Resolution: Evan Warner Book 1 Read Online Free

his arms. His legs bowed out to avoid stepping on the kid, slowing him temporarily. The boy went limp as he fell and rolled raggedly across the pavement, rolling toward me. The guy made a final lunge for the van.
    But he was too late. It was already over.
    Had he dropped the kid a second or two sooner, he might have had a chance. But nerves were working against him. Then hesitation slowed him. And finally the millisecond he wasted stepping wide of the boy sealed his fate. In the space of a few seconds the odds had taken a drastic swing. Now everything was in Frank’s favor. Speed and strength and momentum were his. The aggressor was reduced to a victim in waiting.
    Frank skipped easily over the fallen boy, like he was a mere contour in the road. He landed, compressed, his muscles flexed, he sprang up and stretched out wide as he became airborne, and with a happy roar he brought his target crashing down. All two hundred of his pounds hit the guy like a battering ram. The guy flopped onto his side a few feet short of the van. There was a sharp slap of bone against pavement. Frank skipped past him. Spun and then stood over him triumphantly. His tail whirled like a wooly windmill.
    I saw the van’s taillights go out. Heard the engine revving. The nose came up as it started fast up the road with the tires lightly chirping. It was out of reach. Beyond my control. I slowed as I neared the fallen guy. Just in time to see brake lights flash again. The tires screeched briefly and the van skidded into a tree with a definitive crunch.
    Out of my control. Now out of commission.
    Over my breathing I heard shouting up ahead. Then a thundering boom-click-boom . Two blasts of a 12-gauge Mossberg. Less than fifty yards away. The shots echoed and rolled under the canopy of trees like a freight train in a tunnel. My father had sent two rubber slugs through the driver’s side window. The driver spilled out of the van and dropped to the ground.
    Game over.
    I looked down at the scrawny guy. He was a few steps in front of me now. He rolled over slowly, away from Frank, and instinctively tried to get to his feet. I slowed my pace to a brisk walk. He looked up at me just as I reached him. I kept stride and planted my left foot firmly, swung my right leg fast and put the rubber toecap of my right hiking boot hard into his abdomen. There was an instant guttural sound and he curled himself up tight in response to the pain.
    “Dad!” I called. I couldn’t see him clearly because of the foliage and the bends in the road.
    “I got him!” came his reply.
    I knelt down by the scrawny guy. Glanced quickly over my shoulder at the kid. A woman was approaching him. I looked back to my prisoner as I took the duct tape from my belt. I was breathing hard from the sprint and the adrenalin. My pulse was drumming hard. The guy was cowering away from me. He started saying, “No, no,” like he was afraid I was going to kick him again. I told him to shut up and hold still. He complied. The best decision he’d made all day. He was groaning but offered no physical resistance as I pulled at his arms and legs and hogtied him with the tape. I wasn’t gentle about it. Not particularly cruel either. Just moving quickly and efficiently to get him secured so that I could move on to the next guy.
    People were gathering around by the time I stood up. Now that the gunshots had faded, there was a rising hum of anxious voices from every direction. Dozens of voices. Stressed and asking questions.
    Frank was still standing in the same spot. Wagging his tail and looking around hopefully for someone else to chase. He was the calmest of us all.
    I gave him a quick pat and ignored everyone like a horse wearing blinders and took a few deep breaths as I walked over to where my father was holding the driver at gunpoint.
    The guy was kneeling with his hands loosely raised. He was older than the runner, with white hairs in his close-cut beard. He was bigger and bulkier and he had tiny