““Wufk.” His senses heightened, Lars listened harder. A couple of dogs howled in the distance as a bunch of mosquitos jazzed nearby. Plus there was some sort of a cacophony going on in the background. WOOF. WOOF. CHOP. CHOP. BZZZ. BZZZ. WHUMP. WHUMP. ‘Shit. No good’, thought the killer surveying the sounds and engulfing darkness. ‘How long had he been out?’ Earlier, he’d dumped the cashmere guy into a shallow grave and covered him up with top soil. Tired from the exertion, he had laid next to th...e cool grave to catch some shut eye. He’d planned to rest for like ten minutes… twenty tops. Not eight freaking hours. WOOF. WOOF. CHOP. CHOP. BZZZ. BZZZ. WHUMP. WHUMP. From the slant of its weaving searchlight, the chopper was at least five miles away, somewhere over the gorge. Good. The dogs on the other hand seemed closer. Their barks amplified and modulated. A mile, perhaps more, perhaps less. From their eager doggy yelps they seemed to be homing in on him. Not good. Not good at all.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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