The Forsaken

Qui

“There must’ve been some incredible battles,” Ringold said.

“You know it.”

“Never written,” he said, “never known. Just those old bones and bits of sharpened rock.”

Qui

“You know what I have a hard time with?” Ringold said.

“Being around Stagg?”

“After the service,” he said, “I had a hell of a hard time slowing down.”

“You call what you do slowing down?” Qui

“It ain’t jumping into Kandahar,” Ringold said.

“Nope.”

“You fucking Rangers,” Ringold said, “y’all would rather blow shit up and leave it all in pieces on the ground than try a little finesse.”

Qui

“You complaining?”

“No, sir.”

Ringold smiled. “I wanted to let you know, all that shit with the local DA has gone away,” he said. “All charges have been dropped. AG has been informed of what you got facing you and some real problems within the highway patrol.”

“That son of a bitch.”

“Stagg called it,” Ringold said. “I heard it straight from the hospital bed.”

Qui

“You’ll be around,” Ringold said, nodding. “Stagg thinks you’re in his pocket. He’s adding five grand to your reelection campaign.”

“Which I’ll send back,” Qui

“Keep it,” Ringold said, his jaws clenched. Medium height, compact, and muscled. His bald head and black beard made him look like some kind of wild priest. “You want him to think he’s protected.”

Qui

“We got a lot of work ahead,” Ringold said. “Stagg’s got some big plans for this county.”

Qui

•   •   •

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