Midnight Sun (90 page)

They
reached
the
end
of
the
paved
road.
Working
on
the
assumption
Marcus
had
made
about
Farrah
’
s
character
,
he
turned
the
truck
around
and
started
another
pass
along
the
main
road.
A
few
cars
had
passed
as
they
drove,
mostly
Lexus,
Mercedes,
and
Volvo
SUVs
and
a
couple
of
minivans
with
middle
-
class
soccer
moms
at
the
wheel.
The
majority
of
the
area
’s
residents
were
in
the
city
at
work.
The
giggly
sound
of
children
playing
in
the
summer
sun
bounced
on
the
air
from
behind
a
house
set
back
from
the
road.
Halfway
back
to
Rabbit
Creek
Road
,
a
sky
-
blue
minivan
with
a
taxi
light
on
its
roof
topped
a
rise
nearly
half
a
mile
in
the
distance.

“
Pull
off!
”
Mike
hissed
.

Marcus
obeyed
and
turned
onto
a
side
street.

“
What
’
s
up?
”
Marcus
asked
as
he
rounded
the
corner.

“
That
cab.
What
’
s
the
likelihood
someone
out
here
would
hire
a
cab?
It
’
d
cost
fifty
bucks
to
get
a
ride
all
the
way
out
here.
And
Kharzai
was
in
a
cab
just
like
it.
”

Marcus
turned
the
truck
around
and
nosed
back
up
to
the
intersection.
The
cab
passed
a
moment
later.
The
rear
driver
’
s
side
fender
was
badly
dented,
the
back
bumper
twisted
away
from
the
body
and
pointed
up
like
a
tail.
Mike
caught
a
good
look
at
the
driver
as
he
passed.
His
face
jutted
forward,
bearded
neck
stretched
and
mouth
open
wide.
His
thick
black
hair
quivered
with
a
sudden
motion
as
he
bobbed
his
head
forward,
presumably
in
time
to
music.

“
It
’
s
him,
”
Mike
said
,
“
but
that
damage
wasn
’
t
there
yesterday.
”

“
Yeah,
just
as
I
remember
him
too,
”
Marcus
replied
.
Memories of
Kharzai's
erratic
antics
when
they
first
met
in
Iraq
nearly
ten
years
earlier
played across his mind
.

“
Give
him
some
space
,
then
let
’
s
pull
out.
It
d
oesn’t
look
like
he
saw
us.
”

Marcus
waited
about
ten
seconds
,
then
turned
onto
Goldenview.
Kharzai
’
s
cab
was
a
couple
hundred
yards
ahead.
He
was
traveling
fairly
fast,
the
blue
Ford
Freestar
bounding
over
the
short
rolling
hills
with
the
grace
of
a
turtle
on
caffeine.

Brake
lights
flared
and
the
van
abruptly
slowed
,
then
turned
off
the
road
and
into
a
driveway,
kicking
up
dust
as
he
drove
to
the
house
at
the
end.
Marcus
did
not
slow
as
he
passed.
Mike
glanced
up
the
dirt
-
and
-
gravel
drive
and
saw
the
minivan
pull
behind
a
large
garage
built
out
of
the
same
thick
logs
as
the
house
next
to
it.
He
noted
the
address
on
the
side
of
the
mailbox
that
stood
beside
the
road.
Marcus
continued
to
the
end
of
the
road,
then
turned
onto
the
winding
,
unpaved
sections
and
took
the
back
route
to
return
to
the
highway
so as not to
be
seen
passing
that
house
a
third
time.