Highway to Hell?
Spent two nights and three long fucking days on the road driving up to her friend's cabin. Found out along the way that we both hated big cities and cheap whiskey. Traded a few stories about work, got the gory version of a few of her hunts. Ended up being jealous that she got to run around killing these critters without all the paperwork I was stuck with. Even when I was a Seal there was a shit load of boring reports to read before and after the missions.
Tried to pick her brain about ghosts and the other critters she'd taken down. I'd never believed any of that shit. People could be evil enough without actually needing to add to the things in this world. Managed to avoid pissing her off for the most part, but she wasn't really the type to spill her secrets just because we were stuck in a car in the middle of BFE.
Hell, it was a nice change from my ex. Course I was avoiding that subject and a couple of others with her still. Still thought things were going to go to shit and she was going to end up shooting me. If and when that happens I don't need her to hesitate. Sure as hell not because I have an ex wife and a kid. The ex I haven't seen in four years, the kid two. Another reason I was in a hurry to get away from Los Angeles as fast as I could. Any chance of hurting my daughter isn't something I could take.
Which might be why I'd really asked Jo for help to start with. Saw her take down Lydecker without flinching. The file the Bureau had on her was full of crazy shit she might have done. The file on her Dad was full of even crazier stories. Half of it I still couldn't believe, even knowing that there were real monsters. Like me.
First night on the road we'd stopped at a shithole Indian casino outside of Reno. The rooms were cheap and we got our own rooms on separate floors. Don't know what she did all night but I played some blackjack, got trashed and passed out. Met her in the morning by the car and she didn't say a word.
Second night we stopped in Wyoming in a one stop light town. The motel along the highway only had two empty rooms and booked em both again. Found out the only restaurant in town was the local tavern too. The Galloping Goose, what a fucking name for a bar. Ended up back in my motel room staring at the cracked pain on the ceiling most of the night. The moon wouldn't be full for a week and a half and I could tell you exactly how many days it would be without looking at a calender.
Turned out her pal's cabin was closer to being in Canada then anything else. The place was north of Cut Bank which wasn't more then a spot were two paved roads crossed from what I could see. Drove the last two hours on roads that weren't even gravel, they were dirt. "This it?" The cabin wasn't more then a shack, but it had a barn behind it that was decent sized. Drove the rental over to it and parked. Figured I'd roll it inside later if there was room. Spotted a generator shed next to the shack and a satellite dish on the roof. Nothing like luxury.
Best part? It was fucking quiet. Popped the trunk and we started hauling supplies in. We'd picked up some food since she said all her friend kept on hand was pickled herring and oatmeal. "Which room you want Harvelle?"