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Back Deception Cove Save as PDF
Chapters (78)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Prologue
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-One
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. Thirty-Nine
  46. Forty
  47. Forty-One
  48. Forty-Two
  49. Forty-Three
  50. Forty-Four
  51. Forty-Five
  52. Forty-Six
  53. Forty-Seven
  54. Forty-Eight
  55. Forty-Nine
  56. Fifty
  57. Fifty-One
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Fifty-Four
  61. Fifty-Five
  62. Fifty-Six
  63. Fifty-Seven
  64. Fifty-Eight
  65. Fifty-Nine
  66. Sixty
  67. Sixty-One
  68. Sixty-Two
  69. Sixty-Three
  70. Sixty-Four
  71. Sixty-Five
  72. Sixty-Six
  73. Sixty-Seven
  74. Sixty-Eight
  75. Acknowledgments
  76. Discover More
  77. About the Author
  78. Also by Owen Laukkanen

The other guy wasn’t even trying to keep quiet. Mason could hear him crashing through the trees as he came in on the chase. As far as he could tell, the guy wasn’t shooting, though. He’d heard a couple more shots from back toward the isthmus, heard someone cry out and wondered if that was the end of Dale Whitmer. But it was about that time that Mason realized he’d been shot himself, and he decided to stop worrying about the corrupt sheriff’s deputy and focus on saving his own ass.

Dang, but this sucked, and it wasn’t just the pain. Mason could feel himself slowing, feel his body getting weaker, as he fought his way through the brush and over more deadfall. He’d been fighting his way through this forest all morning; even if the new guy hadn’t shot him, he figured he’d have been about ready for a break. But now he felt beat. He felt slow, heavy. Clumsy. He climbed a fallen trunk and crashed down on the other side, nearly dropping the shotgun, couldn’t muster the focus to stay upright, stay nimble.

He couldn’t run forever. Hell, he wouldn’t last another five minutes, not at this pace. He stopped. Leaned against a tall fir. Touched the gunshot wound at his side, cautiously, winced as his fingers came back bloody.

The gunfire had stopped on the other side of the island. Mason didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. He couldn’t just lie down and die, though, not until he knew that Jess and Lucy were safe. He had to get up and go find them.

Mason steadied himself. Wiped his bloody hand clean on his shirt and forced that hand to grip the shotgun. Then he started back toward Jess, straining to listen for any sound from Kirby’s accomplice. He couldn’t hear much but the wind in the trees and the waves breaking offshore. Even Jess’s gun stayed silent.

He climbed over a fallen tree, slid down the other side. Tried not to cry out from how the movement burned at his rib cage. He was still bleeding, and the blood was coming out dark. He was exhausted, stumbling through the trees, propping himself up on whatever he could find. It was still a long way to where Jess was.

Then he heard something. A grunt, a man in similar distress. A patch of ferns shook fifteen feet away. A branch snapped. And then the other guy stepped out into the open.