Rebel Heart Read Online Free PDF

pebbles, sticks.
    Nero’s slowin ’em down. He darts, draws blood, retreats. Agin an agin an agin. They lunge at him. Strike with their claws. A flurry of fur an feathers an dust. Shrieks an snarls. They’ll hurt him. Kill him.
    Nero! Nero! I scream. I got rocks in my hands. Throw ’em, throw ’em. No, no, I might hit Nero. Dust an chaos. I cain’t see clear.
    My breath, my breath’s comin easier. Whatever took hold of me starts to let go. But I’m weak. Shaky.
    Nero breaks free. I let fly with the rocks. But I miss. The wolfdogs pace towards me. Ten foot away. Eight. Six.
    One dog in front of me. One on my left. Cold, flat heat in their yellow eyes.
    Nero shrieks an shrieks. He dives. They cower.
    I scream an scream. I fling pebbles an dirt. I throw, they flinch, but they ain’t put off. Suddenly I remember the knife in my boot. I reach fer it. My hands, my tremblin hands.
    They inch towards me. Eyes fixed. Low in their throats, they hum my death.
    Then behind me, from nowhere, a noise an a rush. Before I can move, somethin leaps past me.
    A grey shape. Big. Shaggy. Another wolfdog. A new one.
    This one, this new wolfdog, he flies at the dog on my left. Goes straight fer his throat an bowls him over. Rips his neck open. As blood spills, th’other wolfdog, the one in front of me, attacks the new one. Teeth flash. Dust flies.
    I scramble outta the way.
    The new wolfdog warn’t runnin with the others. He’s a loner. He’s got blue eyes. Light blue eyes.
    That’s rare. I only seen one other before. An he’s in a bad way. Rib-thin, matted fur, an now a bleedin wound on his flank. But he’s fightin like a demon.
    Think, Saba. I need Hermes. If there’s a moment . . . if I git a chance I’ll take it. I’ll take any chance to git away, but I need Hermes here.
    No, no, wait, I cain’t, the dogs might go fer him. So confused. Cain’t think straight. Move, Saba. Jest move! I start to back away, up the ridge. I keep my eyes on the dogs, tearin at each other, fightin to the death.
    Nero screams above.
    A loose rock. My foot slips. I go over. I’m down.
    An I’m slidin. Tumblin. Fallin.
    Back down the slope.
    Straight towards the wolfdogs.

    I’m on my back. Lyin on hard, flat rock. Hot rock. The heat sizzles around me. Cooks me. My bones ache. Eyes heavy. Dry. I squint one open. Too bright. A dull pain throbs at the back of my head.
    I groan.
    Nero croaks. I can feel the weight of him on my stummick.
    The smell of doggy, meaty breath, hot an close. A rough tongue licks my face. My eyes fly open. The blue-eyed wolfdog’s standin over me.
    Ahhh! I scrabble away an leap to my feet. Nero screeches off in a flurry.
    The dog’s backin away, whinin. He stops. He sits, about six foot away. His pink tongue lolls outta his mouth, long an drippin. I frown. Is that – is he . . . smilin at me? Fer the first time, I notice he’s got one droopy ear. The right one.
    Blue eyes. One droopy ear. Jest like Tracker. Mercy’s wolfdog, Tracker. But . . . how can that be? Mercy’s place at Crosscreek must be weeks from here.
    Tracker? I says.
    He stands. Barks twice. Takes a couple of steps towards me. Nero caws from his perch on a nearby rock.
    Tracker! I says. Ohmigawd, Tracker, it’s you! What’re you do—
    A arrow comes whizzin through the air. I dive. Tracker darts away. It jest misses his left flank. I look behind to see who’s shot it.
    It’s Lugh. Standin on the ridge above. He’s about to shoot agin.
    No! I yell. Wait! Don’t shoot!
    Too late. Then Lugh’s leapin down the slope, hollerin an wavin his arms. The arrow bounces offa the rock.
    An I’m yellin, Lugh, stop! It’s okay! Don’t shoot!
    An Nero’s flyin all over the place, screechin an squawkin.
    An Tracker’s gone. I can see him high-tailin it across the Waste.
    Damn, I says. Ow! A sharp twinge in the back of my head. It’s a fair-sized lump an hurts like stink when I give it a prod.
    I freeze. There’s two wolfdogs not more’n ten foot away from