Robert Moore Williams

Summary

Robert Moore Williams Sinister Paradise

Retch spoke.
Parker, sitting in the raft, watched the three men tow it toward the shore. He watched their feet. Where they stepped, the water seemed to grow firm. Pirates, cut-throats, killers, they certainly were. But added to that was the equally obvious fact that they could walk on water. In all history, Parker had only heard of one man who could do that, and he hadn't been a man, but a God.
Ahead of them, the island loomed in the sunset; a long strip of white, sandy beach; behind it a thick growth of trees; behind the trees the rocky central mass of the island rising up into the sky.
Source: Gutenberg

Robert Moore Williams Sinister Paradise

Where wild harp notes had once flooded now was silence. Where a creature that had once looked like a giant bird had flapped through the air now there was nothing.
On the ledge, Johnny Retch wiped sweat from his face. From his pockets, he methodically refilled the almost empty clip of the gun. He looked down at Gotch, who was sitting up.
"You killed the Jezbro!" Gotch was whispering. His eyes were searching the sky as if he still did not believe what he had seen happen.
"Sure," Retch answered. "I don't know what the hell it was, but it could be killed. Anything can be killed, Gotch.
Source: Gutenberg

Robert Moore Williams Sinister Paradise

As the second, third, and fourth slugs hit him, the expression of surprise became one of agony. He fell without a sound.
Retch stood looking down at him.
The group was silent. Gotch hastily lowered his sword.
"I don't want to hear any more superstitious talk," Retch said. "There are a lot of funny things here on this island but there is nothing to be afraid of—except this!" He patted the stock of the stumpy little gun he held. "And there's enough stuff up there to make all of us rich; we'll have everything we can ever want." A glow crept into Retch's eyes as he spoke.
Source: Gutenberg

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