Page 162 of Nearly Roadkill

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Shrug. So I asked her to please encrypt it again a million times before sending it on to you-know-who so they can get to that address.

END TOOBE JOURNAL ENTRY

NARRATIVE ENTRY, JABBATHEHUT

Budge struggles to keep up with the emails pouring onto the screen. He fires off one of his own to his boss.

To:Undersec’y LaBouchere

From:Ms. Budge

Subj:They are NOT connected!

Ma’am: I don’t know who authorized Henderson’s Kristallnacht, or on what evidence, but Scratch and Winc are operating *apart* from any gang. See attached logs as proof.

—B.

Another window pops up.

To:Ms. Budge

From:DevilsOwn

Subj:Grim Reapings

Okay, Ms. Cop. We got their towns located just before they jumped offline. And I lost three more men.

Winc is in Trenton, New Jersey.

Scratch is in Dingmans Ferry, PA.

We can’t narrow it any further until we get them back online, and unless they’re complete duncewads, they’re not coming back.

Tread softly, lady. I’ve grown fond of you.

—Yr devil

It goes like this every time, he reminds himself. Halfway through the pursuit, it always looks too dark to see. He types:

To:DevilsOwn

From:Ms. Budge

Subj:As Ye Sow…

Sorry about your lost buddies. That’s part of the job. You’re a good man, Dev.

Now, get me those street addresses. I’m doubling your bonus right now, and I’ll double it again when you get the perps.

I want you online. I want you everywhere. If they so much as sneak a byte out of the Net, I want you on them like gnats on rotten fruit.

—Budge

SEND! And yet another window opens.

To:Ms. Budge

From:Undersec’y Sec

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