“Wyn saw the freshly laid railroad tracks, and spotted the spires of San Felipe with its white crosses pointing toward God’s home, and knew he’d finally reached Albuquerque. He glanced behind him at the dead men tied to the horses and sighed. When he turned back around in the saddle, the sight of the church shamed him. Wyn had only brought death here, and doubted these men were bound for where the crosses pointed...”
