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- “Hey, Sharkface!” I shouted, stepping forward, gathering Winter and soulfire as I went.
- The furious Walker whirled back to me just in time to have the heavy, octagonal barrel of the Winchester slam through the ridge of bone that he had instead of front teeth, and drive all the way to the back of his mouth.
- “Get rocked,” I said, and pulled the trigger.
- Along with the .45-caliber bullet, I sent a column of pure energy and will surging down the barrel and into the Walker’s skull. His head exploded, literally exploded, into streamers and gobbets of black ichor. His cloak of rags went mad, throwing the headless body into the air and sending it thrashing through the shallow water like a half-squashed bug. Dark vapor began issuing from the frantically twitching body—then suddenly gathered into a single cloud, all in a rush, and shot away, emitting a furious and agonized and terrorized scream as it went, alien but unmistakable.
- Then the body went limp in the water. The cloak continued flopping and thrashing for a few seconds before it, too, went still.
- Cold Days Chapter 45, Page 442
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