My eyelids fly open with the soft knocking on the front door of Peggy's home. Bessie is standing on the end of the mattress, her head turned towards the sound, a soft growl coming from her lips. The first grey streaks of morning show through the closed curtains. Who on earth would be knocking on the door at this hour of the morning. I reach under the pillow for the Glock and pulling the blanket aside I push up from the floor heading quietly for the door.
Peggy is already in the hallway as I open the bedroom door; her sword stick clutched in her hand, her wrinkled face has a determined expression. She slowly heads for the door and pausing by the window gently pulls the curtain aside, just enough to see who is there. A smile comes over her face as she leans forward to open the door.
Meet Sloan, anti hero, vigilante and all round tough soldier. His journey through a devastated land leading a band of assorted characters proves to be a rollicking tale of adventure.
Peggy is already in the hallway as I open the bedroom door; her sword stick clutched in her hand, her wrinkled face has a determined expression. She slowly heads for the door and pausing by the window gently pulls the curtain aside, just enough to see who is there. A smile comes over her face as she leans forward to open the door.
Meet Sloan, anti hero, vigilante and all round tough soldier. His journey through a devastated land leading a band of assorted characters proves to be a rollicking tale of adventure.
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