Chapter 1
September, 1993.
Charles Greene had a feeling it was going to be an interesting night. It was like a vibe, something that hit him the second he’d stepped out of the van in the dirt parking lot of the little country bar. They were just outside of a little pissant Idaho town, and the second his old boots hit the dirt every bloodshot eye behind the dirty plate glass window turned his way. He half expected them to jump out of their chairs and start barking at him like the territorial two-legged mongrels they were. The thought made him smile, and his smile made most of them turn away from him just as quickly as they had turned toward him.
There was nothing particularly threatening about his smile. Charles knew this because he had done it in the mirror, always careful to avoid
