Chill Run (Eddie Barrow 1)

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Chill Run

by Russell Brooks

CHILL RUN

By Russell Brooks

Copyright © 2011 by Russell Brooks

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced in whole or in part, scanned, photocopied, recorded, distributed in any printed or electronic form, or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to anyone. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy or copies. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for honoring the author's work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

13-Digit ISBN: 978-0-9867513-3-2 First Edition eBook

Acknowledgements

I'd like to thank these individuals for which this novel would not have been possible.

My sponsor: Brooks-LaTouche Photography Ltd.

My editors: Victory Crayne, Lisa Martinez.

My book formatters Signe Nichols of FirebirdEbooks.com and Carol Webb of Bella Media Management (who did an excellent job with the cover design).

My family: Stanley and Cynthia Brooks, Gordon Brooks and other immediate family members.

Special mention to my lawyer Howard Barza who helped me fight the good fight for truth and justice.

Fabien Depres, Jerry D. Simmons, Jane Ubell-Meyer, Jeff Rivera, book bloggers, the Rainiacs, and everyone that helped to spread the word.

Prologue

North Hatley, Quebec

Eddie Barrow, Jr. didn't remember feeling the bullet tear into his shoulder. From where he lay on the hardwood floor, the ceiling spun in and out of focus. God, I can't even lift my arms and legs, let alone move my wrists. The bullet may have been small, but he felt that it had blown a hole in him the size of a golf ball. Now a chunk of his shoulder was gone. It was surely splattered on the wall somewhere, oozing towards the floor and leaving a trail of blood and tissue.

Eddie could barely open his eyes, but he heard several voices all at once. It wasn't too long after, that he felt himself lifted onto a slightly softer surface and tied down. The frost gnashed into his cheeks and chin as he felt a wintery wind-chill seconds after being wheeled outside. He caught glimpses of men and women in burgundy jackets, shouting orders and calling out words in French that he barely caught. Eddie soon felt himself being jerked upwards and hoisted into the belly of the ambulance, the doors slammed shut.

The warm air inside was a welcome relief as it chased away the chill on his face. This was followed by the jarring, unpleasant screaming of the siren. Although he was strapped in, he still rocked from side to side as the ambulance raced off.

Through partially opened eyes, he saw one of the burgundy jackets—a woman in her forties—staring down at him.

"Ca va?" You're doing all right? But Eddie was too weak and drowsy to answer. He guessed that's what morphine did to a person. "Soyez fort, mon grand. On est presque là." Be strong, buddy. We're almost there. He felt the patting on his forearm from the paramedic, which gave him some comfort.

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