Chapters (110)
- Cover
- ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- I
- II
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- PART TWO
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- PART FOUR
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Excerpt from LOST RIVER
- LITTLE PARIS
- DILLON
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“Here’s a couple hundred bucks. Get your goddamn phone juiced up. Today. Maybe give Charity a call to tell her you’re not dead out here. Probably still not a good idea to see her, but one call wouldn’t hurt, I guess. And if you see or hear anything, anything at all, you call me next. Got it? I mean that.”
Eddy took the money and shoved it into his pocket. With his back to the trailer and the door of the truck in the way, he didn’t think anyone inside saw the exchange. “Got it.” Then he motioned low to Danny’s phone, “Something bad’s happening, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” Danny looked down at the envelope in his hands, which still had plenty of green inside it. “When I was in Afghanistan, I always used to think the calmest days were the ones right before everything went to hell. You always paid for that little bit of peace, no matter what.” He handed the rest of the envelope over to Eddy. “Fuck it, take it all.”
Eddy did. “She never called you, did she? Charity, I mean. You tried to call me, couldn’t get ahold of me, and came out here on your own.”
Danny ignored most of what Eddy had said. “You still got my number?”
Eddy searched back . . . remembering the egg carton.
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Good, then use it.”
Danny got in the truck and turned the engine over, but the driver’s-side window was rolled down, and he talked to Eddy through it. The cool, rushing air of the open window had probably done wonders for Danny’s hangover, an old trick Eddy knew well. “It’s been a couple of nice, calm days. It’s getting cooler, with autumn here. I like it. I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, Eddy, holding it together. Let’s keep it that way, okay? No, Charity didn’t call, but I’m sure she wanted to.” Danny fidgeted with the keys. “You’re going to be all right.”
“Yeah,” Eddy said, as he turned to walk slowly back to the trailer. “Then how come I feel like such shit?”
—
JOHNNIE WAS ON HIM the minute he crossed the door.
He punched Eddy in the shoulder, knocking him off his feet. The others were circled all around, except for Ringo. That snakeskin-wearing motherfucker was still up by the window, his black long gun just below the sill, pointed at the floor, his finger on the trigger.
“I think he’s gone, Johnnie,” Ringo was saying, but he didn’t leave the window, and the gun didn’t move.
Not an inch.
“What did he want?” Johnnie asked Eddy, his boot hovering to deliver a kick. It looked enormous from the floor.
“Nothin’, goddammit, it was a bunch of nothin’.”