The Pale Banner
The snow had stopped, but the cold remained. It sat in our bones like a second skeleton. We were three men in a white room. No windows. The walls were painted a stark, clinical beige that seemed to absorb the light from the single overhead bulb. I was Elias Thorne. I had served in the border patrol for twenty years. I watched the other two men. One was young, barely out of uniform. The other...
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