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Mr. Hands

Gary A. Braunbeck
Contents ( 25)
  1. Prologue:
  2. Part One:
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Interlude: The Hangman
  7. Part Two:
  8. Chapter One
  9. Chapter Two
  10. Chapter Three
  11. Chapter Four
  12. Interlude: The Hangman
  13. Part Three:
  14. Chapter One
  15. Chapter Two
  16. Chapter Three
  17. Chapter Four
  18. Chapter Five
  19. Chapter Six
  20. Chapter Seven
  21. Chapter Eight
  22. Chapter Nine
  23. Chapter Ten
  24. Epilogue: The Hangman
  25. And Now, a bonus story:
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Mr. Hands

Book III

Cedar Hill Series

by

Gary A. Braunbeck

JournalStone

img1.jpg

Original Version Copyright © 2007—Gary A. Braunbeck

Author’s Preferred version Copyright © 2016 by Gary A. Braunbeck

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

JournalStone books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

JournalStone

www.journalstone.com

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-945373-24-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-945373-26-8 (ebook)

ISBN: 978-1-945373-25-1 (hc)

Printed in the United States of America

2nd Edition

JournalStone rev. date: August 19, 2016

Cover Design: M. Wayne Miller

Edited by: Aaron J. French

Mr. Hands

“…when the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.”

—Oscar Wilde

Prologue:

Intersections

1

—Shall there be mercy, then?

—Not for monsters like them, no.

—Under no circumstances?

—Anyone who would do such a thing doesn’t deserve it.

—So, then…under no circumstances?

—Goddamn right, under no circumstances.

—So be it.

2

The next cliff on the mountain was not as steep as he had first thought, but there was no doubt in his mind that it would probably get steeper before he reached the top. He came to the bulge, went over, placed his foot firmly on the edge, and found a solid hold with his left hand on what felt like a root. Pulling upward, kneeing and toeing into the gold-colored stone, kicking steps into the shale-like rock wherever he could, he positioned both hands and one foot before moving into a new, higher position.

He thought of his family—all of them now gone back to earth, dirt, rock, soil and dust, the forgotten rot of molding ages—and had to steady himself against tears.

It wasn’t my fault, really, it wasn’t, I didn’t mean for any of it to happen, ohGod, please, please, can all of you forgive me…?

The mountain was starting to shudder in his face and against his chest. His own breath was whistling and humming crazily against the stone. The rocks were steepening and he labored backbreakingly for every inch. His shoulders were tiring and his calves ached and the muscles in his arms felt like iron. Panic was courting him, and it was only the thought of what he might find somewhere above that kept him going.

Proof-positive that what had happened years ago had, indeed, been real.

That he had not imagined it as the doctors insisted.