BooksBarbecue
Back The Runaway
Chapters (80)
  1. Cover
  2. TITLES BY NICK PETRIE
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  79. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  80. What’s next onyour reading list?

Johns was gone. This was up to him and Falk. He hooked his fingers through the grate and pulled as hard as he could, but the metal wasn’t moving. It was designed to cage a man indefinitely. “Falk,” he shouted. “Get me out of here. Falk!”

Through the cracked windshield, he saw her front passenger-side door open. Falk got a leg out with her pistol in her hand and turned to say something to Helene. Then a dark form appeared at the crushed rear corner of her cruiser, arm extended, slipping forward over Johns’s front bumper like a shadow.

Something flashed twice with the cough of a suppressed handgun and Falk slumped slowly to the ground. Then the shadowed form turned to look at Peter.

He saw a white skull with fangs for teeth and black holes where the eyes should be. A face mask. With Helene’s asshole husband hidden beneath.

Roy plucked up Falk’s pistol and took aim.

Peter dropped to the floor and made himself as small as possible, knowing it was useless.

46

BANGBANGBANG! The gunshots were so loud they blocked out all thought.

BANGBANG! Glass shards flew like shrapnel. BANGBANGBANG! Peter flinched on the floor, shaking, out of his mind, waiting for the pain. BANGBANGBANGBANG! He knew what pistol rounds would do at close range. BANGBANGBANG!

Then the firing stopped. His heart hammered and his ears rang. He opened his eyes, hoping he hadn’t pissed himself. The shooter was at the side window now. He’d taken off his mask, revealing tousled blond hair, a rough blond beard, and ice-cold eyes that examined Peter’s reaction without expression.

The engine block hadn’t protected Peter. Roy had just been fucking with him, while also destroying the dashboard and interior cameras, which were now useless plastic shards.

He lingered a moment longer. A cold smile appeared abruptly, flicking on and off like a switch. Then he pulled the mask down again and walked away.

Peter scrambled up to the seat, breathing like he’d lost a footrace, trying to push down the panic. Roy was headed toward the first two cruisers. Peter looked for Helene. Through the wrecked windshield, he saw her stuck in the back of Falk’s SUV. Frozen in place, eyes wide, surely terrified, and trapped just like he was. But he couldn’t help her until he got free of this fucking car.

He was hyperventilating. His vision began to narrow as the static rose up inside him, crackling like a thunderstorm. He couldn’t catch his breath. It would be so easy to give in, to let go. But he couldn’t afford to lose it, not now. Hang on to your shit, Marine. This is no time for the werewolf.