The Passion of Youth

By Mike Reuther

John wanted it all: Adventure, a life with meaning and love. He thinks he may have found it out West, amidst the tumbling trout streams of the Rocky Mountain and a girl. But things don't always work out the way a young man hopes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Reuther
• Release date: Nov 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393935155

Mike Reuther

Mike Reuther is the author of the Amazon bestselling book, Nothing Down, as well as other novels and books on writing. A journalist, baseball nut and flyfisherman, he makes his home with his family in central Pennsylvania near some of his favorite trout streams.

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Mike Reuther

Copyright 2015 by Mike Reuther

The Passion of Youth is a work of fiction. Though some actual towns, cities and other locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and the imagination of the author. Any similarities of characters or names used within to any person past, present or future is coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Brief quotations may be embodied in critical articles or reviews.

The Passion of Youth

John crashed the thick branch down on the cop’s shoulder. The blow felt solid, like a bat slamming against a baseball for a long home run. The cop yelped, like a dog in heat, before he staggered almost in slow motion before falling in a heap to the ground.

A small part of John felt revulsion, but the guy had it coming after cold-cocking him in the mouth. John turned to see the cop’s buddy, a much bigger man, closing in on him. Hell. The guy was a bear. John tightened his grip on the branch and raised it with his right hand. It caused the cop to stop. Things had become serious now.

Easy guy. Just put it down, the cop said.

Backed up against the bulldozer, John was trapped. Drop his weapon? He considered it, but only for a moment. He was aware of many things now – of the sweat running down his face and his fierce hold on the branch, of the salty taste of blood in his mouth and his heart pounding like a time bomb in his chest. He was aware of a man’s single devotion to make things right, and of a small protest that had gone awry. Most of all, he was aware of the huge cop looming before him. He’d be a fool to mix it up with this goon. Well behind the cop at the edge of the woods near the stream he could make out the small group of protesters – his buddies – watching.

They’d come here, the half-dozen or so of them, to make a stand. The residential development was to be one of those planned communities, with ski slopes and a championship golf course and big, expensive homes that only movie stars and owners of conglomerates could buy, houses affording them grand sweeping views of the great piney woods and the meandering trout stream below. That was the most painful of all. They were taking his stream