Amy King With a cigarette smile, he killed the first crime of outlaw: bake your bread on the side you butter. He ate raw, she felt. Be the one your man can stand behind in a gunfight. Put a bullet in the throat that spews fire for your belly. Such was the lightning of life: the final translation of imagination. Rock the fantasy borne by the backs of childhood. You can hold two pine cones and rubber frogs all your life, or you can build...