Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Roller spent a good thirty minutes hunting for his weapon along the shoulder of the interstate. He was pretty sure he heard it clang on a rock or something when he dropped it, but there were no rocks of any size around. After a while, he wasn’t sure he was even looking in the right area any more. That damn sun was messing with his mind. Going over the same ground, scanning the same patches of weeds and picking through the same brush started to produce a new feeling, and it wasn’t a good one. Like he was in a cage he couldn’t break out of.
The rabbit hole was the only thing that made sense. But what were the odds it went down there, fortuitously bouncing so deep he couldn’t reach it sticking his arm in and contorting it past his elbow? If he had a shove
