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I knew that storm was bad, maybe the worst I’ve ever seen since I moved out here. I didn’t sleep; the shards of rain pounding on the roof like a storm of bullets made that impossible. The only thing noisier was the wind, howling as it circled my cabin, threatening to break my windows and knock down my walls. I suppose I should be glad it didn’t succeed and that it only took my electricity and my supply of firewood for the rest of the month. My neighbors weren’t as lucky.

Beside a fallen branch, I catch a glimpse of the remains of a nest, including some eggshells. Poor things. Their lives ended before they even had a chance to begin, all because Mother Nature lost her temper. After taking a few steps, I see the fragments of a beehive on the ground, the bees nowhere to be found.

I frown. It’s terrifying how much power nature has, how a tantrum that lasted just a few hours could cause so much damage and take so much life. Even the best assassin in the world doesn’t come close to matching Mother Nature’s record, and no one can predict when she’s going to kill next. It’s usually when people least expect it, and once she starts her killing spree, no one can stop it.

Terrifying.

And yet, though nature claims lives, nature also gives life. In puddles of golden sunlight reaching the forest floor, I can see mushrooms and ferns sprouting, new trees already growing. The silence in the air, the peaceful silence that only comes after a storm, is broken by the chirping of birds and insects and the croaking of frogs in the distance.

The forest may be wounded, but the forest goes on. Just like me.

I gather a few branches and return to my cabin. It’s small, not much to look at from outside, and during winter, it can get really chilly in spite of the fire I keep burning. But it’s home. The only home I’ve ever known, really, apart from the one I spent my horrid childhood in. Then again, that never felt much like home, not like this one. This one’s safe. It’s quiet. It’s tucked away from the rest of the messy world, the world of money and all the greed and malice it breeds, the world of the law and stupid people who will do anything to prove themselves different and to impress others, people who don’t mind throwing their own lives away just so they don’t lose anything and people who think they have the power to protect others and try their hardest but fail anyway.

Stupid.

Here, at least, there’s just me. No one to kill, except the animals I hunt for food. No one to make promises to that I can’t keep. No one to watch over. No one to answer to. No one to bother me. No one to…

I stop a few feet away from the cabin as I sense someone else’s presence behind me. Every muscle in my body coils. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as my thoughts race.

Who is it? Someone from the mafia? Another assassin? A government spy? Definitely not an innocent stranger or they would have announced their presence by now. How did they find me? What do they want? To bring me in? To kill me?

Not if I kill them first.

I drop the branches in my hands. Before they hit the ground, I pull my knife from my boot and throw it behind me. Then I turn.

Andrea is standing there, the hilt of the knife between his fingers.

He grins as he twirls it in his hand. “I see you still have it, Cain Archer.”

So does he, I think, or he wouldn’t have caught that blade. But I say nothing.

Andrea walks towards me. “I’m glad. I was afraid I’d find a bald monk. Or an alcoholic who couldn’t walk straight. Or a man with an ugly wife and five children.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m just a hunter living alone in a cabin in the woods. I’m surprised you found me at all.”

Andrea gives me a puzzled look. “Are you?”

“No.”

If anyone could find me, it’s Andrea.

He chuckles. “Well, I’m glad I found you.” He returns my knife. “And that you haven’t changed. Well, except for the fact that you have longer hair, though I suppose we can remedy that.”

He tries to take back the knife but I move it out of his reach.

He frowns. “What? You don’t think I’d make a good barber?”

“You’re great with a knife,” I answer. “But that’s the problem. I prefer a razor.”

Andrea smiles. Then to my surprise, he pulls me in and gives me a hug.

“I’ve missed you, fratello.”

I pull away. “I’m not that anymore.”

He acts as if he hasn’t heard me, stroking his chin as he looks at my cabin. “Wait. You have electricity here?”


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