It happened in broad daylight, while the mundane slept, unaware of anything but their humdrum lives. The opportune, with ears plugged and heads burrowed, they plotted and texted away. The damned screamed change, and the prairie dogging throng heard what they wanted.
The guilty called it suicide while she bled—ripped apart—piece by bloody piece. Her death never looked like suicide—not to those who cared—she did not want to die.
America was murdered!
Buck took it personal, the self-appointed Protector of the Constitution. Not on his watch. He gave an oath… was consumed with rage… but not like everyone else. He marched to his own beat, and would hunt down everyone involved.
He reported only to God and Old Glory.