Page 90 of Anathema Codex

“Never mind.”

* * *

I’m starting to get tired again. My eyes are dry because of all of the fucking smoke that’s been blowing back into my face and I need to stop to reset my batteries.

“Where are we?” the kid asks in a thick tone as he sits up, places his palms against the dashboard and stretches.

“Fuck if I know,” I reply truthfully. “Maybe we should have kept the wannabe alive a little longer,” I tell him with a grin.

He rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest and glances out the windshield.

“We’re in the desert already?”

“Mhm,” I reply as I rub my eyes again. “Once I know where I’m going, I like to get there as quickly as possible.”

“So, if you know where we’re going, then where are we?”

“The desert,” I reply dryly. “Just sit back and shut up. You’re starting to get on my nerves.”

With a grunt, the kid leans his head against the window.

Another twenty minutes of driving around backroads through the Mojave Desert and I’m ready to crash the fucking truck. Thankfully there aren’t any cacti close to the road.

I pull over and cut the engine, then retrieve the keys. Hopping out and stretching my legs I wander around the front of the truck. Leaning my head back, I clasp my hands and bring them over my head, feeling every muscle in my back rippling from exhaustion.

I rub the back of my neck when I’m done and glance around. I don’t see whatever bullshit community Trixie’s joined, but I can feel the nervous energy that turns into blind rage whenever she’s around, so I know at the very least we’re heading in the right direction.

Of course, had I brought Ichabod like he asked me to, he would have sniffed her cunt out a mile away.

Not that they ever fucked.

At least not to my knowledge.

I’m pretty sure that she doesn’t fuck her charity cases, just lulls them into a sense of false stability then attacks like the snake that she is.

I rest against the truck, bend forward, and place my hands on my knees.

There’s no time for a quick beauty nap before I see Trixie again.

When a snake is ready to strike, the only way to get it to see reason is to cut its fucking head off and that’s just what I intend to do.

I just have to find her first.

And for that all I need to do is get back in the truck and follow the smoke signals.

EIGHTEEN

Rise of the Jackal pt. 2

AFTYN

We’ve been weaving around narrow roads off the highway for a while now, and the urge to jerk the wheel and send us careening into the desert is returning with a vengeance.

Lakyn Meyer is a fucking stain on this planet, and all I want to do is erase him from it. Sending the bitch in the backseat along with him is almost too kind, because I know she’d want to be with him anyway—but she deserves to die for killing Willa.

They both do.

Wrecking the truck in the middle of this wasteland won't get me anywhere though. With my luck, I'd be the only one injured and Lakyn would walk off into the sunset with this Beatrix chick while Daphne followed at his heels like the bitch she is.Fuck that.

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