Ride of the Horseman by Steve Gilmore EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Author: Steve Gilmore
- Language: English
- Genre: Fantasy Adventure Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
TRYING my absolute damnedest to keep pace with Doc Kelly, I burst out of
the dark alley at unnatural speed and ran straight into some dude wearing a
cheap Santa suit. With a look of pure terror plastered on his face, the poor
bastard careened backward, screaming bloody murder right up until he
tripped over a plastic reindeer and faceplanted on the sidewalk. After that,
he was pretty quiet.
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Apparently, the blunt force of the blow knocked the wind out of him.
And I might’ve accidentally kneed him in the balls.
At least once.
Maybe twice.
Definitely not more than three or four times.
Jumping to my feet with an awkward smile on my face, the surrounding
crowd of passersby gasped as I helped the faux Saint Nick to his feet.
“Sorry, pal,” I muttered. “Merry Christmas?”
After he responded with nothing but a spirited hand gesture and a few
choice expletives, the crowd gasped again at his Grinch-worthy behavior.
“Quit dicking around with the locals!” Doc’s voice boomed from the
Roostertech-infused communication device buried in my right ear. “We’re
losing him.”
Looking up, I caught a glimpse of her petite frame sprinting through the
late-night traffic before she ducked into the alley across the street. “Maybe
if you slowed down a little bit—”
“Maybe if you kept up a little bit,” she grumbled, “we’d be done with
this already!”
Making the mental note that fake Santa wasn’t the only one acting a
little Grinchy tonight, I bit my tongue and dashed across the street. Pulling
up on Erin’s flank, she motioned for me to stop as she peered into the
darkness of the alley ahead of us. “What is it?” I whispered.
“He’s here,” she whispered back.
Squinting into the looming night, I struggled to see anything besides a
few dumpsters lining the walls of the adjacent brick buildings. “You sure?”
“Yup. You smell that?”
I sniffed the air, and my nostrils were immediately assaulted by the
familiar stench you’d expect to find in a downtown alleyway. “Piss?”
She groaned. “Cologne.”
I sniffed again. “Not cologne. Unless it smells like piss and garbage
with a lingering hint of ass.”
Before she could say anything else on the matter, a hulking silhouette
stood up from behind one of the dumpsters, and a deep, guttural voice
shouted, “It’s sandalwood body spray, douchebag!” And then the big
bastard picked up the dumpster like it was made of cardboard and threw it
at us before bounding into the darkness and out of sight. Typical.
Leaping out of the way of the three-ton metal box soaring towards us,
Doc shook her head and glared at me.
I shrugged. “What?”
“We’re here to help these people, Dean. Do you think maybe you could
take it down a notch or two?”
“Wait, are you insinuating this is my fault?”
“No. I’m asking you to be more—”
“You think it’s my fault they always run, don’t you?”
She sighed. “How long have we been doing this for?”
“I don’t know. A couple of months.”
“Seven months.”
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