Four days have passed since the Motor Duel that cut the Tax Patrol in half. Four days since Rain was last seen. Four days since the hard, hard blood rain ended.
The Arrows are on the move. Admiral hired you to chase down the Tax Patrol, exterminate them. What did he offer you for this, Dog?
While August and Bon are in Pike handling their own work, Sounder's back at the Hideout with Zeus, who woke up with an aching knee. They didn't just stay back because they're injured, though. The pair of them are working on something for you, Dog. What is it?
Rainey's riding with you, right beside you. Cujo's up ahead, riding hard, teeth gritted and ready to kill. Belka's at the back of the pack, with Grunge and the others. The sun's baking overhead, and this far south of Safeco, everything smells like rotting flesh.
Ahead you see trails of smoke. It lines up with the intel on where the Tax Patrol's licking their wounds.
You're in your fancy jeep riding with the grounder bikes of the Arrows. Joey's in your passenger seat, buckled in, a rifle laying across his lap. In his right hand is some kind of multi-colored yarn weave, a few flecks of plastic embedded in. Joey has been carrying it since you picked him up at Pike, after his visit with Gates' flock. While the Arrows are loaded up for combat, and he's right in the middle of it, your protege can't keep the tiniest of smiles off his face as you drive.
The jeep's holding up well on these broken, dusty roads. Hard clay and miles of dead ground between you and the smoke ahead.
Laika hired you for this work. What did she offer? Did you ask why she's doing this, why she wanted Joey along?
Last night, Kitsap came to see you at your room, seemed like she wanted to sleep with you. What did you do?