Chapter 65

Dom thought he saw space up ahead and aimed for it, hope rising in his chest. Almost out. He stumbled from the dead corn stalks and back into the maze. His disappointment that he hadn’t gotten out was overshadowed by the jolt of despair that sickened him as he realized he was staring into the barrel of a rifle.

Bobby stood before him, an old man with white wispy hair wearing a mended plaid shirt. His eyes glinted in the moonlight, and his mouth quirked up at Dom, the offering that had appeared directly before his gun.

Dom hadn’t made it.

It occurred to him, as the short time stretched out into long seconds, that he should be angrier that he was here, that he was young yet, his life ahead of him, getting shot for no reason. It occurred to him that he should be pissed that the last thing he was going to see was this man’s ugly smile of sociopathic triumph. It occurred to him that he should try to jump away, to dodge, to run, even if the shot would get him all the same.