Hollow’s strategy has turned to desperation. Uncertain in the dropping temperature exactly how much of his life has left him, he knows his choice now to act or let the cold take him, but without knowing which of the judge’s enemies has taken this action his disadvantage is practically a death sentence.

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Every year ends with winter. It comes to an end like everything else, with lifeless unforgiving cold. As Hollow Grim monitors his wounds, as the temperature drops, and as the day grows increasingly dire, the search through his memory of Judge Jameson’s past for a suspect continues to occupy his mind.  

He needs to know the rifle that has him cornered on the frozen ridge so he can determine how to retaliate, escape or survive.

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On a desolate day in January, Hollow Grim is hunting deer on a familiar trail, where Doc Shillington’s land backs on to Judge Irving Jameson’s expansive family property. Hiking the migration path Hollow has hunted on since his father used to take him every Sunday, a rifle shot from across the valley suddenly makes him the hunted, taking shelter on the frigid cliffside.

Unable to move without entering the rifleman’s crosshairs and uncertain of his position, Hollow has the threat of the quickly dropping temperature moving the urgency up as the day continues to pass.  

He pours through his knowledge of Judge Jameson’s past, to keep his addled mind occupied in the cold, and to form a suspect so he can mount his defence.

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A compulsion to hunt, to untie a knotted riddle, and to answer an injustice he can’t tolerate has led Hollow Grim to an encounter with a suspected child killer, who was only moments from the end of his rifle’s deadly aim but has managed to turn the trap against him.

Hollow is captive by the killer he’s been hunting, a man of his own compulsions. Instead of dispatching his problem, this killer has decided he wants to play a game. Hollow is given no choice but to play along. His captor knows how to leverage a threat.

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Hollow Grim can find no peace. A letter in his pocket continues to remind him of a measure he’s left undone and a wrong done he can’t live with.  

He has his predator in his sights, and certainty in his instincts, but knows his lack of evidence won’t allow him to act in his normal definitive manner.

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Nevada 1897

All Hollow Grim wants out of life is quiet. He’s happiest in the moments of peace he finds in his quiet postal office, sorting the mail for Progress Township. The quiet is stirred from time to time, when he’s called to his occasional role as a fugitive hunter for the US Marshal.

Hollow Grim is a killer. He is the killer this state needs. He is methodical, precise and emotionless in his approach to the predators he is tasked to hunt. His effectiveness is sharpened in his detachment. He is going to find himself becoming more dangerous, as he is going to become emotionally involved.

Hollow finds himself captivated by a letter sent to him by the mother of her missing daughter, a woman he once knew as a pleasure girl at Gertrude’s hotel. He is well accustomed to accounts of violence and tragedy, but the image of the lost innocent girl stays with him. When he crosses paths with the wrong detail, shared by someone in town with the right opportunity, he sees a thread tying through a series of abductions, thought until then to be a wild stirring string of gossip.

Captivation becomes a war path for Hollow and the predator at the end of his hunt.

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Hollow Grim, part time marksman manhunter for the US Marshal, part time postal clerk in Progress Township in Northern Nevada, is on trial for murder. His killshot was fired across the townsquare in broad daylight in front of dozens of onlookers, neighbors and friends.

The prosecution has built an air tight case that seems to have all but convinced the old judge presiding. The verdict seems imminent and the gallery seems prepared to provide the noose.  

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It’s the dying days of the Nineteenth Century, Northern Nevada. The Postal Clerk of Progress Township, Nevada, and sometimes agent fugitive hunter for the US Marshal Service, Hollow Grim, is on trial for murder.

The entire township was gathered at the steps of the chapel as Sunday funeral service parishioners started the second verse of Amazing Grace, when Hollow Grim’s rifle shot cut through the high noon sky and killed John Butler, in front of his friends and neighbors.

The prosecution’s case is bulletproof. The judge’s gavel hovers over a guilty verdict and a sentence of execution.  

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Nevada, 1896.

Hollow Grim is a killer. He’s the kind of killer Nevada needs. Some predators will only be a threat to the civilized herd. They’ve proven themselves unworthy of a place above the desert dirt. Hollow hunts them as an occasional marksman contractor for the US Marshal.  

When he’s not on a fugitive’s trail or setting aim with his notorious rifle, Hollow lives a quiet life as the Postal Clerk for Progress Township, sorting the correspondence from the changing country and hoping the Marshal won’t call on his violent services.

Today Hollow is on trial for murder. His kill shot rang out across the town square, in the closing moments of the Sunday chapel service. John Butler lies dead, an innocent man by all accounts, surrounded by his friends and neighbors.  

The gallery that once saw Hollow as a hero wants to see his face framed in a noose

When Hollow Grim starts on the path of a fugitive, every step forward is precise and strategic, until he sets the line of his rifle. He doesn’t kill for a bounty, and never acts on rage or vengeance. Why did he kill John Butler?

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