Silence compressed a million racing thoughts into each moment, until the shack's limited air space became too dense to breathe. "So..."Rayanna shifted in her chair. She pointed at a stack of newspapers next to Reeve's feet. "Do you get that delivered from the local press?" "This henhouse liner, here?" He snatched…
The dank air clamped its chilling grip onto Rayanna's raw arms. She cast furtive glances into the rustling forest. And at him. He maintained a lead of no more than ten feet, every step of his boot hitting the earth with sure footing. Her own soles slid on the undulating, narrow…
Rayanna stiffened. Her breath froze. The lantern swung from the approaching stranger's outstretched hand, his face still obscured by the misty darkness. "I get a name or my Colt. Right. Now." Her lips fumbled. A gun barrel gleamed in the sickly green light. She stammered, "I-I'm lost. I-" "Name." A howl…
Amy picked her steps through the roadside clumps of withered thistles and ragweed. At the top of the lumpy slope, a shack hunkered among untended hawthorn and mulberry limbs. The gray remnants of porch planks and rails jutted in errant directions like a decaying grin along the front. Its mildewed roof…