The Pale Shadows
Elias Thorne rode his horse, a gray gelding named Silas, into the desolate high desert, the heat rising in shimmering columns that distorted the horizon line. He was thirty-four years old, a border patrol agent with twelve years of service, and his mind was fixed on a single, concrete objective: securing the final signature on his retirement papers before his shift ended at dusk. The want was...
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