Read Online The King's Highway (Days of Dread Trilogy Book 1) by Caryl Mcadoo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caryl Mcadoo
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unnatural in the setting, out of place.
The earth at the base of each plant had been cleared and filled with pecan hulls with a small dike pulled up all the way around the hulls. Several plastic buckets stood at the ready next to a stack of shovels that leaned against a tree. One pail was filled with lots of smaller hand tools.
Al stepped next to him. “My, my, appears we have stumbled onto a Cannabis Indica operation.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Perhaps the rationale for the gunfight. From the magnitude of this, I must ascertain more individuals are involved than just our shooter and his victim.”
Jackson glanced over. Why couldn’t he just say pot or weed—even marijuana—like a normal kid? “Yeah, I agree. Best we move on fast before any other partners show.”
McKenzie grabbed his arm. “No, we need to burn every one of them first!”
Jackson looked at his goody-two-shoes sister. Would he ever understand how the girl’s mind worked?
“Absolutely not, Sis. We need to get as far away as fast as we can before anyone else shows. We do not need to advertise that we’re here.”
Boggs lay on his stomach with his muzzle resting on his front paws. Taking out that bad man had sapped his energy. He watched as the kids busied themselves dipping water from the good-sized pool Jackson had set up camp next to. They cooked it over a bigger fire than his master ever used then took great care pouring it into their empty bottles.
His favorite, the little one, left the fire and went over to the big one. “Hey, Jackson, haven’t we done enough? I’m hungry. When are we going to eat?”
“Pretty soon, Bubba.”
Boggs stood and wagged his flag tail. If his little Bubba was hungry, he’d best get to hunting. He thrashed out several hoppers, but failed to catch one before it ducked into its rabbit hole. Fox spore hung heavy, but he never got close enough to get eyes on the little sneak.
A sounder of hog rooted the north shore of the lake, but he didn’t much want to tangle with such a large herd of wild pig. If his new pack was canine instead of human, he’d love nothing better than to take down a feral hog. He loved pork, but hated those razor sharp cutters they sported.
Overhead, a tree rat mocked him, flicking its long bushy tail, but he never hunted squirrel much. The tree climbers barely offered a mouthful for all the creeping around it took to catch one on the ground. He decided to encircle where the kids huddled around their fire, see if he could scare up a hopper or a family of fat field mice.
Might not be enough to take to the boy, but it would put something in Bogg’s belly.
He loved the little fishes Jackson shared with him. They tasted great but seemed to vanish before they even left his mouth. How many would he have to eat to get full? Probably more than all the cans the children carried away from his master.
Ahead, a soft light shined. Boggs crouched and eased closer. Nothing or no one had been there earlier when he came through. A new scent drifted on the night breeze. He sniffed, but couldn’t place the smell. He belly-crawled in nearer for a better look. The pleasant odor grew stronger, and his mouth watered. He crept forward past a clump of sawgrass.
There in the middle of a small clearing, his master warmed his hands over a small fire. And whatever he roasted on that stick over the flames smelled delightful. He pranced over and rubbed his head against the man’s side, thrilled to be once more in his presence.
“Hello, Boggs.” His man patted him on the head, rubbing his ear to its end. He was an exceptional being, so full of kindness and love.
He laid his head in the master’s lap.
The man cut a big chunk of the stuff from the stick over his cook fire and extended it. “You hungry, boy?”
He took it even though he didn’t usually eat something if he didn’t know what it was, but since the master offered it…. Boggs loved him above all. The master had found him in a dire
The earth at the base of each plant had been cleared and filled with pecan hulls with a small dike pulled up all the way around the hulls. Several plastic buckets stood at the ready next to a stack of shovels that leaned against a tree. One pail was filled with lots of smaller hand tools.
Al stepped next to him. “My, my, appears we have stumbled onto a Cannabis Indica operation.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Perhaps the rationale for the gunfight. From the magnitude of this, I must ascertain more individuals are involved than just our shooter and his victim.”
Jackson glanced over. Why couldn’t he just say pot or weed—even marijuana—like a normal kid? “Yeah, I agree. Best we move on fast before any other partners show.”
McKenzie grabbed his arm. “No, we need to burn every one of them first!”
Jackson looked at his goody-two-shoes sister. Would he ever understand how the girl’s mind worked?
“Absolutely not, Sis. We need to get as far away as fast as we can before anyone else shows. We do not need to advertise that we’re here.”
Boggs lay on his stomach with his muzzle resting on his front paws. Taking out that bad man had sapped his energy. He watched as the kids busied themselves dipping water from the good-sized pool Jackson had set up camp next to. They cooked it over a bigger fire than his master ever used then took great care pouring it into their empty bottles.
His favorite, the little one, left the fire and went over to the big one. “Hey, Jackson, haven’t we done enough? I’m hungry. When are we going to eat?”
“Pretty soon, Bubba.”
Boggs stood and wagged his flag tail. If his little Bubba was hungry, he’d best get to hunting. He thrashed out several hoppers, but failed to catch one before it ducked into its rabbit hole. Fox spore hung heavy, but he never got close enough to get eyes on the little sneak.
A sounder of hog rooted the north shore of the lake, but he didn’t much want to tangle with such a large herd of wild pig. If his new pack was canine instead of human, he’d love nothing better than to take down a feral hog. He loved pork, but hated those razor sharp cutters they sported.
Overhead, a tree rat mocked him, flicking its long bushy tail, but he never hunted squirrel much. The tree climbers barely offered a mouthful for all the creeping around it took to catch one on the ground. He decided to encircle where the kids huddled around their fire, see if he could scare up a hopper or a family of fat field mice.
Might not be enough to take to the boy, but it would put something in Bogg’s belly.
He loved the little fishes Jackson shared with him. They tasted great but seemed to vanish before they even left his mouth. How many would he have to eat to get full? Probably more than all the cans the children carried away from his master.
Ahead, a soft light shined. Boggs crouched and eased closer. Nothing or no one had been there earlier when he came through. A new scent drifted on the night breeze. He sniffed, but couldn’t place the smell. He belly-crawled in nearer for a better look. The pleasant odor grew stronger, and his mouth watered. He crept forward past a clump of sawgrass.
There in the middle of a small clearing, his master warmed his hands over a small fire. And whatever he roasted on that stick over the flames smelled delightful. He pranced over and rubbed his head against the man’s side, thrilled to be once more in his presence.
“Hello, Boggs.” His man patted him on the head, rubbing his ear to its end. He was an exceptional being, so full of kindness and love.
He laid his head in the master’s lap.
The man cut a big chunk of the stuff from the stick over his cook fire and extended it. “You hungry, boy?”
He took it even though he didn’t usually eat something if he didn’t know what it was, but since the master offered it…. Boggs loved him above all. The master had found him in a dire
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