Hunted Past Reason Read Online Free PDF Page A

branches.
    "They're not squirrels," he said.
    "Pine martens," Doug told him. "They like to chase each other."
    Bob chuckled as the two thick-legged martens disappeared in the overhead branches, making bark dust and twigs rain down.
    He started to speak when Doug said, "I'm going to take a ten-minute nap." Laying his head back, he closed his eyes again. Ten minutes? Bob thought. Could he do that?
    He stared at Doug for almost a minute. Doug was handsome enough: well-proportioned features, full head of black hair, athletic build. But he sure could be a pain in the ass.
    He lay his head back and closed his eyes.
    Was this a mistake after all? he wondered. His past relationship with Doug had never been a close one. He and Marian had gone once to the cabin when Doug and Nicole were still married. Doug had been doing reasonably well then: a small, running part in a detective series; it was on that set that he'd become acquainted with Doug.
    The weekend had been a tense one. Doug and Nicole were obviously getting close to a divorce, their behavior during the weekend not easy to experience, filled with arguments— about their son Artie, about Doug's limited career, hints (from Nicole) about Doug's womanizing.
    Doug tried to cover it all with laughter and charm; he could be charming when he wanted to. At least he was on that weekend.
    Bob had made the mistake— he felt now that it was a mistake— of mentioning the backpacking novel he was planning to write. When he spoke about the research he'd done, Doug had insisted that the only proper research he could do would be to actually take a backpacking trip— and he was the one to take Bob on it. Bob had expressed interest and gratitude at the offer. Now he wasn't sure it was a good idea after all. Since things had been going poorly for Doug's career (he was back working with a building contractor again) his disposition had darkened somewhat.
    And I have three whole days ahead to be with him, he thought, maybe four.
    Yippee.
    He twitched as something landed on his lap. Jerking open his eyes, he looked down and saw an energy bar lying on his right leg.
    "Time for a snack," Doug told him. "Eating while you hike should be one long, endless snack— a piece of candy or fruit, a sip of juice, an energy bar. Something to raise the blood sugar level."
    "Thanks," Bob said. "Can't say I'm crazy about these things. Marian loves them but I don't."
    "Eat it anyway," Doug told him. "You should take in three ounces of carbohydrate every two hours. Don't want to let your glycogen level get too low."
    And so the lectures begin again, Bob thought; Professor Crowley on the podium.
    "If we were home, I'd kill you if you spent a lot of time eating candy and flour products, sugar, big-time carbohydrates. Out here though, go for it. You need the energy."
    "Okay." Bob tore off the wrapping, looked at it for a few moments, then put it in his pocket.
    "That's a good boy," Doug said. "Never litter."
    Bob started to chew on the energy bar. Yuk, he thought. Dates.
    "Fat is good too," Doug told him. "Nuts. Cheese. Meat." Bob looked at his watch. Ten minutes, sure enough. He was impressed.
    "Here, swallow this," Doug told him, tossing over a white tablet. "Salt tablet," he said as Bob picked it up off the ground. "Better than fake sweat."
    "Fake sweat?"
    "Gatorade, that kind of thing. Supposed to supply you with sodium chloride." He made a scornful noise. "Salt tablets are better."
    "It's really beautiful up here, don't you think?" Bob asked after he'd washed down the salt tablet with a sip of water.
    "Sure," Doug answered. "Why do you think I come here?"
    "The blue sky, the clouds," Bob said. "The air. The stream. The incredible colors of the leaves. Those yellow trees aren't maples, what are they?"
    "Dogwood," Doug told him.
    "They certainly are beautiful," Bob said.
    "Chlorophyll draining," Doug said. "They're dying."
    Bob chuckled. "Well, that's one way of looking at it," he said. "Not too aesthetic,