The Shepherd Read Online Free PDF

escape.
    He heard one of the men behind them rhythmically slapping what sounded like a baseball bat into an open hand. Another man standing to the right of Glenn held a tire iron at his side. He counted two others with Glenn, for a total of five. He knew that at least two of the group carried weapons, and the others could possess knives, fist-packs, brass knuckles, or worse.
    “You big-city boys think you’re so damn smart. I’m sick to death of people like you comin’ here and thinking that we’re all just a bunch of stupid hicks who can’t read or write or tie our damn shoes. Well, I’ve got some news for ya. We’ve got a few things we’d like to teach you, and class is now in session.”
    Marcus had to think fast. He only had a few seconds before the men were upon him. He knew that, even if their intention was only to rough him up, the confrontation could easily escalate from assault to manslaughter. He also realized that, once they were finished with him, they wouldn’t just let Maggie walk away unscathed. The angry mob mentality could be a powerful force.
    Adrenaline surged through his veins, the same kind of adrenaline that allowed a mother to lift a car off her trapped child. He grabbed a corner of a nearby dumpster and threw all of his weight into it. The dumpster was almost empty, and the wheels were unobstructed. This allowed him to spin it into the path of the two men coming at him from one end of the alley, blocking their approach.
    He gently pushed Maggie toward one wall and moved to the opposite side. He wanted to draw the attackers away and shield her from the fight as much as possible.
    He turned back to face the two men coming from the other direction. He figured Glenn for a coward and had theorized that the big talker would let his friends do his dirty work. He saw that he had been right.
    The first man landed flat on the pavement as Marcus’s foot struck him in the chest, knocking him off his feet and sending him plummeting toward the earth, dazed but not unconscious. The second man attacked and landed a hard blow with the tire iron into Marcus’s side.
    He stumbled and almost fell to his knees. The pain shot up his spine, but he willed it away. He didn’t have time to feel pain.
    He swung back around on the second attacker and threw the entire weight of his body into a massive, locomotive punch aimed dead center of the man’s pudgy face. The heavyset man also landed on his back, but he wouldn’t be getting up without the aid of smelling salts.
    The first man attempted to pull himself off the ground, but hopes of rejoining the battle crumbled away as a foot hammered into the side of his head.
    Glenn hung back, shuffling from one side of the alleyway to the other. Marcus wondered whether the big talker was waiting for him to lie down on the ground and take his beating with quiet dignity.
    By now, the thugs from the other side of the alley had bypassed their obstacle. He grabbed the tire iron lying beside the unconscious attacker. Knowing that its reach wouldn’t compare to that of the baseball bat, he hurled it at the man holding the wooden weapon.
    The iron found its mark but didn’t deal a crushing blow. The momentary distraction served its purpose, however, and allowed him to overtake the bat-wielding aggressor before the man could swing. He grabbed the fat end of the bat with his left hand and sent his right cutting through the air and into the man’s face.
    The dazed attacker released the bat but still landed a blow into Marcus’s side.
    He tensed, and the man quickly landed another punch into the side of his head. He stumbled back but retaliated with a hard jab of his newly acquired Kirby Puckett-signed Louisville Slugger.
    The blow knocked the man cold.
    In his mind, since Glenn seemed to be more of a spectator than an attacker, only one opponent remained. The last man eyed him warily, looking for an opening.
    He tightened his grip on the bat. “Better be sure.”
    The man hesitated