Lei Crime Series Box Set by Toby Neal

Author:Toby Neal [Neal, Toby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Toby Neal

I woke with that jerk that happens in a falling dream, my whole body a-jangle with alarm and a sense of impending disaster.

But the disaster had already happened, when we were captured.

I blinked my eyes in a darkness as thick as if a velvet bag had been dropped over my head. The plane had crashed in my latest dream, and I’d been on fire at the end. Crawling. Dragging my dog, burning and desperate.

Like the most recent time the house was on fire.

But the plane hadn’t crashed, really. Must have been another dream. Or a memory. Maybe it had crashed. Who the hell knew?

I wasn’t sure about anything right now. Dreams and memories ebbed and swirled through my mind, and I couldn’t tell which was which half the time. I shut my eyes, since I couldn’t see anything anyway, and tried to remember the real plane ride here to Honduras—because that’s the particular ring of hell where we’d landed. I was sure of that much.

The military transport C-130, open and echoing, had roared along on its journey to whatever the godforsaken mission destination was—I hadn’t known at the time. I was strapped into the over-hard upright seat against one wall, alongside a couple of other civilian contractors. Military police troops I’d be training when we arrived occupied the rest of the seats.

At least I’d finally slept on the flight. I rolled my sore neck, using the occasion to gaze around the interior of the aircraft. Several heavy-duty Jeeps were strapped down the length of the plane, along with a huge pile of supplies held down with a webbed net. I unstrapped from the five-point harness and stood, stretching my muscles. I took a walk up and down the length of the plane, getting circulation back into my legs.

I felt shitty. Throbbing headache, dry mouth, a twitchy sense of frayed nerves. Perhaps left over from the dream I’d been having, but more likely that other thing. I dug in my olive-drab backpack, stuffed with all the personal possessions I’d have for the next six months. I took out my shave kit and went to the head.

It was a bare-bones closet with a metal toilet and sink with a steel mirror above it. I did my business and opened the shave kit.

I had a flask inside filled with booze, disguised as a shaving cream can. It had been a simple enough thing to buy online. This ration was all I going to get, and it was strictly for medicinal purposes, so I could stave off the DTs as I dried out.

Because that’s what this stint overseas was all about. Kicking the booze, and the other mental shit, too. I swigged a gulp of the cheap scotch, gazing at my hollow-eyed reflection in the steel mirror with contempt.

The foul stuff seared my throat and made my eyes water, burned my esophagus, and went off like a bomb in my empty belly. It tasted horrible. I wanted to retch. Instead I felt immediately better as flu-like symptoms of withdrawal receded.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.