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        A Vengance for Crows
        By James Maddison

           Chapter One


 The day was warm.  Everett worked in one of his
 fields, harvesting the ripe corn.  For miles
 around a plume of dust could be seen as the
 harvester did its work.  By the edge of the
 field a B-road stretched, a line of telephone
 posts following it into the distance.  Upon
 some of the poles, dead carrion crows had been
 attached, their black wings crucified against
 the pole as a deterrent to feathered intruders.

 As the harvester approached the corner of the
 field, Everett slowed it to a halt and left the
 engine idling.  He gazed over the field he had
 just completed, and then turned back to look at
 the fence.  Everett regularly checked the poles
 where the birds were strung up; it would not do
 if any of them fell off the pole, and when the
 carcasses had decayed too much it would be
 necessary to obtain replacements.
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 As he jumped down from the harvester and strode
 towards the fence, a voice spoke behind him.
 "Do you kill crows?"

 Everett turned sharply.  He hadn't noticed
 anyone around, but then again the noise of the
 engine would mask any footfalls in the soft
 corn.

 A stranger dressed in a long dark coat was
 standing right behind, his eyes obscured by a
 pair of dark glasses.  There was something he
 was carrying in his right hand.

 "Do you kill crows?" the man asked again, with
 not a hint of emotion in his voice.  "Yes."
 replied the farmer, "But what's it to you?"

 "Join them." uttered the dark figure in a
 hollow voice and a shot rang out.  He had
 already made it back across the fence as
 Everett slumped to the ground.

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