An excerpt from The Angels’ Share

The weather had deteriorated hour by hour and by the middle of the second afternoon, a thick cloudbank began to build far out to the west. A gusty erratic wind spilled through the trees and across the bayous, bringing the smell of rain. A rough homemade sign nailed to a post said CHOCTOW JUNCTION where a two-lane path beside a large shell mound intersected the road, then wandered off into the woods. Jack walked about two hundred yards ahead of the party. A half mile further on, he rounded a sharp curve and thought he saw a glint of white. It was only a snap of whitish movement, no more than a gleam of unnatural color in the green foliage. But it bothered him. The pale flesh of a man’s face or a white shirt, even at several hundred yards will show like the flagging tail of a deer to a skilled woodsman.

Jack felt his face and neck go hot. His fingers began to tingle. He dropped to one knee, adjusted his bootlaces and peered from under the brim of his hat. There it was again. A lump came into his throat and his chest began to throb. He felt slightly faint. He had the beginnings of what Ethan Gaines had called soldier’s heart, the Kentuckian’s name for the stone cold fear and dread that attacks a man when the sniff of death is in the air. Someone was off the edge of the road in the forest . . . waiting.