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?
Ortiz was ready to pack up and leave, right then and there, as was the big fucker, Roman. The other two, Ringo and Chavez, were not as sure. Johnnie kept telling them he had no idea why Deputy Ford would be asking about him, no fuckin’ idea at all. And it didn’t matter anyway. They didn’t have a choice. They had to see this thing through, no matter what.
It sounded to Eddy like Johnnie had been caught in a trap of his own long before he ever walked into Eddy’s trailer, and he’d pulled the others right along in with him.
Ortiz said out loud what Eddy knew the others were thinking—He’s just looking for Johnnie, not us. No one knows about us. It’s not too late.
For a moment, Eddy thought Roman might shoot Johnnie right then and there, but Johnnie kept at it, working his side of the story. He sounded like a desperate man pleading for his life, which maybe he was.
“Besides,” he finally said, “I got the message this morning, right before that prick Ford was pulling up. We’re moving today. It’s a go. Today, and then we’re done.”
Then we’re going home.
Eventually they all got calmed down, but the damage had been done. The air was electric, like lightning had gone off inside the trailer. They were all on edge, jumpy, as they checked their packs and their gear. They kept throwing glances at each other, some silent language between them, all behind Johnnie’s back.
Maybe Johnnie couldn’t see those looks, but he could definitely feel them.
Eddy could.
They probably felt like spiders crawling all over him.
—
JOHNNIE SIDLED BACK OVER TO EDDY and leaned in close. There was sweat beaded on his forehead, and he stank. “And you’re going, too, motherfucker. I may need your help, and I sure can’t leave you here alone, now can I?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” Eddy said. He’d taken his best shot at Johnnie, and maybe, just maybe, he’d bought Danny, and even Deputy Reynosa, some time. Maybe he’d saved Charity, too, for a while longer.
And the day wasn’t over yet. Hell, it was just getting started.
Eddy wasn’t going to make it all the way to sundown, not in the company of these murderers, but then again, his old amigo Johnnie might not either.
Fair enough.
He pushed Johnnie away, almost daring him to take another swing at him, but Johnnie didn’t. He let him go.
There was that feeling of lightning in the trailer again, and it made the hair on Eddy’s arms stand up.
Eddy strolled into the kitchenette, not a goddamn care in the world. He was feeling good, loose. He looked over to the others, any of them, except for Johnnie.