Gannon Olmstead just wants to enjoy his retirement and get a little steelhead fishing in now and then. Amy Fletcher is determined that her new job as caretaker of a local land trust won’t really distract her from her true vocation: writing. Both of their plans come to an unexpected end when they met along the banks of a river in Scott Sadil’s wickedly twisted fiction, “Klickitat Fall.” Sadil’s razor-sharp writing, sly twists and gritty dialogue are in top form here, cementing his place as one of the sport’s leading fiction voices.
The darkness makes it tough for Gannon Olmstead to drive his pickup upriver in reverse. Twisted sideways in the seat, right arm stretched across the top of the backrest, he steers one-handed, peering through the rear window as if backing his drift boat down to the water. He can’t see shit beyond the arc of the pickup’s wimpy backup lights. Each time he gets rolling, picking up a little speed, something throws him off—roadside reflectors, a glance at his mirrors, the wall of night, the weird perspective on curves so familiar he could otherwise take them with his eyes closed—his sudden confusion sharpened as he tugs at the wheel, disoriented by his own decision to drive, for safety’s sake, on the wrong side of the road.
At least his brakes work.
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