CHAPTER NINE
Harley and Callaway drove down the deserted lane, scanning the trailers on either side. The old woman had abandoned her post, leaving a single can of beer into which a yellow jacket crawled, its pulsing abdomen pointing skyward for a moment before disappearing.
“It’s a ghost town,” Callaway said. “Where is everybody?”
Harley rolled her window down a few inches and, as if in answer to Callaway’s question, the mutter of several TVs reached them.
“Staying out of the heat,” Harley answered. “Not that I can blame them.”
She slowed as the lot numbers ticked up into the seventies. Toward the end, where a chain link fence separated the campgrounds from the surrounding desert, stood a cluster of five vehicles drawn up in a circle like a wagon train.
In the midst of all these vehi
