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Preachers Chronicles - A Woman’s Touch Softens The Hard Hands Of A Badman - Excerpt 6

A Woman’s Touch Softens The Hard Hands Of A Badman

Excerpt 6

Puffa coat searched the eyes of the young Jerry and what was reflected back was a glimpse of a land of hell. Not a hell run by the twisted form of a pin-faced demon, but a hell witnessed by a boy of just 14 who’d already seen an eternity of suffering and was happy to have someone join him. Puffa coat had no wish in being tortured in this dysfunctional teen’s version of purgatory.

“I’m a see you around little boy,” he talked with menace at Jerry, “... but just know the next time I see you, it’s on for you.”

Puffa coat backed off quickly, trousers low sagging. Jerry thought to run after him and tear a new meaning of road life into his backside, but he stopped when he caught her gaze upon him. Weary hazel eyes peered at him cautiously. His heart chakra sang a love song and his lower chakra spun to its beat. Gracefully she rolled over, dusting her hands off but never taking her eyes off him. With his hand free from the zombie killer, he extended it to help. She looked at it, then looked back to him, taking it hesitantly. He clasped her hand softly, giving her support to rise up and believe that there is still some good left in humanity.

“Thank you” she said. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “they’re Neeks.” “All the same, thank you.” A tiny stream rolled down her cheeks, the quiet thunder to her eventual torrent of tears. Taken aback by this raw honesty, he didn’t know what to say or do as she leaned into him and an innate concern came over him. They found a way to hold each other in the way lovers new do.

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