Schwartz

He crouched low in the undergrowth and trained his gun on the hill, the rise where the vehicle would appear. All about him, the massive trees stretched their bare arms to the sky in supplication. The harsh winter wind whipped through the dry leaves, causing them to shower onto the ground. The eerie sound of the wind as it wailed added to the desolate feeling. A land of emptiness despite being so rich, he thought as he waited. The stories these trees could tell, he thought as he glanced around quickly, the tales of wanderers going hiking, never to be found again.

James Schwartz had positioned himself in such...