“They drove a couple of miles back into the swamp, over rutted, muddy roads sometimes so narrow that leaves brushed the windshield. Coulter thought it was creepy and saw no reason why anyone would choose to live like this. The heat and humidity made you sick, and the damned weird-looking bugs were bigger than the roaches in New York. The Dodge pickup slowed and made a right onto a narrow dirt road that turned out to be a driveway. Coulter stopped before following it and looked the place over. No... big surprise where a couple of swamp turkeys like Joe Ray and Juan lived. It was a flat-roofed, clapboard house that looked as if it had never been painted. Vines grew up the front wall and much of the side wall that Coulter could see. A sagging gutter ran across the front of the house, its drainpipe disappearing into a wooden barrel. About a hundred feet off to the side was an outbuilding more rickety than the house. Coulter figured that was where they had their meth lab. He waited until they’d gone inside the house, then rolled the F-150 up the drive, pulled it close behind their rusty Dodge, and gunned the engine and tapped the horn a few times.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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