Take Care of Your Own Business by Brown Gordon

Author:Brown, Gordon [Brown, Gordon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: amazon, Thriller
Google: 0SmXDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07RRBFRB6
Publisher: Down & Out Books
Published: 2019-05-08T22:00:00+00:00

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Here is an excerpt from Furthest Reaches, the second Craig McIntyre thriller by Gordon Brown.

Click here for a complete catalog of titles available from Down & Out Books and its divisions and imprints.

Chapter 1

The wind drops. Silence. The sliver of the Moon provides little light and the cold is a living thing. Creeping into bones. Chilling skin.

A crack. A frozen twig snaps. The sound smacks off the tree I’m sitting beneath. Crystal clear. Close. Too close. I bury my face in the thin material of my summer top. Trying to hide the cloud of breath. Hiding it from my hunters.

I want to run. To move. The immobility is uncomfortable but that’s nothing compared to my desire to escape. Craig, sit still.

I wait for more sound, wrapping my arms around my body to retain heat. The snow on the ground is frozen and my pants are wet—conducting warmth away from me. Every second I’m leaking life.

A small flurry of ice crystals falls. Is someone above me? I look up. The dark canopy of the Norwegian pine hides all. I slow my breathing. Holding the air. Minimizing my aural signature. It’s time to be quiet.

More ice drifts down as a small puff of air touches my cheek. I let my breath go. Just some wind. No one above me.

I wish myself back to the warmth of the cabin that lies less than a mile away. A log fire ripping heat through the building.

A second sound. Faint. Right on the edge of existence. A crunch? A light touch of a foot to snow? A shuffle of a hand on the forest floor? Same direction. To my left.

I press hard into the tree. Merging into the bark. Breathing sap.

It’s useless. I’m in plain view. They have night vision.

Time to run? Time to stay? I can’t sit much longer.

I’ll freeze to death.

I move my head to the right. Slowly. Trees. Nothing but trees. A blessing and a curse. The trees will provide some cover but, in the dark, I can’t move with any speed. I’ve already headbutted two trees on my way to where I’m sitting. They, on the other hand, can run flat out. And even if I lose them, my footprints are a trail of breadcrumbs.

Click. A soft click. Metal setting on metal. Bullet time.

I’m up. Pushing hard against the tree. Throwing myself forward as the bark explodes around me. The gun’s report arrives a split second later. A wounding shot if I hadn’t moved. I roll to the left and try to overcome my cold-sapped muscles. I am running before I’m fully upright. Away from the sound. I grab the first tree, feeling the cool texture, rough to my hands. I swing behind it. I gather speed. My feet compressing snow with a hollow munch.

There are no shouts from behind. They’re too smart to let me know how many. I pray there’s only one but I suspect there are more. Wind rushes in my ears as I duck round the next tree and cut hard right.

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