Published by Thunder Valley Press at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 by Kris Sparks
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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His horse's soft whicker pulled Virgil Dean out of a drunken doze.
For a moment Virgil's dream was more real that the gently rolling prairie where he'd made his camp for the night. The burnt-sulfur smell of phantom gunpowder overpowered the damp, musty odor of dry grasses dusted with light snow. The sharp crack of Winchesters still echoed in his memory, overlaid with the ghostly cries of the dying. Like all his dreams of late, the horrors his mind didn't let him forget were more immediate than the distant yip of a coyote somewhere off in the deep black of the North Dakota night.