“Martin eased to the curb and Butters climbed in and said, ''Straight ahead, back down the ramp.'' Martin caught the traffic light and said, ''How you been?'' ''Tired,'' Butters said. His small eyes looked sleepy. ''You was tired last fall,'' said Martin. Martin had passed through Tennessee on one of his gun-selling trips, stopped and done some squirrel-hunting with Butters. ''I'm more tired now,'' Butters said. He looked into the back of the truck. ''What'd you bring?'' ''Three cold pistols, th...ree Chinese AK semis, two modified AR-15s, a bow, a couple dozen arrows and my knife,'' Martin said. ''I don't think you'll need the bow,'' Butters said dryly. ''It's a comfort to me,'' Martin said. He was a roughmuscled, knob-headed outdoorsman with a dark reddish beard over a red-pocked face. ''Where's this guy we gotta see?'' ''Over in Minneapolis. Just outa downtown. By the dome.'' Martin grinned his thin coyote-killing smile: ''You been studying up on him?'' ''Yeah, I have been.'' They took I-94 to Minneapolis, got off at the Fifth Street exit, got a pizza downtown, then went back to Eleventh Avenue.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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