power. I switched to reverse, backing up and turning around. As I did so, I saw the guy who had gone after the stick emerge from the trees into the clearing, yelling and gesturing at me. No, not at me, at someone behind me. I turned around in time to see the other guy I had clobbered drawing a shaky bead on me.

As I ducked low in the seat I heard the gun fire and saw a hole appear in the windshield in front of me. Shaky or not, I was beginning to see why Lou might have hired him after all. I wrenched the wheel all the way over, slipped it into forward drive, and jammed my foot on the accelerator. The quiet hum of the engine deepened into a low throbbing and the car surged ahead. I saw three more holes appear in the windshield, heard and felt several more impact the body of the car.

I felt a glancing blow on the side of the car, bounced high in the air as it drove over a root or rock, shook as I caromed off another tree. I braked hard, risked a quick peek behind me, and saw the lights of the two men further back. Judging from the bouncing motion of the lights, they were coming my way fast.

I turned around to the front and saw all of the trees around me. I wasn't on the path, and I was lucky I had only bounced off the side of a couple of them so far in my blind escape, and not rammed one of them outright. However, I didn't feel like pressing my luck any further than I had to.

I tried to mentally orient myself. The path out of the clearing had been behind me and to the left when I got into the car... I turned the car to where I thought the path would be, and started forward again, slowly, weaving between the trees.

I could see the flashlights in my mirror getting closer, and so I sped up, going as fast as I dared, bouncing along, dodging the trees, curving sharply back and forth as I picked my way through the trunks. The problem was that I was too big in this vehicle to handle trees this dense, and they were much more maneuverable on foot. Two more slugs hit the back of the car, and I slid further down into my seat, staying just high enough to be able to see and steer around the trees.

And there was the path! The trees thinned out and I pulled onto the narrow trail. It was still very rough going, but at least I could travel in a more or less straight line, and at higher speed. I sped up a bit and watched my pursuers' lights start to drop further and further back.

After continuing on the trail for another few minutes I met up with the main road. The No Trespassing sign and gate had been knocked to one side. I opened up the throttle, trying to put some distance between me and Lou's gang. I wasn't in the clear, but I was out of immediate danger, and it would take them a little bit to gather all the spread out searchers back to the cars, so I had a good few minutes head start on them. Hopefully that would be enough, especially with the charge on the battery... I glanced at the console.

It read a 1/4 charge. Wait, that couldn't be right. I was sure it had been at 1/3 when I got in, and while the Tercetti wasn't the most economical vehicle out there, there was no way I had gone from 1/3 to 1/4 charge in the last five minutes. Maybe the battery was having problems. Unfortunately, this wasn't really a good time for me to be working on my automotive technician skills. I needed to keep driving, and I would just have to keep a close eye on the charge level.

Chapter 2

After another five minutes, I knew I was in real trouble. The charge level was still decreasing rapidly; it was now at 20%. The city was probably a little less than an hour drive from here, but the way things were going, I wasn't going to make it. Not even close.

My head start wasn't going to help much if I wasted it fiddling with the car on the side of the road. On the other hand, it looked like if I didn't do something pretty quick, I was going to be on the side of the road soon in any case.

I decided to chance it. I was near the base of the mountain, with a lot of scrub grass and trees in hilly terrain. I slowed the car and pulled off to the side of the road into a depression partially concealed by some stunted looking trees. It wasn't much, but I'd take what I could get.

I got out of the car and went around to the side charging panel. I flipped it open, shining the flashlight inside. There was nothing shorting the leads, no visible damage; in short, everything looked OK. Maybe the readout itself was messed up, somehow? I walked over to the maintenance access hatch and after a little coaxing, popped it open.

It was pretty dirty inside, but everything seemed as it should. I knelt down with the light so I could compare the battery's built-in charge meter with what the console inside the car was showing. It showed about 20%, just like the console. I leaned in closer, just to make sure. As I did so, I saw the charge meter visibly start dropping: 15%...12%... I leaned back, startled.

What was going on? Batteries didn't just discharge like that by themselves. The power had to be going somewhere. I looked back at the charge meter. It was at about 11%, and dropping almost imperceptibly. Of course, it shouldn't be dropping at all with everything turned off, but just a few seconds ago it had been draining right before my eyes. What happened? I looked at the meter carefully. As I started to lean in, the meter started dropping again. 10%...9%... I leaned back. 8%....now a little under 8%...slightly more under... Still going down when it shouldn't, but nothing compared to the drain rate when I was closer to it. When I was closer to it?

If I was shorting it out somehow, I sure wasn't feeling anything. And how would I be shorting it without actually touching it, without even having anything especially conductive on me...well, let's see, I had the flashlight; conductive, sure, but able to short circuit the battery or drain energy from several feet away? Also my lighter, the gun, same stories there, that weird rectangle... I stopped. Suddenly, I very much wanted another look at that metal rectangle I had found.

Standing up, I took the rectangle out of my pocket, examining it again. It still felt cool, which was a little odd, since it had been in my pocket for a while, now, and I was still warmed up from my recent exertions.. Some of what I thought had been the tarnished and pitted surface had flaked away, revealing smooth patches that resembled the rounded edges and corners.

I glanced at the charge meter: 7%. Curious, now, I held the rectangle up near the battery. There was a slight hum as the meter flickered...and read 0%.

I shut the hatch, at a loss for words, and pondered my next move. Actually, there weren't a lot of choices at this point. They were likely to be here in the next five minutes or less. I could hang around here and hope they decided to be good sports and let me go, or I could try to make a go of it on foot.

I heard a muted tone. I looked down. A small spot on the rectangle was emitting a subdued glow. The glow brightened a bit and I heard the tone again, then it dimmed once more. I stared at it. Again, the soft tone sounded and was accompanied by a brightening and dimming of the glowing spot.

Hesitantly, I put my finger out, and then stopped. Maybe it was a bomb, or a trap of some kind. Then again, it didn't look like any bomb I'd ever seen. Again the tone sounded. Deciding, I gently pressed the spot. I got ready to throw the rectangle if it started ticking or smoking, but nothing happened. Then a lower pitched bong sounded. There was a quiet whirring and I almost dropped it as through some trick of hidden seams and junctures the rectangle unfolded into a larger, flatter, thinner sheet, about the size of a piece of notebook paper.

The surface shimmered and then darkened, like a display screen. A short brown bar appeared in the lower left of the display. Strange ideograms faded into visibility, slowly scrolled upwards, and then melted away, only to replaced with more. It seemed to be some sort of computer although its purpose, or what the symbols meant, was a mystery. Suddenly, the flow of script was interrupted by a harsh buzzing. The symbols vanished, though the bar remained, and the buzzing sounded again. A chaotic mixture of lines and curves appeared on the screen, twisting, and then settled into place. A cool blue dot lit up in the center of the screen, pulsing slowly.

As I moved slightly, the whole configuration shifted marginally. I turned to the right, and the lines rotated in turn. A map? As I looked more closely at the lines, they seemed familiar. I remembered some of the foot hills I'd seen on the way up, and realized that the lines sketched out a sort of isometric topographical depiction of the surrounding area, around five miles square. The screen buzzed again, and a brown trefoil appeared, perhaps four miles away from the central blue dot. Inside the trefoil were three brown dots which vibrated and jittered like pebbles on an engine block. I watched as they slowly moved towards the blue dot in the center.

I looked up to where they would be, and could see tiny headlights in the distance. It looked like Lou hadn't wasted any time in trying to catch up with me. I ran back to the front door and opened it. I quickly searched the vehicle and came up with a first generation low-yield energy stunner pistol, almost empty, a couple of spare energy cells for the stunner, a half-eaten candy bar, a few old magazines, several surprisingly fresh, crisp hundred-cee bills in the glove compartment, a thin, dirty looking jacket, and a discarded plastic bag wedged between the seats. The rectangle continued to buzz periodically.

I stuffed my findings in the bag, barring the cash, which I pocketed, and the jacket, which I put on. Its previous owner hadn't been much of a believer in bathing, or hygiene in general, from the looks and smell of it, but it was better than being cold. Looking up, I could see the headlights not more than three miles away now. I didn't have much time to make myself scarce, and I still didn't really have much of a plan other than not being around by the time they got here.

I looked out at the foothills, then down at the map, picked a heading, and started off. I kept the flashlight off, since I'd be pretty visible to them with it on as close as they were now. If I was lucky, they'd miss the Tercetti half-hidden in the trees and keep on going, trying to narrow the gap that was presumably keeping me so far in front of them that they still couldn't see the car's