said Carson. “I don’t like the idea of driving straight through a town that size. The alarm is going to go out any minute. Somebody is going to find those—find out what happened at the garage. Then they’re going to freak out, big-time. They’re going to go totally ape shit.” “Maybe, maybe not. The radio is still quiet. It’s only about five miles to Lynnville. We’ll be through it and out in no time. It’s better to rack up the road miles while we can. Get some distance from Carrolton. And I’m still feeling lucky.” The radio had been left on its working channel. Spanish-speaking voices were occasionally heard, but there was no sound of panic or warning. “I still don’t like it,” said Carson. “Why can’t we dump this hummer and get picked up on this side of town?” “I don’t know why not; I just know we have to get north of Lynnville on 13. That’s where the escape ratline starts.” In a few minutes, they approached the outskirts of the town. It was set in a natural cleft in the low hills that ran parallel to the Tennessee River. After a half mile of widely spaced businesses, they reached the intersection with the two-lane State Road 13. The traffic signal was flashing a four-way red. Doug Dolan said, “Lynnville has electricity. That’s always a good sign.” “That’s an improvement since the last time I was over here,”
What do You think about Foreign Enemies And Traitors?
