THE SHAPE WAS A MAN.
WILL GRASPED HIS LEFT ARM AND
TRIED TO HAUL HIM UP ONTO THE RIVERBANK.
THE BALD HEAD, THROWN BACK, TRAILED GRAY,
WISPY STRAGGLES OF HAIR.
THE DEAD MOUTH HUNG OPEN,
A BLACK GAP IN THE PALE BLUR OF FACE,
AND THE EYES SEEMED TO BE OPEN TOO.
EVEN IN THE DARKNESS I KNEW THAT TERRIBLE FACE,
FOR I HAD SEEN IT EARLIER THAT DAY
AS IT WRITHED IN ANGER.
IT WAS THE FACE OF OLD FARMER SPEIGHT,
AND HE WAS DEAD.
1867. The Civil War is over. Yet there is much unrest and resentment that lives on throughout the land, and in the hearts of many... Marco steps out of the ashes of the war; a man turned bounty hunter had everything which mattered most to him violently stripped away. So he emerges with a burning desire like none other to find redemption, and a new purpose in life. He sets off i...
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