Breaking (Fall or Break #2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

deserted him, and somehow emerged with a runty mongrel who rarely made a sound. When all the other dogs had clamored for attention, Deefor had sat at the back of his cage staring straight at him, no trust at all in his eyes. Archer regretted saying “That one” the moment the words came out of his mouth but he knew there was something in the dog he saw in himself. An undefined misery. He hoped they could cheer each other up and to an extent, they had.
    He flicked through the paper as he sipped his coffee. Diesel emissions causing health problems. Members of parliament not to be trusted on expenses. Three skydiving friends die while proximity jumping. Archer read that article. Wearing wingsuits, the three had jumped from a helicopter in Switzerland, stayed close to the side of the mountain for too long and missed a chance to pull their ripcords. A lapse in judgment. One moment in time. That was all it had taken. It made him think of his friend Chris and it was a reminder that if he wanted to stay alive he could never let his attention slip.
    Once he’d finished his coffee, took the paper inside and paid. Deefor jumped up when Archer came out and followed him down the road toward the harbor car park. He didn’t use a lead. If the dog wanted to leave him he could, but Deefor never strayed far from his side.
    The van he’d been waiting for had arrived, and a group of people next to it were picking out wetsuits. When Archer had seen the surf projections yesterday, he’d booked the equipment online. It seemed an efficient way to do business without the need for a shop. Everything could be collected from and delivered back to the same point.
    By the time he’d picked out a suit that would fit his lanky six-three frame, the other surfers had gone.
    “Where are they heading?” he asked.
    “Embleton Bay.” The driver, a youngster with sun-bleached hair who didn’t look old enough to drive, pulled a surfboard out of the van. “We’ll be back here at three. Don’t be later than three thirty.”
    “No problem.”
    Archer tossed the wet suit into the rear of his Audi Q3, reclined the passenger seat and fed the nose of the surfboard over the parcel shelf and into the footwell. He opened a back door for the dog but Deefor sat on the tarmac and looked at him.
    “Get in, Deefor.”
    The dog didn’t move.
    “You have to sit in the back. There’s no room in the front.”
    He still didn’t move.
    “I’ll leave you.”
    Deefor jumped in and Archer slammed the door. Willful mutt. He drove out of the car park and up the hill toward the town. He was looking forward to this. The surf conditions were forecast to be excellent all along the coast. Offshore winds and storms at sea brought big waves to the beaches of North Druridge Bay, Warkworth, Embleton, Beadnell, Seahouses and Bamburgh. But he didn’t want to surf with a load of youngsters and decided to head to Shennan Sands, an isolated beach with a small parking lot, which limited the number who’d be there.
    The place was a pain to get to. A single-track, winding road with few passing places, though he didn’t meet any other vehicles. He’d been here a few times to walk Deefor in the early evening. The parking lot was empty when he arrived and he stripped next to the car, quickly pulling on his trunks and then the wetsuit. The sun might be shining in a clear blue sky but it was November and on the northeast coast of the UK it was rarely going to be anything but chilly.
    He locked the car, hid the key in a specially constructed box inside the front left wheel arch and headed barefoot over the dunes with the board, Deefor trotting beside him. It had been a couple of years since he’d surfed and he felt an unexpected surge of excitement. As he made his way to the water, Deefor ran in circles, chasing birds, sniffing puddles left by the retreating tide, leaving a few of his own.
    When Archer reached the water, he looked back. A couple of isolated houses sat in a gap in the