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My first victim was a woman-white, well dressed, probably in her early twenties.
It was the echo of that terrified woman's footfalls that I first began to known the unwieldy inheritance I'd come into...
Where fear and weapons meet there is always the possibility of death
I was to become thoroughly familiar with the language of fear.
I grew up one of the good boys, had perhaps a half-dozen fistfights.
It's my equivalent of the cowbell hikers wear when they know they are in bear country.
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