The Shoals by Corey Gannon EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Name: The Shoals
- Author: Corey Gannon
- Language: English
- Genre: Sea Adventures Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Pine Island
MALUS WOKE up partially buried on a rocky. He remembered
swimming and letting the waves roll him onto the sand before he had
passed out in exhaustion and pain and rage some time before. His hair and
clothes were soaked and salty, and he was bleeding from a cut on his
forehead and a wound on his right side. He pushed himself onto his back,
then sat up toward the water. The sky above him was still overcast and gray,
and the sun had begun to descend. Toward the sea, he counted ten ships
with bone white sails on the horizon.
Smoke still rose in the air to their
north. Tall, red-barked pine trees and scrub blocked his view behind him,
past the gray shore. Each inhale filled his side with pain. Blood showed
through his shirt. His boots and his weapons and many other parts of his life
were gone. He stared at the ships sailing southwest and away from him.
Some crabs that had anticipated a meal withdrew to the wet rocks
behind them as Malus stood up. His stomach revolted against the motion,
and he threw up salty liquid. It inflamed his right side. Still, the bleeding
was not bad, and although most of his body hurt, his joints seemed to work.
He needed to determine where he was and find a weapon and a boat to the
mainland. But first, he needed water.
Malus had been wounded before, but he was not used to being alone
and vulnerable. He scanned the tree line a hundred feet away from him. The
gray sand on the beach mixed with black dirt almost to the water, and damp
pine needles covered everything but rocks and thick ferns farther inland.
There were no tracks, and the only sound was the breeze through the pines.
Malus walked slowly into the trees on bare feet. His mind cleared as he
moved. The air was heavy and damp. There were no sounds but the trees
and the waves. No birds. No tracks. Pine needles and dead branches were
scattered and piled as high as his knees in some spots. There was no smell
but the seaweed that marked the limit of high tide and the forest’s cycle of
birth and decay. Malus felt himself moving as warily as a lost fawn.
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