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Chapter 20- More Power, And A PlayThing
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Chapter 22- Good Harvest
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The pigman, sensing the shift in light and the presence of someone ahead, struggled to lift his broken, bloodied head. His body was mangled—right arm twisted like a snapped tree branch, skin peeled and red, with blood dripping steadily from his elbow to the canyon dust. His left arm wasn’t any better, bone jutting out like a jagged branch, flesh flayed and trembling. And then there were his legs—flattened beyond repair, resembling crumpled sacks of bloody meat.
There was hope i ...
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