Joe announced as they pulled onto I-80 West. Alex reached into her backpack. “And we’re not going to listen to Blink-182 the whole time.” Her face fell. “Okay, once,” he relented. She grinned and flipped the case open to extract the CD. “What are we going to do when we get there?” “Good question,” Joe nodded. “I have no fuckin’ idea. Malachai?” Yes, master. “You want to tell us what the hell we’re doing?” You’re going back to the beginning. Joe shook his head and rolled his eyes at Alex. “Can you hear him?” She nodded. “Why, Malachai? What will we find there? And how do we even find the beginning?” And you were a reporter once? “This is maddening,” Joe shrugged. “I should know better than to expect help from a demon.” Alex said nothing. “I guess when we get there tomorrow, we should dig up some old newspapers and try to track down the hotel where the first murder took place. Maybe you’ll be able to feel or see something there with your second sight.
