Published by Permuted Press at Smashwords.
Copyright 2010 Tony Monchinski
“When you side with a man, you stay with him. And if you can’t do that, you’re like some animal, you’re finished.”
—William Holden, The Wild Bunch
“Some of us…are more broken than others.”
—Michael Caine, Around the Bend
The dawn came but it did so unbeknown to an earth below—a morose land canopied by thick, unforgiving storm clouds layered one upon the other, unremitting, impenetrable. The morning mist rose from the ground to the sky above in a seamless veil of wispy bleakness, cloaking the road to town in a fold of hazy desolation.
And from the brume emerged some monstrosity: a man in shape and form yet somehow misplaced, as if having stepped out of the past. An atavism brought forth by some ancient incantation. His person was clad in a chain mail bymie, head and bulky shoulders cloaked with a coif and aventail. His face was unseen behind a splatter mask, the slits between the grill revealing only shadow. Leather gauntlets protected his hands and forearms and he was festooned with weapons. Leather pants supported triple pistol mag thigh rigs; extended clips in the handguns; a chainsaw slung over his back next to a flanged mace; a brace of knives crossing his chest. Waterproof Blackhawk Warrior Wear Black Ops Boots with full grain leather uppers protected the man’s feet.