 . . . .
 . . .
There was little left of the Earth Mother Temple. The site was eerily quite. Wisps of smoke danced around the small clearing in the pine trees. In the center of the clearing was a smoldering pile of ash and wood. It appeared to have once been a log cabin. Wolf stood with arms crossed in front of the pile staring at silently. The other members of the Wolf Pack fanned out and began searching the area. I did likewise, though, in truth, I had no idea what I was looking for. There appeared to be no people other than us, alive or dead. “Here,” I heard Jefferson say. I turned around and saw him approaching Wolf with something in his hands. We all gathered around. It was a cap, like the kind baseball players wear, but the symbol on it was of no team I’d ever heard of. It was a red rectangle. Two blue bars with white pentagrams diagonally
|
|