By John Connolly
Years after the bloodbath that burnt up a colony of settlers at the small Maine island of Sanctuary, rookie officer Sharon Macy and policeman Joe Dupree group as much as guard the island's citizens from a band of vengeful killers.
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Extra info for Bad Men: A Thriller
The old man was always making sketches while the line dangled unthreateningly, his hand working quickly with charcoals as he added another perspective to his seemingly endless series of representations of the landscape. There weren’t too many people living over on this side of the island. It was too exposed for some. Sheep sorrel, horseweed, and highbush blackberry colonized patches of waste or open ground, but mostly it was just trees, the island’s forest petering out as it drew closer to the cliffs.
There is a boy in his arms, no more than fifteen years of age. He is struggling against his captor’s grasp, his cries stifled by the native’s large hand. His feet kick impotently at the air. One of the Mi’kmaq follows, holding the boy’s musket. He has been apprehended before he can fire off a warning shot. Moloch approaches, and the boy stops kicking as he recognizes the face before him. He shakes his head, and tries to utter words. The native releases his hand from the boy’s mouth but keeps a knife pressed to his throat so that he does not cry out.
Yes,” he said. “I did. It was in pain and it could not be saved. ” But the boy was already running back to the house, back to his mother, and the wind carried his cries to the giant as he stood on their neatly trimmed lawn. Gently, he cupped the dead gull in his right hand and carried it away to the treeline, where he dug a small hole with the edge of a stone and covered the little thing in earth and leaves, placing the stone at last upon the mound. When he rose again, the boy’s mother was walking toward him across the lawn, the boy clinging to her, shielded by her body.
Bad Men: A Thriller by John Connolly