You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
<strong>Jack</strong> <strong>kilborn</strong> <strong>SErial</strong> <strong>blakE</strong> <strong>crouch</strong><br />
farmland. Donaldson pulled back onto the highway and<br />
headed for it, whistling as he drove.<br />
The farm stood just where he remembered it. Donald-<br />
son pulled off the road into a cornfield and drove through the<br />
dead stalks until he could no longer see the road. he killed the<br />
engine, set the parking brake—the accord had transmission<br />
issues—then tugged out the keys to ensure it wouldn’t roll<br />
away.<br />
his passenger whimpered as Donaldson muscled him<br />
out of the car and dragged him into the stalks.<br />
he whimpered even more when Donaldson jerked his<br />
pants down around his ankles, got him loosened up with an<br />
ear of corn, and then forced himself inside.<br />
“Gonna stab me with your little knife?” he whispered<br />
in brett’s ear between grunts. “Think that was going to save<br />
you?”<br />
When he’d finished, Donaldson sat on the kid’s chest<br />
and tried out all the attachments on the Swiss army knife<br />
for himself. The tiny scissors worked well on eyelids. The<br />
nail file just reached the eardrums. The little two inch<br />
blade was surprisingly sharp and adept at whittling the<br />
nose down to the cartilage. and the corkscrew did a fine job on<br />
brett’s adam’s apple, popping it out in one piece and leaving<br />
a gaping hole that poured blood bright as a young cabernet.<br />
apple was a misnomer. it tasted more like a peach pit.<br />
Sweet and stringy.<br />
11