Another mile and I should be at the bend. That will put me within sight of Blanton and the falls. I have to paddle harder. The splash behind me has to be Nelson and his crew. Thank god this river is too shallow for a motor or he would really have me.


That wasnt a paddle. I quickly glance back. Shit. They are shooting now. One of Nelsons goons tried to level his pistol toward me. The boat rocked in the swift moving water.

I swung my paddle harder. Left. Right. Left. Right. I heard rhe grind of a canoe on rock. That had to be them. I could hear the zing of a bullet go past me.

Then the current caught me again. What will I do when I get near town? Will they care or shoot anyway?

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