Jase & the Deadliest Hunt Read Online Free PDF

later, when the rest of the guys are eating their lunches in front of you. John Luke and Cole give you some parts of theirs. Willie, of course, decides to take some of their offerings for himself.
    “If you were a kindhearted brother, you’d offer me your sandwich,” you tell him.
    “If I were a dumb brother, I would have left my bag next to the river for an animal to get into.”
    You open the jar of peanut butter Cole brought and scoop some out with your pocketknife. Then you smear it on a leaf and set it on a flat stone edging the river.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Let’s watch.”
    You make sure everyone is a safe distance away from the peanut butter.
    Sure enough, the duck floating on the water somehow ends up realizing the peanut butter is there.
    “Wait   —can ducks smell?” Willie asks.
    You shake your head. “What kind of Duck Commander would ask that question?”
    “I don’t know if they smell or not. I just shoot them.”
    “They have a good sense of smell.”
    But this is a special duck you’re talking about. A golden one   —a kind you may never see again.
    It circles above all of you for a while, then lands on the peanut butter. But interestingly enough, a couple other golden friends join it. Ducks who look exactly the same.
    This time it’s Willie who decides to attack. He runs after the ducks, and it’s almost as if they’re in slight disbelief at the sight of this big, bandanna-wearing dude running at them with a sword. They’re like, Really?
    Then they fly away.
    “Wow, you showed them,” you tell Willie.
    “I wanted to see if they’d finish the peanut butter.”
    You all examine the leaf.
    “Oh, they finished it, all right.”
    This gives you another idea. (Sometimes you wish you could get paid for the ideas in your head. You’d be the richest man in the world.)
    Your idea ends up working too. Every now and then they turn out well. Who knew ducks liked this kind of food?
    Slowly the afternoon sinks by as you keep luring more and more ducks with peanut butter. It’s working, but the peanut butter in the jar is getting lower. And the minutes in the day are ticking away. Soon there won’t be enough of either for you to work with.
    “Okay, we have one last chance,” you tell the boys.
    And yes, you’re including Willie in that description.

    You’re standing at the edge of a cliff on the mountain you’ve spent the last half hour climbing. The others are right behind you. They didn’t want to miss out on any adventures. There’s a rope bridge hanging between the cliff and the other side of the divide, a wobbly sort of bridge that could have been used in an Indiana Jones movie.
    Hence idea number 454,201.
    “What are you gonna do now?” Willie asks.
    “Give me that jar of peanut butter,” you tell Cole.
    You open it and notice there’s still enough left. You put one hand in the jar and begin smearing peanut butter over your face, your pants, and your T-shirt.
    “Have you lost your mind?” Willie says.
    “Maybe. But we’re gonna catch one of those ducks.”
    Once you’ve used up the peanut butter, you stand in the middle of the rope bridge. They won’t be able to resist this.
    Sure enough, it works. One by one, the golden ducks start walking toward you, slowly but steadily. Willie, John Luke, and Cole all watch from the mountainside.
    You lift your sword and think about Indiana Jones again.
    The ducks get closer. Closer.
    Almost here. Almost.
    One of them is within reach. That’s when you begin to attack.
    And that’s when things go terribly wrong.
    You’re lashing and swiping and swinging and slashing, and then . . .
    You’re falling.
    You’re swimming.
    You’re drowning.
    You’re out.

    When you awake, you’re in your bed at the lodge. You’re wearing a bathrobe and have the world’s worst headache. Willie’s sitting in a chair next to you.
    “What happened?”
    He shakes his head. You can see a big ole grin underneath his big ole beard.
    “You know