It hadn’t even been called Kentucky back then when the Shawnee still hunted deer over mossy hills and the smoke from their fires could still inspire terror. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. And, thrusting a piece of iron into his mouth, he forced him out of the room.
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