The Hunter as Heretic: What Happened When the West Stopped Believing in Evil

<![CDATA[Twilight lay thin across the snow, a bruised line between storm and night. Wind howled off Norton Sound, scouring the world to bone. Sheriff Harold Mack pulled his shotgun, loaded with handmade shells filled with rock salt and silver, from the truck and shut the door softly, as if the frozen silence were listening.]]>