Description: From REBEL SPIRITS The dense air shimmers. Right in front of my eyes, the molecules -- or whatever -- form themselves into a shadowy image. A young man, maybe two years older than I am, wearing that same blue visor cap. He's still in that ragged military uniform, which maybe used to be navy blue, and one scuffed boot. His eyes capture meobsidian-black pools. His lips move, but no sound comes out. Is he mute? Am I deaf? "Why are you here, Nathaniel Pierce?" He shakes his head from side to side, me following those black eyes. He turns all the way around. That's when I see the torn fabric and dried blood of a gaping hole in the middle of his back. As if someone had aimed for his heart.

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