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Back Roadkill Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Table of Contents
  4. Chapter One: Fender Bender
  5. Chapter Two: Bigfoot Burrito
  6. Chapter Three: Treasure Hunt
  7. Chapter Four: Open Sesame
  8. Chapter Five: Central Intelligence
  9. Chapter Six: First Flight
  10. Chapter Seven: Park It
  11. Chapter Eight: Next Steps
  12. Chapter Nine: Search Strategies
  13. Chapter Ten: Overflight
  14. Chapter Eleven: Barn Doors
  15. Chapter Twelve: Saturn Fly-By
  16. Chapter Thirteen: Getting a Clue
  17. Chapter Fourteen: Hacked
  18. Chapter Fifteen: The Spy Game
  19. Chapter Sixteen: Investigations
  20. Chapter Seventeen: Break-In
  21. Chapter Eighteen: Battening Down
  22. Chapter Nineteen: Shoring Up Defenses
  23. Chapter Twenty: Third Time’s the Charm
  24. Chapter Twenty-One: Proxy
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two: Rescue
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three: Chase
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four: Spies R Us
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five: Surveillance
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six: Making Plans
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven: Going In
  31. Chapter Twenty-Eight: Infiltration
  32. Chapter Twenty-Nine: Accidental Captive
  33. Chapter Thirty: Interrogation
  34. Chapter Thirty-One: Reaction
  35. Chapter Thirty-Two: Kidnappings
  36. Chapter Thirty-Three: Reviewing Options
  37. Chapter Thirty-Four: Public Debut
  38. Chapter Thirty-Five: Distractions
  39. Chapter Thirty-Six: The Big Reveal
  40. Chapter Thirty-Seven: Regrouping
  41. Chapter Thirty-Eight: Waiting for Results
  42. Chapter Thirty-Nine: It Hits the Fan
  43. Chapter Forty: Disassembly
  44. Chapter Forty-One: Wrapping It Up
  45. Chapter Forty-Two: Negotiations
  46. Chapter Forty-Three: Coda
  47. About the Author
  48. About the Publisher

“Inconceivable,” I muttered.

Back inside, I tossed the Styrofoam shield onto the workbench. “What is it?” asked Sheldon.

“It’s literally a shield for fooling a motion-detector.” I threw myself into my chair, which rocked and squeaked alarmingly. “Styrofoam absorbs active motion-detection systems and blocks infrared for passive systems. Neutral color makes it hard for area-integration systems to generate a convincing differential.” I snorted. “It’s on the internet, so I assumed it was by definition BS, like water-powered engines and Nigerian inheritances. But apparently this one actually works.”

“I am impressed,” Sheldon said. “Is it possible that there is another subspecies of humanity, hiding in the shadows, that does all the actual thinking?”

“Well, if you believe the internet conspiracy nuts, there’s ZOG, the shape-shifting lizard people, the Grays, the Deep State, the Illuminati, and maybe a half dozen others. Of course, they aren’t all human, so maybe some of them don’t count.”

“Honestly, you humans just keep setting the bar lower and lower. You are in danger of forgetting to breathe.”

I laughed. “I don’t necessarily disagree with you, Sheldon. Sometimes I wonder about us too.” I tried and failed to stifle an enormous yawn. “Tomorrow we’ll have to talk about how to reinforce the barn walls and maybe protect against Styrofoam attacks. Right now, all this nightly excitement is cutting into my sleep time. Talk to you in the morning.”

Chapter Twenty-One: Proxy

Chapter Twenty-One: Proxy

Day 15. Friday

I was sitting in the passenger side of the Buick, being driven to work, when my phone dinged. I jumped slightly, then pulled it out. I still had a tendency to stare at the phone. It was mine, yet not. It had all the same apps, the same icons in the same order. Even my data, like contacts and history, was all intact. But it was missing a few scratches and that hairline crack on the screen from when I dropped it.

It was definitely new. And slightly lighter, I thought. And much tougher, according to Sheldon. Well, why not?

The phone unlocked and I read the text from Patrick: Tim ate it up. Sent DM right away, arranged blind drop for the detector. Hope Phil isn’t suspicious. Tim thinks he’s graduated to Starfleet, the little shit.

I couldn’t help chortling.

“So, not bad news, I guess,” Dad said.

“Naw, just a text from Patrick. He’s letting his little brother live for at least one more day.”

“Ah. Little brothers.”

My father said nothing more, and I didn’t want to give the subject any life, so we settled back into our now-customary uneasy silence for the rest of the drive.

I was stocking some vegetable bins when I got a text, this time from Sheldon. Phil Ross has retrieved the detector. The tracker is working perfectly. I can monitor his location to within a couple of feet.