Torrents of Destruction by Caroll Robin

Author:Caroll, Robin [Caroll, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: RC Productions Incorporated
Published: 2015-05-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Hunter swallowed back the roar of laughter clogging his throat. The look on Jerry’s face was priceless—simply priceless. As he helped Katie hobble toward the lean-to, his attraction to her grew.

God, please help me out here. She doesn’t trust in You. Show me the way to lead her back to You.

Hunter shoved into the little shanty, then helped Katie onto the dirt floor beside Orson before directing his attention to Carter. The old man stood right outside the doorway, letting the rain clean away the mud from the pack. Hunter joined Carter, hoisting the other pack under the bombarding downpour and rubbing away the muck. Katie’s dog paced between the door and his mistress. Jerry stood outside.

Their shelter looked to be about twenty-by-twenty, with a tar roof atop a wooden frame. Cobwebs flecked the corners. One long table sat to the left of the door, with a fire pit in the upper left corner of the room. Beside the pit sat a firewood rack loaded with smaller logs and kindling. It had a feeling of comfortable decay—wood and nails, rigid and unimaginative, but shelter none-the-less. A thick layer of dust stirred into the air as the group ambled inside.

Paul shuffled to Katie’s side. The green-eyed beast within Hunter surged. He gritted his teeth and swiped the pack so hard it slipped from his grasp. Bending to pick it up, he spied Jerry casing out the area. Hunter watched Jerry pick his way around to the back of the lean-to. Distrust replaced jealousy as Hunter slung the pack into the lean-to and sprinted to sneak up on the investor.

Keeping his body pressed as close to the makeshift building as possible, Hunter listened for Jerry’s footsteps in the sluggish dead leaves among the thicket. Shadow bounded beside him. Hunter snapped his fingers once and pointed, as he’d seen Katie do many times. The dog dropped to his haunches with his ears erect.

Hunter drew up short when he heard Jerry’s mumbled curse, followed by stomping and splashing. Hunter deftly returned to the doorway, mere seconds before Jerry appeared from the other side.

Feigning surprise, Hunter glared. “Where’ve you been?” The dog rushed past him into the lean-to.

“Just looking around.” Jerry shrugged, but avoided eye contact.

The body language training he’d undergone screamed in Hunter. He’s guilty—he’s the murderer! “Find anything useful?”

“Nah.” Jerry pawed at his wetsuit, knocking off thick clumps of mud.

Hunter ducked and crossed the threshold. Carter stood at the small wooden table, still swiping at the packs with the back of his arm. Katie, with Shadow laying at her feet, sat sandwiched between Orson and Paul, the younger man’s head bent close to hers. Hunter exhaled sharply through his nostrils, then made purposeful strides toward Carter.

“Let’s see what we have here.” Hunter took the larger of the two packs and fumbled with the strings. Wet and infiltrated with muddy granules, the knots were secured tight as a miser gripping his last dime. Hunter’s numbing fingers couldn’t pry them apart.

Jerry thumped inside the shanty and peered about.

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