You’re sure about it?” Cyrus asked, feeling his heart sink.


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    It’s a prototype,


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    Guard the truck,” Cyrus said. “Come get us if there’s trouble. NO, don’t start,” he said, as she put her jaw up in the way Colfax women learned at a very young age. “The truck is important.


    Cyrus regretted his life choices the second he opened his door and slid out of the truck. His legs almost caved and sent him to the ground, but he grabbed on to the swinging door, and held on, until he could struggle upright. When did I get so heavy?


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    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


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    I’d rather not. I feel guilty about this as is,” Cyrus heaved a sigh. “Feels selfish, but we gotta get Rusty back.” Or be able to say that we tried our damnedest, if it’s too late already.


    Peering through the church window, he saw Benjy Custer up on the pulpit, hands gesturing as he spoke to the congregation. Figures. Yeah, we got to get this distraction going. Or else they’ll make us some real strange fruit hanging from those trees out there.


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    George staggered out of the smoke and got his breath back, just as the taillights of the truck receded into the night. He stared after them, mouth agape, and infuriated beyond belief. This is my ticket to the big leagues, and this civilian is trying to cut me out of my glory?


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