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things. That old shack's been hammered by the best of 'em over the years." |
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Merle shook his big, shaggy head. "That's why Carlos and me figured we'd better get you in on it," he said softly. |
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Red Gleason knew his role. He started back up between the sweep of the two dunes. The storm's winds had shifted the huge mounds to such an extent that the view of the old landmark tavern was blocked from the road. The original drive was now under several thousand tons of damp brown sand. He came at the building from the southeast and stopped in his tracks. Red Gleason wasn't prepared for what he saw. "Holy shit," he muttered. |
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Merle Chesterton had stopped several feet behind him. Carlos hung back even further, squatting down on his haunches to make the most of the shadow cast by the dune. |
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The Gull House had been reduced to little more than a pile of splinters, a tangle of twisted sticks and debris. Red felt a lump in his throat. The old watering hole had been a part of his life ever since he was old enough to crawl up on a bar stool. He surveyed the disaster for several minutes before he found the courage to start walking again. |
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The roof and the entire second floor of the building were destroyed, scattered out over the deserted, mocking beach. The old plank patio, where he had courted and won the |
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