6
ASHER
We parked at a campground just a couple miles south of Wamp's property. GPS wasn't able to find the address listed on the records, but we'd been able to look at county records and see the plot of land, so at least we knew where to head. We wouldn't be using roads to get there, anyhow. We'd be going on all fours.
It was just nearing lunchtime when Kurt parked the RV, and the first thing we could smell as we stepped out—beyond the scent of the freshwater lake surrounding us—was fried fish. I was already resigning myself to a lunch delay as Simon lifted his nose in the air and closed his eyes, his nostril's flaring as his feet followed his stomach.
"Bring me back a basket," Kurt said, shutting the RV door behind us. He wasn't exactly a people person. Unless alcohol was involved. T
