The tears of sadness and loss flood my heart and my nose clogs up as I close his eyes and kiss him fare-well on the forehead. He looks so unbelievable...peaceful in my arms as he could never have killed a fly! But then my time of grieving is terminated because I hear the horse of the bloody killer approach behind me. »Man fucking boy no good! Ching must kill!«, brabbles the ugly slit-eyed Mongolian from above. A blood-red scar runs over the milky-white skin of his left cheek and his thin mean. Fuck, he told himself, that was stupid, and we still have to make at least three trips to move the meat on into the ice cave. But the grin never left his face as he thought about all those pecans they now had.His feet were dry, but still not as warm as he would like for them to be when he put his boots back on. “You want to help again, Lobo? We have all that meat to move to the ice cave.”Lobo grabbed his harness and brought it over to Morales just as Gertrude, Abigail and Hortense, with the. More

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