Read Mega #02 Baja Blood for Free Online Page B

shortened legs, but he’d refused out of pride. He felt like an idiot for that decision as he could have used the extra speed right then. But that was a worry best left for when he got out of the water.
    And Bart actually believed that was possible as he rose higher and higher, his arms screaming with exhaustion.
    He spread his fingers as wide as possible in the hand fins, hoping for more lift, but it didn’t matter, his muscles were nearly spent. The cocaine bubbles continued to burst around him and he almost wished he could get some, if just for the energy boost.
    But none of that mattered, not the exhausted muscles or the fanciful coke wishes, because from his right side came a nightmare. He was so focused on swimming, and waiting for the attack from below, that he never even saw the shark that came at him from the side. The shark hit him at full speed and Bart felt his pelvis shatter, his ribs crack, his flesh tear from bone.
    Water streamed into his lungs as the rebreather mouthpiece fell away from his lips and the bright red of his life drained quickly into the ocean, turning the cocaine clouds from white to pink.
     
    ***
     
    “What the hell do the cartels want with a mom and her two little kids?” Max asked as he kept the Wrangler at a safe following distance from the black pickup.
    “I don’t know,” Shane replied. “Kinda weird, though, that this John Sherman guy is recruited by another ex-SEAL and now a cartel hit squad is tailing his wife.”
    “Ex-wife,” Max corrected.
    “Yeah, you’re counting on that, aren’t you?” Shane smiled.
    “Fuck you, bro, she was a nice lady,” Max said.
    “And she didn’t freak at your horrid appearance?” Shane asked.
    “Fuck you, Patchy McPatcherson,” Max responded. “She did not.”
    Shane shrugged. “Yeah, she’s probably seen worse. She was married to a SEAL who got his legs blown off. Makes your lack of an ear and melty skin kinda weak.”
    “Hey, my melty skin is plenty scary, dude,” Max said. “Don’t knock the fear factor my face has.”
    “Are you taking pride in your hideousness now?” Shane laughed.
    “I am a unique human being,” Max said. “I am beautiful because I exist.”
    “What the fuck is that?”
    “Some self-help book Aunt Marsha sent me when I first got back from Afghanistan,” Max replied. “It really helped me with those rough few nights.”
    “Dude, some fat bowls of Northern California Lime Haze is what got you through those nights,” Shane countered.
    “Oh, right,” Max smiled. “Speaking of…”
    “Got it right here,” Shane said as he opened the glove compartment and grabbed a box of rifle cartridges.
    He opened the box and picked out one of the cartridges. He unscrewed the “bullet” and tipped the cartridge. Out came a very thick joint. He flipped the joint to his mouth, catching it easily between his lips despite the wind that whipped into the open topped Wrangler, fished for a lighter in his pocket, then sparked the joint, drawing deeply.
    “Nothing like following a cartel pickup while smoking a fatty,” Shane said, smoke billowing from his nostrils.
    Max reached for the joint, but Shane took another drag before handing it to him.
    “Jesus, bro, you hogged half of this,” Max said, looking at the joint before taking his own long drag. He coughed a little then let the smoke slowly escape from his mouth.
    “It was a stressful morning,” Shane said, tapping his eye patch. “Turns out you can’t grow eyes back. Who fucking knew, right?”
    “Fucking medical system,” Max said, taking another drag. “Thanks, Obama.”
    “Damn liberals not being able to let me regenerate my eyeball,” Shane said. “I blame all the pot they smoke.”
    “Damn skippy, dude,” Max coughed.
    “Whoa,” Shane said. “Where are they going?”
    “The freeway,” Max replied. “Shit.”
    “Get up closer,” Shane said. “Fuck being casual. If they are going to do more than just follow, they’ll do it on the