Читать онлайн «A Darkness Absolute»
Автор Келли Армстронг
Begin Reading
Table of Contents
About the Author
Copyright Page
Thank you for buying this
St. Martin’s Press ebook.
To receive special offers, bonus content,
and info on new releases and other great reads,
sign up for our newsletters.
Or visit us online at
ONE
We’ve been tracking Shawn Sutherland for almost two hours when the blizzard strikes. That’s the common phrasing. A storm hits. A blizzard strikes. Like a left hook out of nowhere. Except that’s not how it usually happens. There’s always warning. The wind picks up. The sky darkens. At the very least, you sense a weight in the air. When the snow starts, you might curse at the suddenness of it, but you know it wasn’t sudden at all.
This blizzard is different. Deputy Will Anders and I are roaring along on our snowmobiles, following a clear set of footprints in newly fallen snow. I’m glad Sutherland’s prints are obvious, because it’s such a gorgeous day, I struggle to focus on my task. The sun glitters off snow and ice as I whip along, taking my corners a little too tight, playing with the machine, enjoying the ride on what has become a rather routine task.
Rockton is a secret off-the-grid town, a safe haven for people in hiding.
If a resident keeps his head down and doesn’t cause trouble, we don’t notice him. Until last month, that was Sutherland. Then the first snow came, and he snapped, declaring that he wasn’t spending another winter in this town. He’s run twice since then. Our boss—Sheriff Eric Dalton—warned Sutherland that if it happened again, he would spend the winter in the jail cell instead. Protecting citizens is our responsibility, even when it means protecting them from themselves.Yesterday, Dalton flew to Dawson City on a supply run and, yep, Sutherland bolted again. But he’s too afraid of the forest to actually leave the path, which makes him very easy to track after a light snowfall. Hell, I’d have taken the horses instead if Dalton wasn’t due back before nightfall; I need Sutherland caught by then. Given that the sun starts setting midafternoon, we don’t have much time.
We’re ripping along when I catch sight of a dark shape ahead. Anders doesn’t see it—he’s gawking at something to the left, and I flip up my visor to shout at him. Then I see what he does: a wall of white. It’s on us before I can react, a cyclone of driving snow and roaring wind, and I hit the brakes so hard my ass shoots off the seat and nearly sends me face-first through the windshield.
The sled’s back slides—right into a tree. I curse, but on a path this narrow, striking a tree is damn near inevitable. I’m just lucky
