Last Stand (The Survivalist Book 7) Read Online Free

sang and squirrels darted in the trees overhead as she walked across the gravel lot and down toward the canal. The waterway was perhaps ten or fifteen feet across and shallow enough to walk through if one didn’t mind getting their shoes wet. On the other side, paved trails led down to Fletcher’s Cove, the marina where she had first learned to row.
    As Samantha came up behind him, Tanner glanced back, instinctively reaching for the shotgun by his feet. When he saw her, he smiled.
    “Got us some breakfast.”
    She stepped closer and peered over his shoulder. A large gray and white bird lay at the edge of the water. Tanner had already started plucking some of its feathers, tossing them into the murky green water.
    “What is it?’ she said, eying the bird.
    “What do you mean what is it? It’s a goose.”
    “You killed a goose?”
    “I did.”
    “What for?”
    “To eat, of course.”
    Samantha squatted down next to him and examined the dead animal.
    “Did you shoot it?”
    “Didn’t have to. It brought the fight to me.”
    “So, what… you strangled it?” She looked down at the goose and made a pained expression.
    “No, I didn’t strangle it,” he said, looking slightly offended. “What do you think I am, a barbarian?”
    “Oh, sorry.”
    “I broke its neck, of course.”
    She rolled her eyes. “You’re incorruptible.”
    “I think you mean incorrigible.”
    “That too.” She ran her hands over the soft feathers covering the animal’s neck. It was still warm. “Are you sure it’s safe to eat?”
    “Of course it is.”
    “Because?”
    “Because animals eat other animals. It’s nature’s way.”
    The need to eat animals was a discussion they’d had many times before. And despite her reservations, it usually ended with her picking warm juicy morsels from the bone of some unfortunate little creature. It was, as he said, nature’s way.
    She looked at the hundreds of feathers still covering the bird.
    “Even so, it looks like an awful lot of work.”
    “Hard work makes food taste better. You know that by now. Or you should, anyway.” He slid the bird closer to her. “Now quit your yapping, and give me a hand.”
    She grabbed one of the large feathers and gave it a quick tug the way she had seen him do. It pulled free. Not knowing what else to do with it, she tossed it into the water. The fluffy trail of feathers drifted along the canal like ghostly white canoes down the River Iss.
    When they had finished plucking the larger feathers, they began pulling out handfuls of the finer down. Samantha had an easier time of it because her hands were small enough to get a good grip on the soft feathers. When they had plucked all but the very finest tufts, Tanner grabbed the bird by its feet and lifted it into the air.
    “We’ll singe off the small stuff when we get back to the house. You got your knife?”
    “Of course,” she said, reaching around to pull a small fixed-blade knife from the sheath that ran horizontally along the back of her belt.
    “Good. Use it to take the wings off.”
    She fanned a wing out, felt around for the shoulder joint and used her knife to cut it in two. When the wing came free, she gently set it on the ground and repeated the process on the other side. Thankfully, there were only the slightest dabs of blood at the joints.
    Tanner raised the bird a little higher.
    “Now the head.”
    Samantha reached down and cupped the head with her left hand. She placed the edge of the blade about midway up the neck.
    “Here?”
    “A little closer to the body. With all this meat, we’re not likely to eat the neck.”
    She cringed. “You can eat a neck?”
    “You can as long as you’re willing to get your teeth down in it.”
    She stuck her tongue out. “Gross.” Without further protest, she began to saw the blade through thick cords of muscle and bone. It was harder than she had expected, but she finally pushed through the other side. Placing the head on the ground, she said,