It was bucketing down by the time we got there. On the plus side, this meant the streets were all but deserted – no sane person would be out here in this. But the pouring rain also meant that we couldn’t count on Reeve waiting around for long. Assuming he’d come out here in the first place. Assuming he’d even got the message. Assuming the million other things that could’ve gone wrong hadn’t gone wrong. Don’t think about it. We shot straight off the concrete path and down one of the dirt riding tracks. My head swam with déjà vu. This was the same path we’d started out from two weeks ago, when we were following Crazy Bill’s map out to the wall. This time around, the path was wet and slippery and turning to mud at the edges. The trees pressed in from both sides, and in my head I saw armed security guards hiding behind every one of them, training their weapons on me. Then again, anyone out here who wanted me dead could just wait for the pneumonia to set in and save themselves the trouble.
