I yelled, "That bullet almost hit me! You know Grand E. never allows guns on the ranch."
His green eyes piercing, he stowed his gun in a hanging carry-case. "Had to get your attention. Gabe let me talk to Justine this morning. Promised me back in high school, when she got her degree, she’d give me a date. I know you guys are flying in your new Heli-Jet to Switzerland to eat grub with your Mom tonight. Justine said I could go along if it’s all right with you."
I had tried repeatedly to keep the peace with Wil. Swallowing his lifetime envy of me with Justine, I gave him a reasonable answer. "Not tonight. This graduation night is special. Besides Mom didn’t invite anyone else."
"You think graduating with that big degree in music from OU will get you a lot of dough? None of your tunes have hit the big time; except maybe that religious song you cranked out when you were twelve."
Itching to flatten him, I was able to hold my temper. "Because your Dad worked here, Grand E. offered to set you up with an education. But you didn’t want it."
Wil poked his own chest. "Don’t need it. I’m the one making a killing. Those Thrill Pills are selling like hot cakes. Justine admires me; making it on my own - not being handed everything all the time. She said she did. You were born with a gold spoon up your ass."
My lips firmed. "Justine doesn’t go for your Thrill Pills. We don’t want to get crazy. Some even die from them. You’ve insulted me all my life. You lied about me in high school. I’m not going to take it anymore."
His eyes flickered with hate. "I just thought you’d like to know, the Killer Plague is headed for your whole Buffalo Community."
"You’re a liar."
He snorted. "Heard it on worldwide OMNI. Terrorists sprayed in the West Texas panhandle. Those southeast winds could blow the venturis to Oklahoma -- here."
My face grew hot. "Scientists are now controlling the wind pattern."
"They can’t do it perfect, yet. You’ll get the Plague, Zane."
I seethed inside. "You didn’t shoot at me just to get my attention. You really thought you’d get rid of me. Get out, Wil. Take Rafe, your saddle and all your gear from our barn. Find another pasture for your horse and don’t come back. Get out. Now!"
Wil drew something from his pocket, throwing it in the tall grass at the side of the trail. "You’re going to get the Killer Plague, Zane. Mark my word." He jerked Rafe around. They raced back toward the barn.