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He looked through the trees to the bridge。
And； for the first time； noticed the truck。
Hal Thoman felt nothing but wrongness now； a nasty sour ache in the pit of his stomach。 The truck looked extremely fucked…up from here。 If this was a pattern； it wasn't a good one。
〃Son of a bitch；〃 he muttered。 〃County； this is Adam…sixty。 Do you copy？〃 he spoke into his handset。 It bounced the signal back to the cruiser； which in turn boosted it back to County Control。
〃Roger； Adam…sixty；〃 the dispatcher's voice came back over the box on his hip； salted with dropouts and static。 〃What's your twenty？〃
〃Roger； County； I'm out at Black Bridge；〃 he replied。 〃I've got an abandoned truck up on the structure。 Looks like it might be that ten…seven vehicle reported this morning。 Whoever took it left it pretty blasted；〃 he added。 〃I'm checking it out。〃
〃Roger； Adam…sixty。 Approach with caution。〃
〃You got that right；〃 he said。 〃Adam…sixty out。〃
Caution was not the word； Hal realized as he walked out onto the bridge。 It didn't quite capture the feeling。 Dread was more like it。 Oughta be a new code； he laughed nervously。 Approach with dread。
The roar of the creek surrounded him； filling his head with thunder。 The rails and rock bed were slick under his feet； sticky with waste oil。 Tar。 And worse。 The tingle had spread up his arm； and lodged in his shoulder like a fat knot of tension。
But all of that paled in parison with the sight of the truck。
〃Blasted〃 is a severe understatement； he thought。 They flat…out nuked the bastard。 It looked like some giant psychotic toddler had taken his Tonka truck to hell。 The driver's door hung open； mangled； the windows no longer existed。 Chunks of safety glass rimmed the frames like the stubs of broken teeth。 The paint job was cracked and ashen； flaked down to the metal in a thousand places。
There were maybe a dozen barrels； on and around the truck。 Not burned； he realized。 Blistered。 Like the truck。 The tops were blown。 Trace residues of a milky sludge leaked out of one； seeping into the rocky track bed。
Hal picked his way through the mine field； careful to touch nothing。 He came up on the passenger side； deciphered the lettering still visible on the door。 〃Aha；〃 he said； peering into the cab。
The keys were still in the ignition。
〃Bingo；〃 he said。 〃I got you； you sons of bitches。〃 Thieves didn't generally use keys。 And Trina's personal habits weren't the only things buzzing on the gossip mills。 The Pussers got their fair share； too； and unlike Trina's； none of it was good。
Now sometimes lowlife hunks of shit had guardian angels that covered their asses。 And sometimes you had to turn your back if you wanted to get along in the world。 As a cop； he'd had to scarf that bitter pill at least a thousand times over。
But if you aimed to buck the odds and take a snot at real justice； you needed proof。 As in physical evidence。
It took no rocket scientist to put this one together。 Just the sight of all those empty barrels； the truck pulled up with its tailgate hanging over the side； made him so goddam crazy he thought he was gonna explode。
I ain't sure exactly what happened here； he seethed； but I'm about to find out。 And when I do； I will nail you to the fuckin' walls。 Believe it。
〃Adam…sixty to County；〃 he said； reading the plates off the front。 〃Holding Pee…Aye license number Thomas X…Ray three nine nine three。 We have a possible HazMat problem here 。。。 〃
He looked at the toasted barrels again； paused to consider his words。 〃Uh； County； maybe we should switch to Echo…Four；〃 he said； only now thinking of the ears that might be listening in。 There was a harsh bark of static in the handset。 〃Uh； County？〃
His lips were tingling。
〃Jesus！〃 Kirk blurted； mind racing。 〃Did he just say what I think he said？〃
〃God； let's hope so；〃 Laura answered； pinning back the scanner's volume and grabbing a pencil。 She'd cranked the controls while they were in editing； when the call first came； it blew through the news department like a bomb blast。
Laura checked a map and scribbled。 This was a godsend： a stolen truck was good for maybe a thirty…second fill…a full sixty； if it was really trashed。 But this 。。。 this had possibilities。 This could save her from pooper…scooper hell。
Kirk； for his part； was all but foaming at the mouth。 The breakup had reduced the signal to mush； but not before he'd heard that magic word。 It was his ticket to the stars； the big break he'd been waiting for。
HAZMAT。 Hazardous Materials。 The moonmen。
My God； he thought。 If there's been a spill 。。。
〃I'm on it；〃 he said； making for the stairs。 In the background； Mike appeared in the camera bay doorway； saddled up and ready to roll。
〃Wait； wait！〃 Laura called after him； notepad in hand。 Her hair fell across her face as she tuned one ear to their tape of the scanner broadcast； nodding rhythmically and scribbling。
〃Wait？ Wait for what？〃 Kirk fidgeted； halfway out the door。
〃For this；〃 Laura said； ripping the sheet of paper off the pad。 〃It helps if you have directions。〃
Kirk nodded sheepishly； came back to her。 〃Thanks。〃
Laura leaned across the desk； body English all business but her eyes alight。 Saying This could be hot。 Don't fuck it up。
Kirk grabbed the paper； and their fingers touched。 Again； the spark。 God damn it to hell。
〃Take the car；〃 she ordered。 〃And stay in radio contact。〃 He nodded yeah yeah yeah as he bolted up the stairs。
〃KIRK！〃 she called out； just as he turned the corner。 He screeed to a halt； looked back into the newsroom。
〃Just the facts； okay？ Get me something real。〃
Kirk smiled and winked。
And then he was gone。
It was buzzing inside his head。
〃No no no；〃 Hal railed at himself； as if the terms of his awareness were negotiable。 As if he could persuade the chemicals to leave his brain。 The buzz was a high distant whine in his inner ear； and it scared the living shit out of him。 He didn't know what it was。 He didn't know what it did。
But he had a real clear sense of where it came from。
Get away from the truck； boomed a voice in his skull。 Good advice。 Hal took it； managed three steps； and then doubled over： stumbling forward； tripping over a railroad tie。 The momentum careened him toward the ledge at the edge of the bridge。
He caught himself； barely； stomach violently lurching as it whacked the ledge。 His Mister Krispy Kreamy Kake sluiced semidigested from his nostrils and throat。
〃Oh； god；〃 he gasped。
And stared down over the brink。
The creek was churning； dark and deep； bloated with rain and astonishing power as it overflowed its bounds； racing swollen and crazy…mad toward the river beyond。
Watching it was like staring through a hurricane's eye at the swirling earth below。
The storm had battered the brittle bees that lined the shore； left them raped and denuded； what blanches remained knit together and rustled like ravaged leper limbs。 Pockets of stormfall choked off sections of the creek： broken branches and whole uprooted trees； old tires； rusted machine parts； bottles and cans and runoff debris； all caught at loggerheads and pummeled by the current。
His eyes burned； a napalm pain that smeared the lenses of his vision。 The murky greens and browns of the woods intensified； like someone had cranked the color controls on a cheap old TV set till the world pulsated with garish； oversaturated hues。
Hal draught he saw a glimmer of light stand out from the surface of the water； twitching and twinkling in a tangle of flotsam near the overflown bank。 It flickered again； and he locked on it； pulled it as hard into focus as he could。 It was disk…shaped； flat and shiny。
A shiny little disk。
On a tiny； pale wrist 。。。
〃Oh； fuck！〃 Officer Hal Thoman moaned； his gut churning more sewage back up his pipes。 He'd forgotten pletely about Bernie Kleigel and his pint…sized casualties of war。
But there they were； big as death。
It was the Hinds boys； after all。
Ralph and Jimmy J。； aged eight and ten； were half…submerged； tangled together as if wadded and tossed there； impaled a dozen times over on the stray ends of the expanding trash pontoon。
Their eyes were open。 Their mouths were open。
Wet things crawled around in the holes。
〃Oh； Lord；〃 he gagged； and stumbled away； choking。 One of their arms jutted out of the water； pale as a china ghost； snagged in wood and murk and mire。 Jimmy J。's Timex was the shiny thing that had snared his gaze。
The hand it was strapped to pointed palm up； fingers curled delicately around empty space。 It bobbed in the insistent current； as though waving for him to e on down。
Get off the bridge； his mind told him。 Get off the goddamned bridge。
Hal wheeled； clamping down on the adrenaline surge before it could blossom into full…blown panic。 He scuttled off the structure just as fast as his feet would carry him。 His head cleared a little with each passing yard； until he was safe。
On the wrong side of the bridge。
Oh； smart； he thought。 Now what！ The bridge lay between him and the world。 The truck owned the bridge。 He remembered the handset； snat