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something to someone you knew. All too often those were the things that came back to haunt a man. |
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"Ever hear of the lady they call the Witch of Sixkill?" He asked the question through a half-forced grin. It sounded even more ridiculous than he thought it would. |
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His passenger nodded. "Jubell," he whispered and immediately began coughing again. |
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Frazier waited for the spasm to pass. He was hoping for more. |
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"Then there really is someone called Jubell, the Witch of Sixkill? I thought maybe some of my buddies back at the base might be putting me on." He had a clear mental picture of a hysterical Goldstein, sprawled across his bunk laughing uncontrollably. |
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"There be a woman called Jubell," the old man acknowledged. |
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Before Frazier could launch another question, the old man leaned forward apprehensively, staring intently through the narrow unfrosted band at the bottom of the windshield. He was suddenly animated, pointing excitedly to a delapidated old house, sheltered from the raw cold by waist high drifts of snow and heavily coated pine boughs. |
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Frazier eased to a stop and his ancient passenger laboriously hauled his twisted body |
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