“As opposed to California? It’s actually pretty nice right now. There’s a cool breeze in the air, but believe me that’s not why I’m sticking around.”
“Finally find a cute guy worth your time? It’s Massachusetts, kid. He’s probably a fag.”
“Not funny. I’m heading to a town called Greifsfield. Our boy seemed determined to go there and I’d like to know why.”
“Probably figured it’s a small backwater town with lots of tourists. Nobody notices it when the occasional one goes missing.”
“There’s more. I’ve got an address to check up on. Something’s up.”
“Be careful,” he said. “Check in with me twice a day. First time you don’t, I’m coming out there myself.”
“You? Sorry Dex, this job requires tact.”
“Fuck you. And be careful.”
“As can be.”
She tossed the phone into the empty seat beside her and yawned. Route 90 didn’t yield another sign of life, although she might have welcomed one. That creepy isolated feeling was coming back. For some reason, the barren landscape unnerved her. Frustrating, considering she usually felt victorious after pulling off a successful job. Not tonight, however.
Amanda did her best to combat the dread, switching the radio over to 80’s hits and crooning along to Flashdance, What a Feeling.
The bad feeling gnawed at her gut, no matter how many times she tried dismissing it as intuition. It told her things were going to get a lot worse in the upcoming days.
I’m too much of a pessimist, she thought.
But she paid it no mind as she passed a sign that read: Greifsfield, 40 miles.
Amanda read it with a sigh.
It wasn’t ending tonight.
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Machines of the Dead 2 Page 18