Blood Is the Sky: An Alex McKnight Mystery by Steve Hamilton

Author:Steve Hamilton [Hamilton, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, Suspense, Adult
Amazon: B003JH8MGU
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Published: 2010-04-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Vinnie was down. That was the first thing that came to me. I ran over to the front porch and said his name, saw blood on the side of his face. I heard another shot. Wood chips flew from the side of the cabin.

I grabbed him by the coat and pulled him to his feet. There was another gunshot, and then another. Everything after that was a mad rush of fear and adrenaline. We ran like animals, tripping over rocks and roots, pine boughs lashing our faces. There was nothing left but running. No thought. No sanity. No reason. Just running through the trees with our hearts pumping in our throats.

Vinnie tripped and went down hard. I picked him up, just as we heard a branch snapping somewhere behind us. We kept running. He went one way around a great rock, I went another. I thought I’d pick him up on the other side, but he wasn’t there.

There was a stream here, maybe the same stream we had seen before, maybe not. I had no idea where the hell I was. I almost called his name out loud, then realized how suicidal that would be. I stopped and listened. I could hear nothing but my own breathing and the soft sound of the water on the rocks.

Something moved in my peripheral vision. I ducked instinctively, waiting for the rifle blast. Vinnie’s face appeared around the trunk of a tree. He was holding his right ear, the whole side of his face painted in blood. He was leaning against the tree like it was the only thing holding him upright.

I went to him, pushed his hand away, and looked at his face. He brushed me away and pointed at the ground. I looked down and saw my own footprints. We were making it pretty damn easy for them to find us.

“Come on, this way,” I said. I was about to take him up the stream but thought better of it. That’s exactly where they’d expect us to go. Instead, I led Vinnie downstream for a good hundred yards, cutting back against our original direction. The water was cold and it soaked my boots again, but what the hell.

We jumped out of the stream and hit the woods again. We couldn’t run anymore. But we kept moving. There was no trail here. We didn’t want a trail. We squeezed our way between trees and climbed over rocks. I don’t know how long we kept going. I don’t know how far away we got from them, or how hard we made it for them to find us. When Vinnie started to slow down and stumble, I figured we had gone about as far away as we were going to get.

We came to a large ridge of exposed rock. I peered down over it and saw that there was an overhang. “Vinnie, down here,” I said.

I helped him crawl down over the ledge. He collapsed right there, his back against the wall of rock.

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