The Pale Mist
Chapter One Yan Wang’s boots struck the wet concrete of the dockside, the rhythm broken by the hiss of tires on rain-slicked asphalt as he pulled the collar of his jacket tight against the chill. He was running, not with the desperate sprint of a man fleeing, but with the heavy, purposeful stride of a man who knows the ground is shifting beneath him, his hands gripping the strap of a duffel bag...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews