Voodoo Soldiers (Matt Drake #26) by David Leadbeater
English | 2020 | Mystery/Thriller| ePUB | 2.9 Mb
David Leadbeater is the Amazon Award Winning author of twenty three Kindle International Bestsellers, seventeen in the Matt Drake action/adventure series.
Join Matt Drake and his team in the fight of their lives . . .
In a new world, Drake and the SPEAR team, no longer attached to Special Forces, have separated to avoid their enemies. An unhappy Alicia Myles finds the wild and raucous streets of the French Quarter of New Orleans a welcome distraction. Drake heads for the wilderness of Colorado, whilst Hayden joins friends in LA, only to arrive as old rivals carry out a revenge attack.
But it’s Alicia who finds herself in more trouble than she can handle.
Marinette has a dark and carnal reputation. She lives in Black Snake Swamp, a legendary no-go area for locals. She smuggles guns, people and drugs, and indulges her need for fresh body parts. But this is only the tip of the iceberg. Marinette has a more sinister master—Baron Samedi, the Voodoo God of the Dead.
And the great ceremony is coming—a vision of Hell in which the SPEAR team, captured and drugged, conscious but coerced, will be forced to take part.
Against their will, they have already worshipped Marinette, but now stand ready to do the ultimate bidding of the Voodoo Witch Queen of New Orleans as hypnotic fires rage, forbidden rituals begin, and the Voodoo Soldiers rise up from their graves . . .
Cold, fresh air blasted his face. The mountains rose ahead, framing the borders of the town, distant and rising to craggy heights topped with snow. The further he walked the quieter it became. Drake followed a trail out of town, striding past a parking lot that appeared to act as a last outpost, and then disappearing among thick stands of trees. The smells of plants and trees, of decaying loam and passing animals, reached his nostrils. The sun disappeared beyond a high canopy, glimmering intermittently through treetops. Drake pulled his jacket tighter around him.
An hour later, he left the beaten track.
The going got harder. Drake found himself scrambling down slopes, wading through streams and pulling himself up steep, earthy banks. Despite the cold, he started to sweat. It was good, hard work and he found himself enjoying the honesty of it. He paused in the late afternoon for a drink of water, sitting atop a fallen tree with thick shrubbery all around.
The world shrouded him in deathly silence.
It was so far beyond the norm that, at first, he disliked it. The norm was Alicia, Dahl and Mai and the others, all chatting or fighting alongside him or figuring out new moves. It was constant noise and banter. It was perpetual danger. Out here in Colorado the silence, the peace and safety . . . was ridiculously unnerving.
Drake shrugged it off and continued, using a compass to follow a map in his head. If once he faltered, he would consult the map he’d bought but, for now, all was well.
Darkness descended on his first night out in the wild.
Drake found a clearing and pitched his tent. He didn’t plan to use it every night, but since this was his first, he decided at least a little comfort was in order. Once the tent was ready, he built a small fire—he’d already checked and there were no current fire bans in place across Colorado—and sat on a tree stump to eat a cold meal. The shadows grew long, and darkness deepened. Drake held his hands out toward the flickering flames. A branch snapped inside the fire, making him blink.
When he looked around utter darkness had fallen, shadows creeping through the surrounding trees like silent mercenaries, arranged around him like menacing guards. At 10 p.m. he crept into his tent, fixed the flashlight to a hook and turned it on before pulling his backpack across the ground sheet toward him. Inside, he dug around for a phone, his gun, the Grizzly knife, and the bourbon. He took two hits of the alcohol and fell asleep.
The next morning was cold and silent as it dawned over the high peaks of Colorado. Drake woke, feeling tired and alone, wondering for the millionth time if he was doing the right thing. But worrying didn’t help. He exited the tent, revived the fire, and dug through his camping supplies before boiling a pot of coffee over the campfire—a home luxury he just couldn’t do without.