Read Online Deadfall by Robert Liparulo - Free Book Online

animal, ready should a fresh burst prove necessary. After a few seconds he lowered the gun.
    Declan said, “This weapon alone narrows your chances to somewhere between zero and none.” His smile was a wire drawing taut. “And it’s nothing. A Super Soaker next to what else we have.”
    Tom’s eyes moved to the burning car.
    Declan asked, “Still think you have a chance?”
    Tom looked hard into his eyes. “Always.”
    â€œOkay. If you somehow manage to elude us, to hide where we can’t find you or you actually make it to civilization, then you’re free.We won’t kill anyone in retaliation. Promise.”
    â€œWhat kind of head start do I get?”
    He looked at his watch. Instead of answering, he called to the girl. She came to the doorway of the general store, a folded magazine in one hand, a bitten Ho Ho in the other. There was a smear of chocolate on her lips.
    â€œIt’s time. Go get the others.Tell Pru and Julie to make sure nobody can get out. They should have it all secure over there by now.”
    She gamboled past Tom, not offering him even the briefest glance.
    A minute later, the community center door banged open, releasing Julian, Pruitt, and Cort.
    â€œA head start?” Declan said, as though no time had passed since the question. “How does five minutes sound?”
    â€œI think an hour’s fair.You want to be fair?”
    â€œNo, I like five minutes.”
    He swiveled his head to make eye contact with each of his five sycophants, standing in a semicircle around them. Each gave a nod, apparently already apprised of the game and its rules.
    â€œReady?” he said to Tom with a wink. “Go.”

8
    Hutch, Phil, Terry, and David found the area where Franklin had suggested they set up camp.
    â€œYeah,”Terry said approvingly.
    There was a flat, grassy patch, which Hutch thought of as the stage . It was here they would make camp. Surrounding it on three sides, like side and rear theatrical curtains, were tall evergreens, mostly fir, with a smattering of birch to make it more richly textured. These trees clothed a low berm that nearly encircled the camp area, protecting it from the wind. Stage right was an opening in the trees, a trail that converged with the path leading to the helicopter meadow.
    On the open side of the campsite or stage, which faced northwest, boulders paved a gentle slope down to the Straight River. The water here was not much more than a wide, fast stream. At the base of the slope, a natural pool had formed, ideal for cleaning fish, their clothes, themselves. Upstream and downstream, the current rushed over steps of rocks, serenading the campers with one of nature’s finest songs: the low susurration of moving water.
    Adding to his appreciation of the bivouac, Hutch didn’t see a bear trail anywhere near. He did spot a few widow-makers—standing dead trees that could blow down on them if they camped too close—but the area was large enough to avoid them.
    As usual, they had brought only two tents, which cut down on gear, helped each tent stay warm at night, and ensured that a bear couldn’t drag off one of them without the others knowing about it. Hutch selected a spot to pitch the tent he and Phil would use and started clearing it of twigs, pinecones, and rocks. Phil pulled their tent from its pouch and began snapping together the flexible poles that would arc over it, giving structure to the material.Terry and David debated the merits of three possible locations.
    A scorched circle where grass and dirt gave way to rock showed the spot where previous campers had laid a fire. Following the rules of Canadian backwoods camping, the last users had broken up the pit, redistributing the perimeter stones into the surrounding landscape. Even the ashes and unconsumed wood had been scattered, either by the campers or the weather.
    Having camped together for seven years, the four men worked mostly