Night Resurrected

Night Resurrected by Joss Ware Read Free Book Online

Book: Night Resurrected by Joss Ware Read Free Book Online
Authors: Joss Ware
Tags: paranormal romance, Dystopian Future
were
    the ones who could help her?
    Remy happened to glance over the
    trees lining the edge of the pond at that
    moment, and stopped paddling. Flipping
    into an upright position in the water, she
    shielded her eyes against the sun,
    squinting as she looked at the circle of
    birds. Large birds, like vultures.
    Circling. Diving.
    Definitely
    something
    worth
    investigating—it could be someone or
    some animal, injured.
    She splashed out of the water and
    dressed quickly. Her clothes were still
    damp, but she had clean underthings and
    they were dry. Stuffing everything into
    her pack, she put her shoes on and
    started off to where the birds of prey
    were gathered.
    As she walked, she reoriented
    herself. The truck cab was to her right,
    to the south—near an old highway
    signpost that still thrust up above the
    trees; an excellent landmark—and the
    birds were ahead, to the east. By the
    time Remy found her way, she estimated
    she was no more than three miles from
    her camp.
    When she came upon it, as she
    expected, the sight wasn’t a pretty one.
    Whoever it was had been dead long
    enough for maggots to hatch and other
    insects to find their way to fresh meat.
    But not more than a day or two.
    She chased the birds away, her
    stomach roiling a little as she came
    close enough to see the corpse. A man.
    What was left of his skin was pale and
    bloated, but his hair was dark. His feet
    were bare, his clothing half picked away
    by creatures trying to get to flesh.
    Remy looked around the area. It
    wasn’t a clearing so much as a space
    beneath three trees. It didn’t appear to be
    a campsite, per se. But a pair of decrepit
    hiking boots sitting to the side caught her
    attention, and, setting her pack down, she
    went over to them.
    As she knelt to pick them up, her
    breath caught. She knew these boots.
    One of the laces was twine, the other
    had no laces at all but were held closed
    at the top by a piece of wire. They were
    easy to recognize because they’d been
    slit over the toes on the left foot and the
    soles were trashed, hardly wearable
    anymore. He’d been complaining about
    them for a while.
    Ian Marck’s boots.
    In her haste to examine the body
    again, Remy tripped, nearly tumbling
    back to the ground when she launched
    herself to her feet. But she righted
    herself and went back over, slowing a
    few steps away—just as hesitant to
    approach this time. Her heart thudded in
    her chest.
    She knew it wasn’t her former
    lover’s body lying there, picked away
    like carrion. No, but she had to assure
    herself of it anyway.
    Because if it wasn’t Ian’s body, but
    his boots were here . . . that meant Ian
    was still alive. He’d somehow survived
    the beating from Seattle’s friends, and
    the fall over a cliff.
    He’d been here. He’d probably
    exchanged boots with the dead man. He
    could have killed the dead man.
    He could still be around.
    As if she conjured him up, there was
    a sharp crackle in the woods behind her.
    Remy whirled, grabbing for her gun.
    Chapter 3
    “T his is the third time you’ve pointed a
    weapon at me,” Wyatt said, stepping into
    view. “It’s starting to get old.”
    Remy lowered the gun. “Then don’t
    keep sneaking up on me.”
    “I didn’t sneak up on you the first
    time. When you shot at me.” He walked
    over to the dead body. “What do we
    have here?”
    “I warned you not to move, and you
    did. And for the last time, I didn’t shoot
    at you. I shot above your shoulder. Just
    where I aimed.”
    “Someday,” he said, crouching next
    to the body, “I’m going to have you
    prove what a sharpshooter you claim to
    be.”
    “I’m not going to waste my
    ammunition in order to soothe your
    ruffled man feathers,” she replied,
    tucking the gun back into her jeans.
    “If you’re as good as you claim, it
    would only be a single bullet. Right?”
    Remy rolled her eyes and gestured to
    the body. “Any idea what killed him?” If
    it had been Ian, it would be something
    quick

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