Murphy's Law (The Bounty Hunter Series - Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

her silently.
    She stumbled, and then cried out. He jerked around and shuffled his feet. Dust flew. Leaning down, he grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it at Slick. He grasped her hand, holding her up. “Run! Now!”
     
    ***
     
    As if in tune, Echo matched his strides.
    “Jump,” she cried, clearing the brush on the edge of the dirt road. The landing jarred her, but she kept running.
    “They’re getting away. Go get ’em, you dumbass,” Sheriff Hornsby yelled.
    A gun fired.
    Echo ducked. It missed.
    “Left,” Murphy ordered, shifting slightly as they raced over the dry, desert land.
    She followed his commands every few feet, dodging the spray of bullets. Her heavy breathing filled her ears. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest.
    The shouting increased, the sheriff and the buffoon blaming each other.
    By her side, Murphy clutched her hand and held tight. “Don’t stop until we drop.”
    A cactus nicked her calf. She sucked in a sharp breath.
    “Two steps, then right,” he called.
    Suddenly, an engine revved. Tires spun, kicking up gravel and dirt. The darkness in front of them lit up with the arch of the headlights. “God damn it, go after them, dumbass!”
    Their silhouettes leapt in front of them as they ran over the stark land. With gut instincts, she moved to the left with him and out of the light for a moment. The sheriff must have backed up and swung the car around.
    “Where’d they go?” the buffoon hollered. “I can’t see if you keep moving the car.”
    A spotlight flooded, lighting up the area.
    Murphy cursed again.
    Nothing but flat, cactus dotted land lay ahead.
    “Outrun the gun,” she choked out one his Murphy’s laws. The headache gnawing at the fringes of her brain zigzagged through her skull. She fought back the fresh wave of nausea. “Kick it!” Echo shouted. The familiar battle cry she used in her self-defense classes roared from her now.
    “Three steps left, two right, jump.” With his commands, they matched their moves, dodging the flying bullets.
    “Can’t you shoot?!” The sheriff’s cry reached her. “Give it over. I’ll do it.”
    The crack of a rifle burst in the air.

 
     
     

Chapter 8
     
     
    White-hot pain ripped through Murphy’s skin. “Fuck,” he hissed, stumbling.
    His misstep took him down. He hit the ground hard. Echo fell on top of him. They rolled to one side, arms and legs tangling together.
    Sweat and dirt mingled, settling on him. Warm blood seeped from his thigh.
    “Yee hah! Got him!” the sheriff hollered.
    “Get up, Echo.”
    “Murphy, you’re hurt.”
    “Just a scratch,” he lied. “Never mind that.”
    She stumbled to her feet, and then reached down for him. He leaned on her, wincing at the burning pain shooting through his flesh.
    “They’re coming,” he bit out, hearing the shouts of the men as the kidnapper rushed toward them.
    “We can outrun him.” She tugged at him to follow her lead. “Over there. More shrubs. Beyond, in the distance, there’s a feed area.”
    “Hay, water, means animals, then some humans close enough.” She took the lead, going slower at first. “Faster,” he coached.
    “But your leg.”
    “I’ll let you know when I can’t feel it anymore.”
    Echo picked up speed. He matched her strides, biting down on the shafts of pain jarring through him with every step.
    “They’re leaving,” Slick shouted.
    Another shot rang out.
    “God damn it, don’t shoot while I’m out here!”
    “Run faster then, dumbass!” the sheriff hollered back.
    Murphy heard a far-off moo. “That way,” he said between gritted teeth. “There’s gotta be more cows.”
    “Cover,” she guessed, her breaths coming in gasps.
    How long could they run for? Warm blood seeped through his jeans, matting the heavy fabric to his skin. Perspiration covered him, stinging as it soaked into the wound. That and the friction of the denim rubbing against it made the wound raw and seem like it was on fire.
    It was nearly an hour later