The ride back to the airport was subdued, neither wanting to discuss their findings on their somewhat inconclusive trip. When it was Mary’s time to drive, Joe took the opportunity to study the boxes he had received. ‘Spirit eh?’ he thought. He closed his eyes, shutting out the verdant forests and mirror like lakes they trundled past. Within him, he searched for the nexus of power, the one that had awoken when he was close to death. Sensing the now familiar fire, he attempted contact. The flame of his life offered no response, neither flickering nor wavering. His brow creased in frustration as he redoubled his efforts. ‘What am I supposed to feel?’ he asked the memory of Augustus, knowing no answer would come. ‘Fat lot of good of a teacher you are’ he moaned, realising that he had been given next to bugger all in terms of decent advice. ‘“Apply some spirit..” he said.’ Joe refocused on his flame, attempting to move it. Thinking, he moved the box closer to his belly button. Instantly an agonising pain erupted from his midsection, causing him to double over. His forehead was only saved from smashing against the dashboard by his seatbelt.

“Alright there Joe?” Mary asked, applying the brake. Joe held up his hand to wave away her concern. “Indigestion I think Mary, I’m fine thanks”. She laughed in response, turning on the radio as they regained their former speed. “That’s just grand Joe, just don’t make a mess of the car, it’s a rental.” Joe groaned but could only smile at her mirth.

Turning his attention back to his core, he grumbled as the echoes of the pain subsided. ‘I think what happened there was that I was trying to move the whole flame. Maybe…’ with actions rather than words he jumped right into his next experiment. Instead of trying to move the whole source, he mentally tried to grab a small part and move that. A sense of excitement welled within him. ‘There was movement, I know it!’ Trying again, he sensed a tendril of his spirit break off from the main mass. “Bugger” he cursed out loud, garnering another look from Mary. “Do you want to stop in the woods here? These seats won’t be easy to clean and the smell…”

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Joe, mortified that this beauty could even be thinking such about him, turned a bright crimson. “No, it’s not like… well not like that. I’m not going to shit myself Mary”. She cackled once more in response.

“Okay casanova, but seriously let me know if we need to stop”. Joe nodded brusquely, rubbing his face with his hands. “Thanks Mary, I’m fine” he nodded towards the road “we’ve a flight to catch.”

“Right you are”

Thankfully Mary returned her attention to the road and the subject was forgotten. Likewise, Joe paused his experimentation and took out his father’s journal once more. “What do you plan to do now?” Mary asked, noticing the journal. Joe rubbed the cover of the familiar book as he replied “I don’t know. I suppose find out where these other sites are that my father worked at, maybe there'll be some clues there.” he sighed. “I’ve learned nothing useful from this trip really, just created more mysteries. I feel like I’ve opened Pandora’s box just to find that within it are a million more boxes with more mysteries and tribulations. For all I know he was killed in the same manner you almost were and there simply isn’t any evidence to chase down”.

Mary's attention was taken for a moment changing lanes as she overtook a vehicle. She didn’t appreciate Joe bringing up her death so casually and had a mind to tell him so. Despite this, as she looked at his forlorn expression she couldn’t bring herself to do so. The next words he spoke, however, surprised her. “Regardless, however, wherever, whenever my old man died. I know that Black Rock, their people, and their bosses are to blame. That greasy fuck made that clear. And I will make them pay” he stared her resolutely in the eyes and then turned back to the journal to study it once more. Mary felt her heart beat a rapid tattoo, especially as she looked at where he had clenched the door handle which had been mangled like putty.

“Joe” she started “I have a proposition”.