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?
Amé said something as she fell over him, struggling for breath, and he caught a glimpse of the infamous silver gun Fox Uno had given her, shoved in the back of her jeans, hidden beneath her shirt.
It flashed in the dying sun, impossibly bright.
He pulled himself up and put an arm around her to hold her close to him.
He whispered in her ear that he had her . . . that it was okay, that she was safe. She started to shake violently.
He grabbed her silver gun and turned it on the cops bearing down on them.
SEVENTY-NINE
Danny was alive first because of Eddy Rabbit, and now because of Marco Lucero.
He never would have seen the shooter he’d flushed out of the inside of the van by firing through the doors and side panels if Marco hadn’t lit him up with the headlights and pinned him down with his wild shots. Marco’s improbable attack had also kept the son of a bitch’s head low long enough for Danny to drop his empty M110 and get to the AR-15 he’d stowed in the ocotillo.
It didn’t matter that it appeared the other deputy had missed with every damn shot.
Danny put two tightly grouped rounds into the man’s chest before he had a chance to recover, knocking him backward off his feet into the still-open van door. That gave Danny time enough to turn around once more toward where he’d last seen Johnnie Macho and push him back with a few three-round bursts.
Danny then moved fast, swinging around the ass end of the van and putting one more bullet into the shooter already dying there, while clearing the now empty interior by Marco’s headlights. Using the big vehicle as cover, he quick-peeked around its side and saw one sicario down, but another still up, still firing on the sheriff and Amé. But this one, having seen Marco’s lights, realized he was flanked, and was now switching back and forth, shooting both front and behind, while trying to crawl back up into the van through the open side door.
Danny fired another three-round burst at him, and was about to turn and get into the van himself—planning to shoot him from the inside as he tried to take cover there—when the man disintegrated.
That was the best, maybe the only, way to describe it.
It wasn’t like the explosion that had killed the kid in the red shirt, but it was damn close.
A powerful fusillade tore the man apart, caving the side of the van in, blowing the passenger door clear off its hinges.
It flew fifteen feet away, tearing a trench in the gravel.
The entire van bounced up and down, tires exploding, windows shattering.
It was like the great hand that had been squeezing Danny earlier had now grabbed the van and crushed it.