Slow Burn (Book 7): City of Stin Read Online Free PDF Page B

no room for coming to the surface beneath them.
    The sound of bullet splashes grew faint.
    The helicopter was so loud it was impossible to tell where it was.
    The machine gun fire stopped.
    I pushed on.
    I needed air, but that was nothing new. It seemed like every time I got into the water anymore, I needed to hold my breath way past the point of comfort. I was becoming very familiar with how far past my perceived limits I could actually push myself.
    I was way past the point of protests from my lungs and into that part of oxygen deprivation where my vision was starting to tunnel black around the edges. It was time to surface or drown. I curled into a ball, put my feet in the muck on the lakebed, and exhaled all of my air as I pushed to the surface. I was only going up long enough to suck in some air, then go right back down again.
    My shoulder hit something hard and my head bounced against foam.
    I’d made it to the other dock.
    But I needed air, right now.
    I scrambled through the water, grabbing for the dock’s edge, found it, and pushed my face above the surface. I sucked in my breath, got a quick glimpse at the sky, and went back down again, moving over beneath the dock.
    I found a cable support on the bottom side of the floating structure to hold onto. I needed to keep myself still. I also needed another breath. After holding my breath too long the first time, the second one didn’t last.
    Leaning my head back, I slowly surfaced while holding onto the cable support, putting just my face above the water. I grabbed another deep breath, pushed my luck and took a second, then went back under again.
    I listened.
    The sound of the helicopter’s blades beating the air wasn’t as loud as it had been a few moments before.
    I waited.
    Maybe they were leaving.
    Maybe they were hovering over the house, looking for Murphy. Maybe they were just up higher where they could get a view over a larger area. I had no way to know. I only had a need to breathe, and a hope not to be seen when I surfaced.
    I held my breath as long as I dared.
    Moving slowly, I came out from under the dock and rose to the surface, looking for any movement, any shape against the grayness of the clouds. Nothing.
    I took two more deep breaths and tried to get an idea of where the helicopter was. Somewhere high above the other dock was all I could figure. In fact, a lot higher. They were leaving. I sank myself back below the dock again and listened carefully.
    The sound diminished while I continued to wonder, what were they doing? Did they see the pontoon boat’s wake from where they were flying? Did they come over to check on survivors? They must have been surprised when they saw two Whites on a boat. I wondered what was going through their heads now that they’d gotten past their knee-jerk choice to try and kill us. Were they familiar with Slow Burns and Smart Ones? They must have thought we were both of some dangerous variety of White.
    I needed air.
    I surfaced again and stayed up, looking around.
    The helicopter was at least a mile distant and flying away.

Chapter 7
    When the helicopter was far enough away that I couldn’t hear it over wind and waves I climbed up on the dock and looked around. The boards on the dock near where our boat had been were barbed with splinters where the machine gun’s bullets had ripped through.
    I saw no body on the dock and none floating—good.
    I saw no pontoon boat—bad.
    The bastards had sunk our boat.
    I looked around on the shore, thinking of calling out to Murphy—stupid idea. Any Whites already on their way to investigate the helicopter and machine gun noise would zero in on my voice and I’d soon be running from them instead of finding Murphy. The smart money would have been to hoof it down shore and put some distance between me and the scene of the attack. That was smart if saving my skin was the only thing I was concerned about. So, not an option. Just as I knew Murphy wouldn’t abandon me, I wouldn’t