He looked in his driving mirror. There was a car coming, but behind the car he could see a long stretch of empty road. He looked ahead. Apart from a truck that was toiling along about a quarter of a mile away, there was no other traffic.
He slowed down, letting the car pass him. It was travelling at a high speed, and it went past with a swish and a rush of air “Do you hear that knocking?” he said. “Something's loose at the back.”
“I didn't hear anything.”
He had slowed to a crawl. The truck was coming up faster now it had crested the slope. It would be on him before he could do anything, and he cursed silently. He glanced in the driving mirror again. The road behind him was empty.
“Maybe I was mistaken.”
He had trouble in keeping his voice steady. Sweat beaded his forehead and his heart was hammering. He shoved his foot down hard on the gas pedal and sent the car surging forward so as to meet and pass the truck.
The truck went past and thundered on down the road. A quick glance behind and a look ahead told him the road was now empty for at least a quarter of a mile either way. He trod down hard on the foot brake and pulled up by the side of the road.
The steamy heat and the smell of decaying vegetation came out of the forest of cypress and palmetto trees.
“Have a look at the back, will you? It sounds as if the bumper has come adrift.”
She opened the door.
“I didn't hear anything, Harry.”
“Well, look, will you?”
He found his voice was shooting up and he throttled it back just in time. His hand slid into the pocket of the door and his fingers closed around the wrench. He opened his door as Glorie got out on to the hot road and went around to the back of the car.
This was it, he thought, one quick blow, then he'd pick her up and rush her into the undergrowth. He could finish her there.
He kept the wrench hidden behind his back as he went around the car.
“There's nothing loose,” Glorie said. “I think you imagined it, Harry.”
She was facing him, looking right at him. He couldn't meet her gaze. He bent over the bumper and pushed it.
“That's funny,” he said. His voice sounded far away. “I could have sworn . . .”
“Shall we go on?”
“Yes.”
He waited for her to turn. He held the wrench so tightly his fingers ached. As he turned, he saw a car coming fast, and he just stopped the upward swing of his arm in time.
The car, a low-slung coupe, was coming like a bolt out of the blue. Glorie had reached the car door. She opened it. Harry watched her. He was shaking, but he had enough presence of mind to keep the wrench out of sight. The sports car flashed by and went snarling down the road, leaving behind it a cloud of dust.
Harry shoved the wrench into his hip pocket, moved forward and caught hold of Glorie's arm, stopping her as she was about to get into the car.
“Just a second...”
A big oil truck struggled up the slope and into sight and came pounding towards them. Harry thought he must be nuts to have hoped to get rid of her on this road. It seemed alive with traffic.
“Don't let's get in just yet,” he said. “I want to have a look at the forest. Come on. Let's stretch our legs.”
If he could get her into the forest and out of sight of the passing traffic...
“Oh no,” she said, pulling away from him. “I wouldn't go in there. It's full of snakes.”
The oil truck came abreast of them and slowed. The driver leaned out of the cab window.
“I'm looking for the Denbridge Service Station,” he shouted above the roar of his engine. “Is it on this road?”
Glorie got into the car and shut the door.
“Yes,” Harry said, silently cursing the truck driver. “About three miles further on.”
The driver waved and accelerated. The truck went on with a grinding of gears.
For a long moment Harry stood motionless, then he walked slowly around the car. It would have to be the coast road, he told himself. He was crazy to have stopped here.
“I forgot the snakes,” he muttered as he got into the car. “I wouldn't want to tread on a snake myself.”
“The wood must be full of them,” Glorie said. “You've only got to look at the road...”
“That's right.”
He accelerated and sent the car forward fast. They had over a hundred miles ahead of them before they reached Naples.
The canal side of the road was alive with wild birds and the surface of the milky coloured water was constantly being broken as fish reared up to snap at the swarm of insects buzzing above the water.
As Harry drove the Buick mile after mile, the scene gradually changed: the cypress forest gave way to low oak and willow hammocks with the occasional maple tree forcing its way through the dense undergrowth. Every now and then he caught a glimpse of an isolated Seminole village, half hidden from view behind high palisaded walls.
From the barman's map, Harry knew that some way ahead the road forked to Collier City. From the look of the map he had judged there would be lonely stretches along that road, and it was there where he had planned to get rid of Glorie.
Glorie seemed too absorbed by the scenery, the flocks of wild birds that rose out of the forest, startled by the noise of the speeding car, and the turtles that basked along the side of the canal, to talk, and Harry was glad of her preoccupation.
When they reached Royal Palm Hammock, with its white palms growing wild and thrusting their trunks above the cabbage palms, Harry slowed his speed. Somewhere ahead, within a few miles, was the junction to Highway 27A where he was to turn off for Collier City.
After ten minutes of slow driving, he saw ahead of him the fork in the road. He swung the car on to it, leaving the main road on his right, and entered the flat area of wasteland that was covered with palmettos and pines.
After driving a mile or so, Glorie said suddenly, “Is this right?
Shouldn't you have kept to the main highway?”
“It doesn't matter,” Harry said curtly. “This is more interesting, and we can pick up the highway later on. Look what we're coming to. There must have been a clam-canning plant here at one time.”
On either side of the road now appeared great mounds of gleaming clamshells, bleached white by the sun that formed a solid wall, shutting out the view. The mounds continued for nearly half a mile, then the road suddenly opened out on to a dazzling white sand beach with palm trees, palmettos, sea lavender and coco-plum trees to provide a mile deep belt of shade.
The strip of beach was lonely and desolate. Harry slowed the car. “Pretty good, isn't it?” he said huskily. “Let's stop here and have a swim.”
“My costume's right at the bottom of the suitcase,” Glorie said.
“Why worry about a costume? Who's here to see you except me.”
He swung the car into the shade of a palmetto tree and pulled up.
“Come on; let’s swim.”
She got out of the car and walked away towards the sea, leaving a trail of footprints behind her.
For a long moment Harry sat watching her, his heart pounding.
He had a strange feeling that they were suddenly the only two people left on earth. The long sweep of the beach, the dense forest at their backs, the blue sky, the hot sun and the silence told him this was the place. There could never be any place more lonely than this.
His hand reached behind him and his fingers closed over the handle of the wrench. He opened the car door. This was it, he told himself. She was standing with her back to him, looking towards the sea. The breeze moulded her dress around her so he could see the roundness of her hips and her long legs.