To Billy it seemed that he stumbled toward the house for an eternity, every second expecting to feel the red-hot searing of a bullet. He was telling himself what a damfool thing this was he’d done when he saw the door open.
He kept his head down, and with his disheveled hair and the mud on his face he knew they might not be able to tell who he was till they got up close. It would be then that luck would tell.
He glanced up briefly, saw Jase and Ackerman both running toward him holstering their guns and calling out questions.
“It’s Ed Waters!” he heard Jase say. “Ed—what in hell happened?”
“Naw, it ain’t Ed!” Ackerman came back, and for a second Billy’s hand moved toward the g*n under his shirt. He relaxed a little when Ackerman went on, “It looks like Connor.”
He could hear the poundi
