The Pale Shadows
The first beam fell at four o’clock, snapping with a sound like a rifle shot in an empty church. Elias Thorne counted the seconds between the crack and the roar of earth that followed. One. Two. Three. Then the sky turned brown. He was standing on the ridge above the Oakhaven pit, his hand resting on the cold iron railing, watching the dust settle over the town below. He had twenty-two years of...
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