Chapter 40: Reaping the Harvest

"If there is no job, where are we going?"

Rhychard glanced over at Trace Wheeler, who was only slightly rough in appearance as opposed to his usual total mess. "To finish one."

The afternoon made its slow slide into evening with the sun dipping toward the west. Shadows were getting longer, and rush hour clogged the narrow streets. Rhychard had called Trace and told him to be ready. Luckily, his friend was never into anything more important than the new level of Angry Birds and a Cheetos sandwich, so there was never a problem getting his help.

Rhychard could have done the job by himself, but since Trace had been the one to get the gig in the first place, he should be a part of its conclusion. Besides, Rhychard needed to redeem himself in the eyes of his friend.

It had taken Rhychard a while sitting on his Thinking Rock, but common sense somehow seeped through his thick skull. Both Tryna and Kree had been right, and Trace for that matter. Bitterness was like a cancer that devoured a pers