#Chapter 35: Blood in the Pines
DEREK
The air was too still.
I sat in the backseat of the SUV, my fingers drumming absently on the leather armrest, eyes fixed on the tree line rolling past the window. Too quiet. Too green. Too ordinary. The kind of quiet that gnawed at the back of your neck, whispering that something was wrong.
Joe, seated beside me, kept shifting his weight. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I wouldn’t have noticed the tension in the set of his jaw or the way his hand hovered near the walkie-talkie clipped to his hip.
“Something bothering you?” I asked without looking.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “You. You’ve been brooding since we left.”
“I don’t brood,” I said.
He gave me a look. “You’ve got that ‘storm incoming’ vibe. And that’s usually when things go sideways.”
I leaned my head back against the seat. “They already have.”
Joe didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
The road curved gently ahead, cutting through thick woods. The other vehicle—our lead car—was just visible in front of us. B

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