CHAPTER SIX
He'd returned out of the desert, but could still feel grains of sand in the collar of his shirt. He swallowed briefly, peering over the backyard fence, his eyes peering through a dusty, streaked windshield.
Maintaining a vehicle, or even goggles, or anything in between, had never seemed like the most important use of his time.
His time was very valuable.
He'd once made as much as two hundred dollars per hour. He smiled at the memory, nodding to himself. But his expression became rather fixed in the front seat of his RV as he remembered how that particular job had ended.
His scowl morphed, but as the negative emotions began to rise, his attention was captured by a silhouette.
A figure ahead, moving across a window.
He swallowed, his eyes attentive, his heart pounding. He
