Excerpt from White Trash Werewolves
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“We really need a funeral pyre,” Ezra said as they stared at the fire pit.
“Don’t have time to build it and it will attract too much attention.”
“We need a big bonfire.”
Harley nodded. “We’re going to need gasoline.”
“Or kerosene.”
It all seemed too morbid, so cold, Harley thought.
“It has to be done,” Ezra said, looking at him.
“Why are you still here?” Harley asked him.
“Got no idea.”
“You can go. Seriously, this is my shit. You can easily be free of it.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Ezra said. “Go get some gasoline or kerosene. I’ll get the wood.”
Harley walked to a shed behind the house. He took out a can of kerosene and a can of gasoline.
He walked to where Ezra already had a large stack of wood.
Harley circled the fire ring, splashing the kerosene on the wood. He stepped back and tossed his cigarette into the
fire. The fire exploded.
“That’s a fuckin’ ignorant hillbilly way to start a fire,” Ezra said.
Harley laughed and lit another cigarette. “Sorry, I wasn’t a fuckin’ Boy Scout.”
“No shit.”
“You got both kerosene and gasoline?” He looked at Harley. “It’s one body. You ain’t burnin’ down the
mountain.”
“It could use some improvement.”
Ezra shook his head.
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