Those Who Wish Me Dead
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The newest thriller from Michael Koryta, New York Times bestselling author
When 13-year-old Jace Wilson witnesses a brutal murder, he's plunged into a new life, issued a false identity and hidden in a wilderness skills program for troubled teens. The plan is to get Jace off the grid while police find the two killers. The result is the start of a nightmare.
The killers, known as the Blackwell Brothers, are slaughtering anyone who gets in their way in a methodical quest to reach him. Now all that remains between them and the boy are Ethan and Allison Serbin, who run the wilderness survival program; Hannah Faber, who occupies a lonely fire lookout tower; and endless miles of desolate Montana mountains.
The clock is ticking, the mountains are burning, and those who wish Jace Wilson dead are no longer far behind.
The wind freshened and blew at them warm and dusty from its journey over dry terrain. There was a thickness to it, a humidity that felt misplaced in the high mountains, and Ethan knew there was a storm behind it. The days had been too hot and too dry for too long this early in the summer. It had fed the fires, and now rain would come in and maybe help, maybe hurt. A good drenching downpour would be a blessing to the firefighters; a lightning storm might be a disaster. This wind did not feel as if
how it was that this was a surprise to her, because of course they were not men who let you walk away; it was not enough for you to be burned and beaten. They meant to put you in the ground, and she wasn’t there yet. There was a scream in her throat when the door opened wider, and then it stopped again and there was something so tentative in its motion that she was certain it didn’t belong to either Jack or Patrick, her last nocturnal visitors. They moved in unusual ways, but never tentatively.
earlier. For the first time since she’d left the hospital, Allison thought about the possibility of meeting up with the men who’d so calmly entered her house in the night and heated tongs in the stove to burn her flesh. They’d been specters before, plausible but not yet near. Now, seeing the crime-scene tape, she could see them again, hear them. Smell them. Jamie Bennett didn’t even pause at the tape, just drove right through it, bowing it inward until it went taut and snapped and then it was
He blinked again and wet his lips and shifted against the tree and felt the pain from a hundred different places. It was enough to bring him to a stop. He took a few deep breaths and then said the hell with it. She’d know the full story in time, she’d know the way they found him, Luke Bowden or someone would tell her. Wait—Luke was dead. Good Lord, Luke was dead. Ethan had found the body; how had he forgotten that? Now others would find his, and then they would go tell the story. Hats off and
without so much as offering us one.” “Didn’t appear to be his last beverage either. So the opportunity for the offer is there, certainly. And still it hasn’t been made.” Jack shook his head, looking at his brother. “You think this goes back a while? The lack of manners?” “You’re suggesting his parents are to blame? That it was learned behavior?” Patrick pursed his lips, giving the matter due consideration. “We can’t say that with any level of certainty. But it’s possible. It’s possible.” “Hey,