Blood Trade: A Sean Coleman Thriller Read Free

crazy or drunk, or whatever,” he said, “but he might
also be injured.”
    The man blew a chilly exhale from his mouth in frustration. He shook his head. The
lights from the dashboard danced across his glasses.
    “I’m going to check it out,” said Andrew. He turned his back to the driver, gripped
his cane firmly in his hand, and readied to begin a careful descent down the hill.
He had only made it a couple of steps across some snow-blanketed earth when he heard
the man behind him sternly shout.
    “Wait!”
    Andrew’s head snapped back in annoyance. “What?”
    “He’s trying to drive out of the ditch. Look!”
    Andrew’s eyes narrowed at the faint sound of tires skidding on grass and slush. He
turned his attention back to the car below and noticed its white reverse lights now
illuminated brightly. The hum of its engine could barely be heard. The wheels didn’t
sound as if they were gaining any traction as the back of the car only bobbed up
and down slightly from the motion.
    “He’s not hurt,” said the man in the van. He craned his neck to grab a better view
around Andrew of the trapped motorist.
    The car below suddenly jerked up the hill a foot or two. It didn’t get far, but it
was enough for the person inside it to step on the brakes to lock in the progress.
After a few seconds, however, the car slid begrudgingly back to its original position.
A muffled snarl of frustration came from below. It sounded like a man’s voice.
    “You see? He’s fine,” insisted the man in the van.
    Andrew sighed in relief. “I guess you’re right,” he conceded. “He sounds pissed,
not hurt.” He felt some tension leave his body. He would have made his way down the
steep hill with his cane, but he was now glad he wouldn’t have to.
    “I suppose you’re a better man than me for wanting to help,” said the man. He seemed
more at ease now, too. “That’s good. The world needs more Boy Scouts.”
    Andrew drifted back over to the window and smiled. “I was kicked out of the Scouts
when I was twelve.”
    Both men laughed.
    “So what brings you out on a school night?” asked the driver in a gamesome tone.
    “Just a late dinner in town.”
    “By yourself?”
    Andrew sighed. “That probably would have worked out better.”
    An uncomfortable muteness fell between the two, and Andrew silently scoffed at the
strangeness of the conversation.
    The flakes of snow that fell from the sky seemed as if they were growing in size.
The frosty air made Andrew raise his cupped hands to his mouth and blow into them.
He eyed his own car parked along the exit ramp as the whine of spinning tires again
ascended from the bottom of the gully.
    “There’s no sense in you hanging out here man,” said the driver. “He’s okay. And
like I said, the police are on their way. I’ll catch them up to speed.”
    Andrew took a moment to digest the man’s offer, and then nodded. “Yeah, I suppose
there’s no point in me sticking around out here in the cold.”
    No sooner did he finish his remark than he heard the unmistakable thud of a car door
closing from down at the bottom of the hill. He turned his head and saw a dark, male
figure in what appeared to be a snug white t-shirt climbing up the hill toward them.
The climber looked to be a large man with broad shoulders. Deep grunts of effort
bellowed from his mouth.
    “Ah, shit!” The van driver suddenly appeared nervous again behind the thick lenses
of his glasses. He leaned forward and began fiddling with something below his steering
wheel. A second later, the engine cranked.
    “Go!” Andrew thought he heard someone say from inside the van. It didn’t sound like
the driver’s voice.
    Andrew’s eyes widened in curiosity. “What are you doing?” he asked loudly over the
roar of the van engine.
    The driver kept facing forward on the road, ignoring Andrew’s query and his questioning
gaze. A grimace etched across the man’s teeth as he popped the transmission. Wheels
spun for just