The Backwoods

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I’m grateful to have so many people to thank for their friendship, inspiration, and support: Tim McGinnis, Dave Barnett, Rich Chizmar, Doug and Matt, Don D’Auria, Jack Ketchum, Tom Pic, Michael Slade. Cooper, Keene, Mike R., and all the Horror-finders. The proofing committee: Pam (whose blood on the print-out exponentially increased its value!), Bob Strauss, and Ben Ricciardi. Special thanks to David Graham and Lord Gore, and, next, to outstanding friends: Christy and Bill, Darren, R.J. Myers, Kathy, Sarah S., Karyn Valentine & Patti Beller, and Jeff Walton, and of course Charlie Meitz and Tim Shannon—for international crustaceans, particularly Portunus halsatus.

Prologue

The moon smeared in his eyes. He’d been staring as he waited, staring across the gulf of night to the other side of the river. He smiled. Soon . . .

The moonlight revealed sleeping bulldozers, stacks of foundation molds, and telltale trailers erected as construction offices. It’s progress, his benefactor had said not too long ago. Progress equates to more jobs, more satisfaction, and more money. In your pocket and mine. It’s exponential.

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