The Golden Echoes
The water was already up to his shins when Miller screamed, a raw, tearing sound that cut through the howling wind and the drumming of rain on the tin roof of the outpost. Elias Thorne turned from the map table, his hand instinctively going for the radio, but the static was a solid wall of white noise, a physical thing pressing against his ears. Miller was on the floor, convulsing, his face a...
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