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Quade: A Short Story

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At least she’d drawn blood. It was Quade that she’d stuck, and she was glad for it, even if the damage was minimal. It hadn’t been Quade’s first time on the wrong end of a blade, either. The man was built like a lugnut, and he had a thin, shiny canyon of pink scar tissue snaking down across his face, from above his right eye to the edge of his left jaw. It must have been a real feat just to keep that pug nose intact. “You won’t be so feisty once you meet Mr. Talmidge, miss,” he drawled. He’d torn a section from his t-shirt and tied it tight over the gash she’d made in his forearm with the little pocket knife Brian had given her for her birthday so many years before. She’d finally had a chance to use it for something other than picking splinters. …show more content…

“Finest little outpost there is between Macon and Waycross, miss. Come on, now—step lively. We got us some introductions to make.” She looked at Pinnock, who scowled a little and made a lackluster motion with the gun. Pinnock didn’t scare her at all—he wasn’t the same type of person that Quade was. “Okay,” she said, and they crossed the park and walked into the village of Bickley. SEVENTEEN Ben caught up to them just after they’d entered the cypress swamp. The relief of finding her alive rumbled through him like an August thunderclap, and he muttered a silent prayer of thanks. His relief was quickly replaced by rage, and he debated whether or not he should make a move on the men with his shotgun right then—maybe catch them off guard. He decided against it, opting instead to blend into the landscape as he tracked them through the swamp. He watched from the brush as they marched her through the park before vanishing down a narrow alleyway. When they were gone, he scampered through the park, angling toward a cluster of houses on a hill overlooking the little town. He was sweating by the time he’d finished the run, and he took cover in a stand of saw palmetto and put the binoculars on the nearest house. Someone was

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