مولد صوت AI مجاني Charles Bukowski من Fish Audio

The moon hung like a broken silver dollar in the ink-black sky, casting shadows that danced across the canyon walls. Jake Thornton's weathered hands gripped his rifle tight, blood seeping from the wound in his shoulder. Something was moving in the darkness, something that shouldn't be there.

Now, don't you go looking at me like that. This here jug ain't water, it's fermented marrow. Keeps the joints loose when the frost bites hard enough to snap a finger. I got plenty more where that came from, if you're willing to trade. Stay hydrated, stay hated.

I remember that first winter in the field, wasn't much prepared for it really. We had these thin jackets, and the cold just cut right through. Some nights we'd just sit there, watching our breath freeze in the air, wondering when morning would come.

An even deeper story awaits. Subscribe now.

Look, I've been tracking these coordinates for about three weeks now. 187 meters, give or take. The locals think I'm some kind of ghost. Maybe I am. The whiskey helps, but the nights are getting longer up here.

The desert night wrapped around him like an old blanket full of holes. Twenty years since he'd last seen civilization, and now here was trouble walking up his path. A man with a badge, bringing yesterday's ghosts with him.

Can't believe what I'm seeing here, brother. Three days without food, walking through this mess. Then boom, there's supplies. Never thought I'd find anything. This place, it's different now. Everything's changed, but we're still here, still surviving.

You have one chance to fix this. Scofield is moving and I need to know where. Cooperate, and I'll personally ensure your record is wiped clean. Refuse, and you'll find out exactly how far the government is willing to go to get what it wants.