Dom Wars: Round 6 Read Online Free PDF

for bait. I’ll have our line ready in a few minutes.”
    Grubs, huh? A glance around revealed a half-rotted log at the base of the little cliff, a short distance from camp. The low light forced me to move slowly, wary of possible traps, but I resisted turning on the little LED lamp attached to my cap. Not just to conserve the battery but who knew how far away the little pinpricks of light might be visible to other eyes. I preferred not to paint a target right on my forehead for Jase Duff. No need to make it any easier for the bastard.
    One foot on the log, ready to kick it over, I paused. The film we’d been required to watch detailing all the dangerous and venomous creatures lurking on the island rolled through my head until the frame paused on a small brown snake. The reptile’s unpronounceable name was probably longer than a fully grown one. According to the film’s narrator, the name was also longer than a human could move after being bitten by one, before his heart stopped.
    The image of that angular little head planted itself firmly in my mind and kept me frozen there, foot on the log, for a very long second. No fucking way I was going to pick around in the dirt under any log without being able to see clearly. Especially not on this island. I bent a little, angling the light on my cap at the log and clicked it on.
    My first push just rocked the log a little before it settled back into its original position. I waited motionless for anything to crawl out. I braced my other foot a little better and gave a hard shove with the toe of my boot. The log let go of the ground with a tearing, crunching sound and the scent of damp earth and rotting vegetation filled my lungs and nose.
    No snake. I bent close, looking for any recognizable bait that didn’t match any of the deadly insects images I’d memorized. Or tried to. Scales glittered in my light before a small lizard darted away. At the other end of the depression the log had left, a pale fat grub wriggled awkwardly and I grabbed it, only to realize I didn’t have a container of any sort to put the damn thing in. With a hard swallow, I broke down and just kept it in my hand while I searched for more.
    Finally, I clutched enough wriggly, slimy things in my hand to bait the hooks Preacher had made. Heading back, I found Preacher working at something beside the quiet pool. A glance at the women’s progress impressed me. Tara and Becca had created a small shelter a couple feet off the ground, barely high enough for us to all crawl under, but there must be a reason for that. A tiny fire glowed up against the base of the little cliff, and a small metal pot sat in the edge of the fire, presumably boiling water since that’s all we had.
    Beside the water, Preacher squatted over whatever he worked on, his own LED headlamp emitting several points of bright light. He looked up as I approached. “About time, Bane,” he said lowly, “I was starting to think I was going to have to get the bait, too. What’d you get?”
    I stretched my hand out to reveal the nasty, barely squirming things in my palm. I’d had to half strangle them to keep them from worming their way to freedom. “You said grubs. Hopefully this is the kind you want.”
    He grinned and plucked one from my hand and held it up for inspection. “Doesn’t he just look delicious?” He promptly popped the fucking thing into his mouth and ate it.
    “Seriously, man?” I dumped the remaining grubs on the ground. “The fish that grub didn’t catch? Yours. Not mine.”
    Humored low laughter rumbled around us as he threaded the rest of the grubs onto the four makeshift hooks suspended on a length of para-cord. Of course. I’d forgot about that handy stuff. We’d kept our empty water bottles to refill when we found drinkable water, and he had a couple secured to the line. I followed the line to a boulder on the other side of the little pool and spied a wooden spike at his feet, driven into the dirt. “We’ll check