Orphan Maker
“What the hell gave her the idea to come along on this trip again? She cast an eye at her roommate. Oh, yeah. That was it. Her butt and thighs were still sore from the previous day’s horseback ride. Now she sat on a rock-hard bench in the back of a two-wheeled cart, thumping and bumping its way down a decrepit two-lane highway. The thing wasn’t even a proper wagon, the faded orange and white paint job testament to its previous life as a trailer at a truck rental company. A wooden contraption had... been attached to the trailer, adapting it for the horse now hitched in front. A second horse plodded alongside. Loomis casually held a compound bow with one arrow nocked as she rode Tempest. At her hip was a .45 automatic pistol. Terry stood at the front of the trailer, feet braced on another bench and reins in his hands. Gwen didn’t think he was there to steer so much as yank on the makeshift brake lever sticking up on one side if there was an emergency. He had a shotgun slung across his back and a smaller version of Loomis’s bow lay nearby.MoreLess
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