Still Life, Blood on Asphalt
May 1, 2112
Atherton was dying and he knew it. With every weak beat of his heart, he felt his life ebbing out onto the road. He wasn’t sure where he was wounded or how. Didn’t really matter.
He was lying a few hundred yards from the overturned town car, which rested against a smoldering military Humvee. The road was supposed to be secure, but they’d requested an escort anyway. It was the escort that had flipped and crashed up ahead of them, and Atherton had swerved the town car but not quickly enough to avoid a collision.
He angled his head toward...