Even The Dead Will Bleed: A Dave Pulaski Thriller Audiobook

Music and credits.

The dream is always the same. Holly trembling on the cave floor, her hands imploring me to prevent what we both know can’t be stopped. And me unable to get to her because my feet are sawed off at the ankles…

Since arriving in LA, I’d slept poorly because of my nightmare. And also, well… I’ll get to that in a minute…

When you’re paranoid, everything looks like a threat. I’d picked this building because of its underground parking, and I got lucky…

I drove through the wetness of an El Niño rain to Holy Grounds for an Ojo Rojo. Although the coffee with espresso was irresistible, I made it a point not to come every day…

She lay strapped to the gurney, moaning and writhing—a large woman with poofy hair, bad teeth, and way too much blue eye shadow. A gray patient blanket covered everything but her head…

It was pouring rain, and my insides ached. Though I’d prepared myself for this day, I was scared—not of dying but of failing. My legs were stiff, and I wanted to vomit…

We sat at a wobbly card table in the back room. The area was stacked with boxes of dark-roasted beans, cups, and other supplies. The pleasant coffee aroma made me crave another Ojo Rojo, but I was anxious to leave…

My plan was simple—find Walt Freeman and kill him. I didn’t care that I was walking into a death trap. The hate I carried had eaten away everything soft, everything warm…

Standing, I opened fire as the guard radioed for backup. He wasn’t wearing body armor and went down easily, his shirt bright with blood…

The rain had stopped. The girl opened her eyes as I pulled into a parking lot in Montebello. Disoriented, she didn’t seem to remember how she’d ended up in my truck and stared at me…

A black Escalade barreled towards us, swerving dangerously around vehicles to catch up. In minutes, we’d gone from calmness to staring down death…

After arriving in LA, I’d purchased several fake IDs from a guy on Alvarado Street who Guthrie recommended. Now that Mr. Callahan was on record with the police, I needed a new identity…

I stared at the street through the parking garage gate. The engine was off, and it was cold inside the Tahoe. I’d already texted Cuco to let him know I was driving a new vehicle…

My stomach did a somersault when I heard that name. I thought of the trashy admin I’d seen in Tres Marias and again at Hellborn. I should’ve killed her when I had the chance…

The departing rain left behind an eerie mist. The sky was thick with clouds, and the streetlights strained to light the way…

I got off the elevator, carrying the weight of the dead boy on my shoulders. Though there was nothing I could’ve done to save him, searing guilt ate at me like cancer…

Sasha had retreated to the bedroom. Now she was standing next to me. How much had she heard? It didn’t matter…

An explosion of glass rained down as a gray-suit lumbered through the window. I shot him point-blank. The blast knocked him back. But it didn’t kill him because of his body armor…

Icy rain fell like boning knives as we pulled up to the gate. Careful not to tear open my wound, I climbed out and approached a gray keypad fastened to a metal post. I punched in the code…

Cuco tidied up the kitchen while I sat watching with my mouth open. I wanted to believe he’d pulled that comment out of his ass. I didn’t even know Sasha. How could she…

When I awoke, Ernie was standing near the bed, gnawing on a corn tortilla. “Don’t you have school?” I said…

Rios handed me a prescription in the waiting room. Thanking her, I sat next to Cuco to wait for Sasha…

“It’s a lie!” Sasha said and left to use the restroom. By the time Cuco and I realized where she’d gone, the Russian girl was huddled on the curb outside, surrounded by locals chattering in Spanish…

Cuco made coffee while the Russian girl and I waited at the kitchen table. She was fidgety—probably having second thoughts…