Read The Last Town (Book 2): Preparing For The Dead for Free Online Page B

too?”
    Narvaez looked over at the paramedics with a grim expression. Rifle fire crackled in the distance, and the ROVERs Reese and Bates wore squawked as police officers reported another engagement with the dead.
    “Not right now,” Narvaez said. “But we’ll probably have to later.”

SINGLE TREE, CALIFORNIA

    T he afternoon was bright and hot when Norton and Corbett stepped out of the town hall building, and Norton slipped on his sunglasses against the glare. He looked around, and saw that North Jackson Street was the usual happening scene it always was. An elderly Mexican couple shuffled into the air-conditioned senior center next door. Across the street, a middle-aged man Norton didn’t know was hooking up a Triumph outboard fishing boat to the trailer hitch on the back of his dusty pickup. Norton watched that for a moment, intrigued that someone who lived in a desert at the foot of a mountain range would own a boat. The man had a scraggly beard and a straw cowboy hat on his head, and wore faded jeans and a clean white T-shirt. He looked toward Norton, then touched the brim of his hat. Norton nodded back, and the man went back to securing the little fiberglass boat’s trailer to his truck.
    “I guess going out on a boat is as good a response as any,” Corbett said. He waved a leathery hand about as a fly zipped around him, making miniature strafing runs at his face.
    “So what’s the plan?” Norton asked. In the distance, he heard a siren wail. Probably some out of towner cracked up his car while burning up Main Street, which doubled as a two-lane state highway that cut through the town’s center.
    “We meet back here at eight o’clock, like Max said. Then we suffer the glares and unbelieving guffaws from the resident Indignation Society when we make our pitch,” Corbett said. The older man put his hands on his hips and stretched. “Damn, all this sitting is screwing up my back.”
    Two fit-looking men stepped out of the black Ford Expedition SUV that was parked a few spaces down from Corbett’s hulking truck and Norton’s old Jeep Cherokee. Norton recognized them from the airport. Part of Corbett’s crew.
    “So who’re those guys you brought with you?” he asked. “Bodyguards?”
    “Yes, actually,” Corbett said. “They’ll be useful when the shit hits the fan.”
    “Let me ask you something?”
    Corbett looked at him, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “Yes, Norton, I did watch Khe Sanh . It was okay, except for the parts with the dink whores. I don’t know why you left them in.”
    Norton snorted. “That wasn’t it. My question is, what are you going to do if the shit doesn’t hit the fan?”
    Corbett shrugged. “Probably pay a hefty fine to Inyo County. And go ahead and put in that ILS at the airport. But do you think things are going to end up fine and well, Gary? After what you saw in Los Angeles?”
    Norton sighed. “I’d be surprised if everything worked out all right.”
    “Hope for the best, expect the worst,” Corbett said. He waved the men away, and they climbed back into the running SUV. Its air-conditioning system left a puddle of moisture that slowly oozed across the hot blacktop. Corbett reached into his pocket, and his big blue Super Duty pickup roared to life, its diesel engine cackling lightly beneath the expanse of its hood. The truck’s AC came on with an audible click.
    “Anything you think we need to go over before the meeting?” Corbett asked. “I want to head home and take a nap. Don’t sleep so much at nighttime these days, so I usually conk out for a couple of hours in the afternoon after the Dow closes.”
    “You have a detailed plan?” Norton asked.
    “Yes. You have a secure e-mail account?”
    “Well, nothing the NSA couldn’t get into. I can give you either my production company address, or one from Gmail. Take your pick”
    Corbett grunted. “Huh. Send it to Gmail, and the next thing you know, it’ll be all over Google for everyone to