The Distant Blade
Elias, you need to pack the truck, the radio crackled in the static-choked air of the small station office, a voice that sounded like it was being dragged across gravel. Elias Thorne looked up from the ledger, his knuckles white against the paper, the light from the single overhead bulb cutting a sharp, yellow wedge through the dust motes that hung suspended in the cold November air. He was...
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