PREVIEW

... t of oil and scorched metal lingered in the air like an unwanted memory. The skies were murky, smog choking out the sun, and broken cranes loomed like skeletons over gutted warehouses.

Maine crouched behind a rusted-out trash bin, struggling to fit his massive frame into the narrow space without tipping it over. His skin-tight muscle shirt was soaked with sweat and regret.

"Dammit, Arthur... Next time I trust you, just put a collar on me and call me Fido."

Across from him ...

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