Kiss the Morning Star Read Online Free PDF

still.” I tug at the sleeves of my fleece. “Is it legal to shoot at the ground ?”
    Kat laughs. “It’s complicated.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning not exactly.” Kat takes my hand again, the hand I have finally successfully removed from its death grip on her forearm. “Look. They’re coming.”
    It’s true; the men are moving toward us, their flashlights bobbing ahead of them, sweeping in wide arcs as they search the darkness.
    “That was a gunshot,” says one of them, loud as can be. “You see anything?”
    Kat pulls me along the edge of the ridge. “They know it was us,” she whispers. We scurry along with our bodies stooped down in the shadow, hoping to flank the group of men.
    “Hey!” shouts one of the men, his voice thick. “Little girls like you shouldn’t be playing with guns!” The flashlight beams dance over the edge of the cliff, but we’re able to slip behind them and sprint back to our own camp.
    “Let’s get out of here,” Kat says, tossing things into the trunk. “They probably didn’t notice too many details about our car. They were already wasted when they got here.”
    We shove all of our stuff into the car as quickly as we can. My fingers fumble with the plastic clips that hold the tent fabric to the poles, and I’m glad that I practiced pitching and striking this tent. Who’s the geek now? With each action, my thoughts grow clearer.
    “They’re coming back!” Kat hisses. She jumps into the driver’s seat and starts the car, and I run to open the passenger side door.
    “The fire!” It’s down to embers, but still. “We’re not even supposed to have open fires!”
    “Anna. Get in the car. The fire is fine.”
    “But…leave no trace…” I’ve also been reading a guidebook to wilderness camping.
    “We can’t leave no trace and get away from these freaks. Now get in, babe.”
    I almost climb in, but then I glance over at the picnic table. “Katy, the stoves !”
    Our two shiny new camp stoves, still attached to their fuel bottles, are sitting neatly on the picnic table. Without them, we’re screwed. “Anna, they’re coming!”
    The flashlight beams are flickering over our camp now; it must be obvious that we’ve packed up. “Hey, girls!” shouts one of them. “Hey, little gunslingers!”
    “Oh, laaaaaaaaaaaadies! Where are you gooooing?” This one calls out in a falsetto voice that dissolves into rough laughter.
    “Don’t leave now! The party just started!”
    “Get in the car right now,” hisses Kat.
    I leave my door ajar and run over to the picnic table. I can’t abandon the stoves. I scoop them up in my arms and start running back to the car, but before I reach it, a man steps in front of me. His headlamp is aimed right in my face, so all I can see is a dark shape, and then his hands are grabbing me, wrapping around me, pulling me roughly toward him. I’m not afraid, oddly enough. I feel strong, ready to fight. His hands are on my ass and in my hair; his fingers curl into the base of my ponytail and grip hard.
    “Get the fuck away from me!” The jumble of camp stoves and fuel bottles in my arms is just awkward enough to give the man some trouble as I shove hard against his chest. I grip one stove in my right hand, lift my knee toward the man’s groin, and swing the stove at him. The heavy canister of white gas, still tethered to the stove by a thick metal tube, connects solidly with the man’s forehead, and his headlamp drops to the ground. He goes down after it, clutching his balls.
    I slam the car door shut behind me. “Move!” I shout, hitting the lock. “Get us out of here!”
    Kat is already squealing out of the spot, tires spinning in the dust. “I told you to get in the car, Anna, are you crazy? You could have gotten killed or raped or worse for a stupid stove and some plastic fucking forks!” She shifts as she swears, whipping the car around and pressing the gas pedal to the floor. I grip the dashboard with one hand, the