“When he got back inside the pickup, Willard reached under the seat for a rag and wiped the traces of blood off his hands. “You remember what I told you the other day?” he asked Arvin.
“About them boys on the bus?”
“Well, that‘s what I meant,” Willard said, nodding over at the hunter. He tossed the rag out the window. “You just got to pick the right time.”
“Yes, sir,” Arvin said.
“They‘s a lot of no-good sonofabitches out there.”
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