Page 13 - FINAL DESTINATION

FINAL DESTINATION
The Farmer hurried back to his truck. He started it up, but could only creep forward through the cows gathered for dinner. Neil's first thought was to make a run for it. Drop his mother and try to make it back through the thicket, under the fence and run like hell for his car before the guy in the truck could pull around to the gate and get to the house. That didn't seem like a very good idea. Even unencumbered by the box, his chances of crossing two barbwire fences while out running a
pot farmer in a pickup were slim.
That left hiding. To his right were stairs leading to the
second floor. Gripping a rickety banister, Neil made his way upstairs. Testing each step before he put his full weight on it made for slow climbing, but he made it to the top before he heard the noise of the truck engine again at the back of the house.
The upstairs hall ran the length of the house to a window that looked out the back. Neil made his way cautiously down the hall, avoiding a sagging section of the floor. Through the dirty window, he could see the truck stopped beyond the gate and the man, now cradling shotgun, was fumbling with the padlock. The chain fell away, and the gate swung open. The man approached the house holding the shotgun at ready, butt against his shoulder, angled down. Neil could see his face locked in a scowl of grim resolve.
Neil had to fight down a wave of panic to pull himself away from the window. He pressed his back against the wall. He could stay here in the hallway hoping the farmer would find his stash undisturbed and just go away. What were the chances of that? This guy, who looked more like a soldier than a farmer, had come looking for an intruder armed with a shotgun. All he would have to do is stick his head above the level of the landing to see Neil cowering out here in the hallway, clutching his card- board box. He knew he would need a better hiding place.
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