09/02/2026 17:15

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It was one of those godawful Humvees, painted in smeary camouflage blobs of black and green. Crisp, not limp. Then he listened to the news, broadcast byGraham MacNamee. He's got earphones on and a receptionist's mike hung in front of his lips.

There was little more than a glimmer of light left in the day now, but enough to see that the track — what was left of it — veered abruptly to the right and went into the woods. Three or four more, though, and Henry could go barrel-assing down this road at sixty and Pete would ju His normally unremarkable face had become almost handsome in his pain. They would follow his trail, and at the end of it they'd shoot him like a rabid dog.