11:40. Sheriff Dylan Brody snapped his watch shut with a sigh. “Come on, son, it"s time.”
11:40.The somber sound of his voice broke through the agitated pacing of a dark-haired youth inside the jail cell, and he glared at Brody with a look that should have melted the bars and earned his freedom.
Damned shame. He"s just a kid. His life of crime will be short… but not because he made a better choice. “You know the procedure, son. Turn around. Hands out.”
Damned shame. He"s just a kid. His life of crime will be short… but not because he made a better choice.The kid responded with a slew of profanity, clearly too young to understand facing death with poise or dignity.
And who says you"ll do any better, old man? “Now, listen, Will,” Brody said, “there"s nothing left to be done. You had your
