Search and Destroy Read Online Free PDF Page A

is a crimson mask, blood streaming from a deep gash on his forehead. His eyes warn of more violence.
    “You all right?” asks Danny.
    “Better than these fuckers.” Clay grins, showing bloodstained teeth. “Come on, time to vamoose.”
    The brothers walk home. None of the gang follow. Danny stops to vomit but Clay pays him no heed; just everyday business for the Ranger, new business for his brother.
    Danny Gunn became untouchable. One month later he was wearing the uniform of a British soldier.
    * * *
    Danny smiled at his recollections and held his beer aloft. “Here’s to easy livin’ and big-titted women.”
    “A big Ay-men to that.”
    Both men jumped as a bloody hand slapped against the window.

6
    Andrea’s hand slid down the window, leaving a smudge of crimson. She could hear curses from the occupants of the RV, then silence. As she drew level with the side door, it flew open with force. She tripped over her own feet as she tried to avoid getting a face full of aluminium. As she sprawled in the dirt, a man’s silhouette filled the doorway—a large man. A huge, silver-plated revolver reflected the light from within as it was pointed directly at her.
    Andrea, her voice barely audible, managed only a weak “Help…”
    The man stepped out into the cool night air, bulging arm muscles tensed. Over six foot, he had close-cropped blond hair over a deeply tanned and weathered face. Andrea watched, frozen, as he dropped into a slight crouch. He took his eyes from her, sweeping the gun slowly over her head, eyes darting, as if he was straining to see into the darkness, to find a threat. After nearly ten seconds he once again dropped his eyes to her, then lowered his weapon towards the ground at an oblique angle.
    “What the hell happened to you, gal?”
    The only response she could give was to point into the darkness.
    The man slipped the revolver into the waistband of his jeans and scooped her up as if she weighed no more than a child. As he turned to the Winnebago, another man appeared from the shadows to the rear of the vehicle. He was far shorter and leaner, and held a knife in one hand.
    The first man spoke. “What have you got there?”
    “Steak knife. Snagged it from the kitchen and came out the side window. Done a sweep—seems clean. Didn’t want us falling for the ‘damsel-in-distress-turns-hijack’ ploy.”
    The first man grunted with what sounded like approval, then carried Andrea into the Winnebago, putting her gently down on a plush seat alongside a dining table. She looked up at her rescuer. Dark-blue eyes, intense but not unkind, stared back at her from a deeply weathered face. The man towered over her, his head nearly touching the ceiling of the motorhome. The smaller but equally intense-looking man stood behind him, dark-haired and lean, a first-aid box open in his hands.
    The larger man brushed hair slicked with drying blood from her face. “What’s your name? Can you tell me what happened to you?”
    She tried to talk but the only sound that escaped was a high-pitched whine. Her throat felt like it was filled with gravel and broken glass.
    “Here, drink some of this,” the smaller man pushed a tumbler of water towards her. Andrea gulped down the liquid, spilling a large quantity down her chin.
    The big man spoke again. “I’m Clay. This is my brother, Danny. Now I need to lift your shirt to check where all of this blood is coming from. Okay?”
    Andrea nodded, her face a mix of fear, shock and confusion.
    He peeled back the fabric of her shirt. The material was crusted with blood and dirt and clung to her skin like an old Band-Aid. Andrea winced as a sliver of pain shot across her ribs. She looked down at countless scrapes and bruises that decorated her midsection. A deep laceration covered a four-inch patch below her right breast. Splinters of wood were embedded in the flesh from the tree she’d encountered halfway down the hill. The big man gently removed her laptop bag from around