J.T. Ellison

Field Of Graves


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CHAPTER 26

       CHAPTER 27

       CHAPTER 28

       CHAPTER 29

       THE FOURTH DAY

       CHAPTER 30

       CHAPTER 31

       CHAPTER 32

       CHAPTER 33

       CHAPTER 34

       CHAPTER 35

       CHAPTER 36

       CHAPTER 37

       CHAPTER 38

       CHAPTER 39

       CHAPTER 40

       CHAPTER 41

       CHAPTER 42

       CHAPTER 43

       CHAPTER 44

       THE FIFTH DAY

       CHAPTER 45

       CHAPTER 46

       CHAPTER 47

       CHAPTER 48

       CHAPTER 49

       CHAPTER 50

       CHAPTER 51

       CHAPTER 52

       CHAPTER 53

       CHAPTER 54

       CHAPTER 55

       CHAPTER 56

       CHAPTER 57

       CHAPTER 58

       CHAPTER 59

       CHAPTER 60

       THE SIXTH DAY

       CHAPTER 61

       CHAPTER 62

       CHAPTER 63

       CHAPTER 64

       CHAPTER 65

       CHAPTER 66

       CHAPTER 67

       CHAPTER 68

       CHAPTER 69

       CHAPTER 70

       CHAPTER 71

       CHAPTER 72

       CHAPTER 73

       CHAPTER 74

       CHAPTER 75

       CHAPTER 76

       Epilogue

       Author Note

       EXTRACT

       COPYRIGHT

      When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.

      —Revelation 6:7–8

      Taylor picked up her portable phone for the tenth time in ten minutes. She hit Redial, heard the call connect and start ringing, then clicked the Off button and returned the phone to her lap. Once she made this call, there was no going back. Being right wouldn’t make her the golden girl. If she were wrong—well, she didn’t want to think about what could happen. Losing her job would be the least of her worries.

      Damned if she did. Damned if she didn’t.

      She set the phone on the pool table and went down the stairs of her small two-story cabin. In the kitchen, she opened the door to the refrigerator and pulled out a Diet Coke. She laughed to herself. As if more caffeine would give her the courage to make the call. She should try a shot of whiskey. That always worked in the movies.

      She snapped open the tab and stood staring out of her kitchen window. It had been dark for hours—the moon gone and the inky blackness outside her window impenetrable—but in an hour the skies would lighten. She would have to make a decision by then.

      She turned away from the window and heard a loud crack. The lights went out. She jumped a mile, then giggled nervously, a hand to her chest to stop the sudden pounding. Silly girl,