It came quick from the woods, hugging the north county road, a shifting man-shape of shiny black, like plastic garbage bag, not loping or bounding but racing up to the passenger window as their pickup flashed by. Cade didn’t see it. He was reaching low under the seat, his eye off the road, grasping about for the rolling Jim Beam as he weaved the truck in cool jerks and hot curses, the radio blari…