SOUL FIRE, VOL. 2 - ALLIGATOR ALLEY

Produced by Cajete, 2026. Do not use without permission. The rain was drumming a steady, comforting rhythm against the massive windshield, blurring the endless stretch of asphalt cutting through the pitch-black heart of Alligator Alley. Inside the cab of the Peterbilt, it felt like a modern mansion on wheels, bathed in the warm, amber glow of the dashboard lights with a hot thermos of coffee cupped in his hand and the sleeper berth cozy and dry behind him. But just a few inches away, on the other side of the heavy glass, the Everglades felt alive, a primordial, suffocating expanse of black water and twisted cypress trees that felt completely detached from the modern world. There was a deep, unsettling silence out in that marsh, the kind that made you wonder if the shifting shadows just past the headlight beams were just tall sawgrass, or if there were ancient swamp witches and hungry, pale creatures waiting for a lone traveler to break down. He checked his mirrors and pressed his foot a little firmer on the throttle, entirely secure in his rolling fortress while the dangers of the deep Florida dark drifted safely by outside.