SWEAT DRIPPING FROM THEIR foreheads, Ken and Doug searched the edge of the embankment. Hawthorn branches and snarled cedar twigs scratched their faces and inhibited their frenzied quest to find Edward’s body.

“I nailed him, I know I did! But where the hell’s his body?” protested Ken as he removed a thorn from the palm of his hand.

Doug stopped and shooed away a cluster of mosquitoes circling him with his hand and continued to plow through the jungle of foliage in front...