Description
And the meek shall inherit the Earth....or what's left Crouched in the shadow of the long unused Concrete storage bin, once it had been used to collect and house what the farmers would have called silage, rotting husks of plant material that was meant to provide sustenance for what he learned in school were cattle. His pale eyes glued to the wavering shadow on the ground next to him. He could hear the man's every breath, it sounded like the man had to force himself to breath. Rancik's own breathes were nearly silent, their slow pace falling into sync with his heart as he waited....anticipating what waited just around the corner...separated by ten inches of earth and concrete. He had to figure out what to do, the man stood between him and his objective. Cold metal broke his concentration as it dug into the soft flesh of his temple. His stomach jumped as he felt the vibration of the pistol's cylinder turning, he heard the distinctive clicking of the hammer falling............
PROLOGUE
