it would have only taken her twenty minutes to get ready even at a casual pace . i know this swamp like i know my own name . `` uncle pete 's dead , '' clay said in a low voice . there 's no rhyme or reason to them . freds sweaty face had turned anxious . i want to reach across the counter and grab him by the throat , rip his fucking voice box out for even talking to her . i just hope this storm doesnt last too long . they 're even more perfect than i remembered . 