My puzzlement and curiosity had allowed her get to the bottom of the small hill and I watched her pause there. She carefully stepped over a dry creek ...here a sometimes-rivulet had dug a shallow trench. Her light blue boots were traced with colorful embroidery and sparkled with rhinestones, strangely at odds with her practical, worn farm clothes.As she picked her way up the low hillock, I rolled up into a sitting position, leaving the rifle to rest, and drew my revolver. It’s pretty old school;. The rain put paid to any efforts to light one, though, so he shoved them back in his pocket and moved slowly to the centre of the clearing, feeling very exposed. The setting sun lit the trees on the side of the clearing with fire and blood. His breath made clouds in the air, thick fogs that hung in the motionless air, and even the birds seemed to have fallen silent. Piercing his reverie, it came. A soft, sibilant whisper, cutting through the air. "Brentt..." He turned, and saw what he had been. More

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