Walker snapped the phone shut, set it down, and lifted his pistol.

He pressed it to the underside of his chin, pushed down on the thumb safety, and set his

finger on the trigger.

The doctors had said his head was broken.

They were right.

Outside amid the swishing branches and crashing skies, Paladin howled as had his

ancestors, wolves that had once hunted these very lands. Walker closed his eyes, telling himself

it was a fitting send-off. Paladin had seen a lot of death. He would understand. Time to, bleep, bleep, Walker removed his finger

from the trigger. What the hell was that? An irritating little sound that did not blend with the

natural rhythms of the storm. My death has to be in rhythm. He glanced at the phone and saw a

flashing light. Fuck, it doesn the phone and saw a flashing light.

Fuck, it doesn't matter. Do it, Chris.

Bleep, bleep. He closed his eyes tighter than before, willing the unnatural sound away,

sliding his finger back into place on the trigger. Ignore it and press. Do it. Blip,

bleep. His heart was racing. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

A rhythmic.

Bleep, bleep.

Fuck.

Walker engaged the thumb safety and lowered the gun to his lap, sucking in deep breaths.

The religion and philosophy texts on his shelf coming back into focus.

The sound was a text indicator and a message was on the phone's outer LCD screen.

Hey, Chris, it's Lehan Stobb. Hope you're well.

...