The Fraternity of the Stone by David Morrell Page A

death team was monitoring transmissions from the area. They'd learn where he was, come for him, and sooner or later they'd get past the cops.
    The cruiser stopped beside the van. A spotlight came on, aimed at Drew.
    Okay, Drew thought. I've just spent six years in the strictest order of the Catholic Church. I've just survived a multiple hit. I stalked and killed a man. I wounded another man. I tied him up and managed to throw him in the back of this van before the cop arrived. Now let's see if I can do something really hard.
    Like urinate.
    Increasing pressure on his bladder, he squinted behind his shoulder toward the spotlight, vaguely able to read the words along the cruiser's door: VERMONT STATE POLICE. He contracted his muscles and sighed with mental relief as the liquid flowed.
    "You couldn't wait?" a gruff male voice said behind the spotlight.
    Drew shook himself and pulled up his fly. Turning, he grinned with feigned embarrassment toward the unseen presence behind the spotlight.
    He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Except for mandatory choir and required responses at daily mass, he hadn't spoken to another human being for the past six years. His only conversation, one-sided, had been with a mouse.
    "Couldn't wait? I asked you." The policeman was impatient.
    Drew confined to grin with feigned embarrassment. Words formed in his mind, but his vocal cords resisted.
    Come on, you know you can talk. Pretend you're responding at mass. His lips and tongue felt thick. "Well - sure -I - hey, when you've got to go, you've got to go."
    Amen. His voice sounded hoarse and gravelly.
    "Something wrong with your throat?"
    Drew shook his head but pretended to cough. "It's just a cold." The words came easier.
    "You sound like you'd better see a doctor. Where you headed, into Quentin?"
    Drew pretended to be puzzled. "Where?"
    "Next town. Twelve miles south. The direction I came from."
    "If I'd known a town was that close, I'd have tried to wait to take a leak. This isn't exactly cozy." Drew held out the palm of his hand, collecting rain.
    "It's damp all right." The policeman was silent for a moment, unseen behind the spotlight. "You'd better get inside."
    Drew coughed again. "Right." But as he turned toward the driver's door on the van, he suddenly wondered if the cop had meant for him to get inside the cruiser. He reached for the latch on the driver's door.
    "You didn't tell me where you were headed," the cop said.
    "Massachusetts. Down to Boston." Drew waited tensely.
    "You're driving late." "
    Apparently he'd answered acceptably. "They need me back at the office. I took a fall vacation, hunting up in Canada."
    "You get anything?"
    "Yeah. This cold."
    The policeman laughed. "Well, next time don't stop with your lights off. In this storm, somebody might have come around this bend behind you and - "
    "Whacked into me. It's true. I wasn't thinking." Drew coughed. "I guess I just didn't want to advertise what I was doing."
    The policeman shut off the spotlight. Drew's eyes relaxed. From the lights on the cruiser's dashboard, he could make out the face - younger and thinner than the husky voice had suggested. "Stay awake, huh?" the cop said. "Keep your eyes on the road."
    "You can count on it."
    Raising his thumb, the policeman drove away. Drew watched the red specks of his taillights disappear around the bend in the road. He exhaled, leaning against the van. If the man in back had woken up and started making noises...
    But what if he'd woken up anyhow and used the time to slip out of the rope, and now he's waiting for me? Drew yanked the door open. Turning on the flashlight, he saw that the heap beneath the sleeping bags wasn't moving. Dead? Had he suffocated?
    Drew scrambled in, tugging off the sleeping bags, and relaxed when he heard faint breathing. But the wounded leg was pumping blood. The sleeping bag was soaked with it. He had to hurry. After making sure that the rope still bound the man's arms, he used the man's belt to