Stand Your Ground Read Online Free PDF Page B

done some favors for?
    He had gone to work in a prison, running the library. It made sense in a perverse way. Who would think to look for a deserter and fugitive in a place like this?
    â€œSo I take it the novel’s not going well?” Kincaid asked as he leaned back in his chair.
    â€œI keep getting sidetracked by the characters. I know the readers don’t really care about all that backstory. They just want the survivors in the moon colony to blow away the zombies that were infected by the alien virus. I’ve got to get that out of the way so the girl can go ahead and fall in love with the guy who’s a vampire.”
    â€œYou’re making all this up,” Kincaid said. “That’s not what the story is really about.”
    â€œAuthors shouldn’t talk about their work in progress. It ruins the spontaneity.”
    Kincaid chuckled and shook his head.
    â€œSorry, but you’re gonna have to get back to it later. There are books that need to be shelved.”
    Simon sighed and said, “All right. I guess my muse will just have to wait.” He stood up and came over to the counter to pick up a stack of books that had been turned back in. “I’ll bet your backstory is pretty interesting, Mr. Kincaid.”
    â€œYou’d lose,” Kincaid said. “My life is boring as hell.”

CHAPTER 5
    Stark had made arrangements with George Baldwin to visit Hell’s Gate on Sunday afternoon, so that meant he had Saturday to himself. He’d never been that fond of fast-food breakfasts, but there was a café within walking distance of the motel, so he strolled over there to get an actual breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes that wasn’t mass-produced, washed down with plenty of coffee. His appetite had come back as his health improved, and he was glad of that. He had always liked good food.
    When he got back to the motel, he went into the office and found the owner’s wife behind the counter.
    â€œHello, Mrs. Patel,” Stark said. “I was wondering what there is to do around here.”
    The woman gave him a weak smile and said, “Nothing, I’m afraid, Mr. Stark. There is nothing in Fuego to interest a tourist.”
    â€œLooks like I’m going to be here until Monday. Any suggestions how to pass the time?”
    â€œWe have satellite TV.”
    â€œThanks. Maybe I’ll just walk around town for a while.”
    â€œAll right. Do you need anything for your room? Some . . . some ice, maybe?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m good.”
    As a matter of fact, Stark had filled up a bucket with ice as soon as he checked in, but he hadn’t used any of it. It was probably melted by now. But he could always get some more later.
    Stark left the motel and started walking up Main Street. In boots, jeans, a long-sleeved khaki shirt, and straw Stetson, he looked right at home here in Fuego. Other than being tall, with an impressive spread of shoulders, there wasn’t much to make anybody look twice at him.
    That was the way he liked it. He’d had his share of being famous. More than his share. First that war with the cartel that had taken Elaine’s life, then that crazy business at the Alamo, and finally, when he’d tried to retire and actually live a quiet life, more trouble had cropped up at Shady Hills, the mobile home community where he had moved after selling his ranch.
    He’d had his face plastered all over the TV news and the Internet, and he didn’t like it. Luckily, enough time had passed so that he didn’t get recognized all that much anymore. Maybe there would come a day when nobody except his friends knew who he was, and that would be just fine with John Howard Stark.
    But it wasn’t going to be today. He was standing in front of a hardware store looking at some riding lawn mowers parked there on the sidewalk when a police car pulled up at the curb.
    The man who got out wore brown uniform