Vincent had untarped a rusted pickup truck less than fifty yards from where Trevor had been watching for her. Rafferty thought that what really had Trevor bristled was that he hadn't noticed Vincent lurking so nearby.

The group had packed into the truck, and now it jostled along the dirt road to a destination unknown to Rafferty. Katrin sat up front next to Vincent. Rafferty was crammed into the tiny back seat with Trevor.

"How does he even know who Tarzan is?" asked a grumpy Trevor.

"No idea. Who is he?" Rafferty asked.

"He's in a book," answered Trevor.

"Got it," said Rafferty.

"There's no way he's read more books than me," said Trevor.

"But what if he has?" Rafferty asked with a smirk.

This was apparently too thorny a possibility for Trevor to consider, so he huffed and turned to stare out the window.

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"Did you steal this truck?" Katrin asked.

Vincent thought for a moment before answering.

"Can anyone really be said to own anything anymore?" he mused.

"Yes," snarked Trevor.

"Oh. Then yes. The answer to your question is yes," said Vincent.

Don't laugh. It will make Trevor too mad, and Vincent too happy. Don't laugh.

The truck finally came to a stop as the sky was just starting to color. They got out, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. A woman, tall with her hair cut short, was looking at something through a pair of binoculars. She was wearing the same textured leather that Vincent and the other Roughcoats wore. Rafferty thought she looked capable.

"Anything?" asked Vincent as he exited the truck.

"No activity," the woman answered, not putting down the binoculars.

"Everyone, this is Nicole. Nicole, this is everyone," said Vincent.

"Charmed," said Nicole.

"Your girlfriend?" asked Katrin, probably teasing. Rafferty found herself way more curious about the answer than she thought she would.

"Nikki? Oh, no. Professionally, we're very well matched. On a personal level, she hates my guts," Vincent said.

"True and true," said Nicole. Rafferty still hadn't seen her face.

"What is this place?" Rafferty asked.

Vincent pointed into the distance. In the low light, and without binoculars, Rafferty couldn't see much. She thought she could make out a small building. A cabin, perhaps.

"One of Alex's hidey holes. The one he thinks I don't know about. He keeps a lot of weapons there, so I'm playing a hunch. There are usually guards, though, so maybe I'm wrong," Vincent explained.

"No one has come in or out all night, and no one is watching us from the distance. There could be someone behind that ridge over there, but if there is they haven't moved, or made a sound, or lit a fire," Nicole said, lowering the binoculars and gesturing to the east.

She's pretty, I guess. In a severe sort of way. Real severe.

Rafferty switched her hair so that it was as black as she could manage. If this was a surveillance type job, she wanted to blend in. She was a little worried about Katrin's bright white gear.

"You think he's got whatever he used to blow up Dead Eric in there?" asked Katrin.

"I'm hopeful. Probably not all of it, but at least we'd know what were up against—" Vincent started to answer.

Katrin was already a white blur streaking toward the cabin.