Bill Beverly

Nichts ist für die Figuren dieses Romans erstaunlicher als der Umstand, noch am Leben zu sein. ›Dodgers‹ beginnt in einem Drogenviertel von L.A. Die Helden: der sensible East, sein schießwütiger Bruder Ty, der Gamer Michael und der dicke, clevere Walter. Nach einer Razzia müssen sie fliehen, quer durch die USA, einen Mordauftrag im Gepäck. Doch die vier Möchtegern-Killer sind Teenager und noch nie aus L.A. rausgekommen.

Dodgers

Jan Jackson

Perry’s breathing was soft and tinkly, glasslike, like a stone rattling in a bottle as it rolled. It tumbled and slowed, tumbled and slowed. It isn't taking long, East thought. There isn't much more. Once Perry's breath nearly ended on the upstroke. Then he let the air out - another roll, another tumble. East put his hand near Perry's hand, and he leaned and looked again down the barrel of Perry's eyes. The last thing anyone saw. He supposed he was willing to be it. He put the fingers of his hand atop Perry's knuckles, and Perry let out a half cough, out of his chest, which was high and white and furred with hairs like bare winter trees on a mountain. The stone in the bottle rolled again. The eyes swam in their clouds, their baths of white. Then the bottle bumped up on something, rolled no farther, and the mountain knew it too, what the fish knew, that last thing of things.

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