He waited, spending his time studying where life used to exist—Kyle’s trailer. It was old and rusty, and most of the windows had duct-taped boards of some type in their place. There was police tape across the door and two chalk outlines of headless bodies, mostly washed away, in front of it on the patio. He scanned the dark field, searching for his would-be assassins. He reached into the car and checked his watch. He’d been waiting for an hour, and he was still alone.

He opened the trunk to get his clothes when he picked up that haunting scent again. He let the evening breeze bring the smell to him while he stood there behind Devil Car. He saw no need to let them know he detected them. The smell was coming from in front of him, around the corner from the front gate. He picked up t...

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