"Who's paying?" I asked. "Been a lot of beer poured and some rum and wine and other things and now more stew's coming out. Haven't seen ha'penny chang... hands. Who's gonna pay for all this?"Billy looked up at the dark rafters, like he was studying the smoke and the cobwebs, "Arnold County," he said."Ain't none," I said. "Long gone." One problem at a time," Billy said, smiling. "A word to the wise and all that."Sudden like, bam-bam, somebody was beating on the tavern's thick front door with what. . or something... crawling across the ground alongside the rutted trail that led back into the hills before becoming a not quite as badly rutted, but barely visible trail back to the dig. He looked human... sort of. His head was too big and his arms and legs just didn’t look right. He was wearing a light blue t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans, but they were about to fall– or slip– off of him as he crawled. He had a pair of tighty-whities on under the blue jeans, but they were no longer. More

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