The Stonefly Series, Book 1 by Scott J. Holliday

Author:Scott J. Holliday [Holliday, Scott J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn River Publishing

26

Jake woke up with more pain from the kink in his neck than the knot on his head. He opened his eyes to a familiar sweet scent, blinked at the morning sun, and pulled his face away from the pile of sugar beets.

At least the rain had stopped.

He came up to his knees, startling a nearby whitetail deer. It bolted away and scampered through the trees, seeming to favor its left hind leg. After it put some distance between itself and Jake, it looked back with its oily black eyes. Jake noted a healing wound on its left flank and upper leg. Likely some poacher trying to score before hunting season began. There would be a scar. The injured animal must have been hungry and probably aggravated to find a man sleeping on its newfound food source.

Sorry, fella, Jake thought. Thank me later when you don't catch a broadhead with your heart.

The deer dashed off.

Jake rubbed his neck and then touched the knot on his head, sucked his teeth at the shock of pain. His stomach felt like a closed fist. Hungry. He considered biting into one of the sugar beets but then recalled there were two Powerbars in his truck.

He walked out of the trees and down the two-track until he reached the main road. From there he walked along the shoulder until he reached his truck. As advertised, all four tires were flat. Slashed open. It was a five-mile walk back to anything resembling a town. At a decent pace that'd be an hour and a half. Screw that. Jake got in and started the engine, turned up the heat to knock the chill off his skin. He opened his duffel bag. His Glock was in there, peeking bashfully out like a neglected child. He snatched up one of the Powerbars and zipped the bag closed. The bar was chewy, but a swig of water washed it down and after a moment Jake's hunger abated.

He put the truck into gear and pulled a U-turn.

The truck shuddered as it went. Jake thought the windshield might shatter from the rumbling. It didn't take but a minute to see this ride would not only cost him new tires and rims, but new shocks and struts, as well. He rolled down the window and leaned out to see the tires were already shredded to hair and sparks were flying off the rims as they scorched the asphalt.

He closed his mind to the damage and pushed down the accelerator.

It was a typical small-town morning in Wixom, meaning the gas stations were overrun with work trucks and lawn maintenance vehicles getting fueled up for their days, sidewalks in front of storefronts were being hosed down, and open signs were being flipped over or clicked on. Jake drove past them all on flat tires and nearly flat rims, making a noise he could only imagine. The heads of store owners and pedestrians turned with him as he passed. The hardware store owner pushed up his glasses and squinted.

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