The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX

419

Jack Rankin saw the patrolman standing right in the middle of the highway waving his flashlight through the veil of snow, which floated around him. He stood like he was the principle part of a billboard sign summoning a motorist to stop at some enterprise beside the road.

It was odd since the patrol car's blue light was not flashing as you'd expect and as the patrolman at last came into full view of his own lights it seemed to Jack he had on a uniform that was not the norm of a patrolman. This guy had a long coat on that fell below his knees and it was very dark, but it was seemingly green in color not the usual gray, black, to dark blue waist length coat that the HP would wear in such a season.

But it must be a patrolman he thought. In fact he thought it was probably the one he had seen leave the Crawford Town Café less than a half-hour ago. But he did not see the waitress anywhere about. Beyond the patrolman Jack could also see the bus, the bus with a Southeastern American logo below the tiny rear windows that showed through the haze and exhaust clouds that puffed up from its rear.

It was obvious that it was the same bus that came through each night at this time and the one that had left the café before the patrolman and the waitress. Perhaps he thought, the bus suffered some type of accident and the trooper needed the assistance of another driver immediately. If that was the case he expected at any moment to hear the scream of emergency vehicles in a rush to the area to help anyone that may be injured for surely the patrolman had summoned them on his radio.

He knew well that he had no choice but to stop and as he neared the patrolman he pulled his small bottle of mouthwash from his coat pocket. He brought it up to the wheel and quickly had the cap off while still trying to cautiously steer the pickup truck. He pulled the bottle up to his mouth and took a quick, hardy, gulp of the minty fluid. He swirled the stuff around in his mouth several times and the taste of it almost made him throw up. He could feel some of it in his nose stinging the membranes there and almost leaking like snot from a ragged child.

He couldn't spit it out and so he had to swallow it. It was disgusting but he was forced to do it. Then with the skill of a magician despite the alcohol in his system, he managed to get the cap back on the bottle and then put the container back into his coat pocket just as he came upon the scene.

420

His truck lights revealed that the patrolman was not the one he'd seen at the café. This guy was much younger, it seemed, and his skin looked rather pale, almost like someone who was deathly ill, and needing the attention of a doctor.

The light from the flashlight was harsh in is eyes, the patrolman was pointing it directly at him. Once he had come to a complete stop he put up his hands to avoid the menacing brightness. When he did he could better see the patrolman. His face was young and handsome, but at the same moment it was ghastly white, as white as the snow that was now so incessant. And the man had a look of madness in his eyes.

Then the officer turned his own head. In that instant Jack caught a glimpse of the suit coat he wore beneath the longer, heavier garment. He knew what it was in an instant. He had worn one himself once some years, back when he was in the US Army. He had now rolled down the driver's side window. "Hey you–you ain't no state trooper!" Jack exclaimed and then he reached and began to roll the window back up. It went up mere inches before the soldier shot out his left hand and grasped it with an unbelievable strength and held it down.

"Where's the patrolman?" Jack demanded to know. As he asked this he reached back for the gearshift intent on pulling the thing into first and taking off. As he closed his hand over the gearshift another one closed over his. He had jammed hard on the clutch with his left foot that was now quivering with fear like someone gripped by palsy. The pain in his hand was so intense that it felt as if a mountain was crushing it.