Ominous clouds rolled over the sun as the group closed the door on the industrial freezer. Red looked up to the sky and shivered involuntarily. The warm winds so plentiful earlier in the day had long since vanished, and with the sun setting into a dark wall of clouds it looked like they were in for a rainy night. She knew it wouldn't do the streams any good, but she was secretly grateful that Madison was there. At least he had the foresight to have Mermaid-Man take pictures before the crime scene was totally washed away.

Red dusted her hands off just above her mud-splattered knees and turned to speak to Madison and Argent. Only the former was present, and with a nasty look on his face, too. "He ran for it?" she asked.

"He won't get too far." Madison replied. "Probably just trying to get someplace dry before the rain hits. We should do the same."

"There's a spare bunk in our cabin. You're welcome to it. I apologize in advance, but your upstairs neighbor is Mermaid Man's big brother. In your prayers tonight give a shout out to the gods of sturdy lumber and strong nails." She grinned.

The two reached the cabin as the first sprinkles fell. Red pointed toward a bottom bunk in the corner and when Madison turned to thank her all he got for his troubles was a great view of the cabin door. "Fan-freakin'-tastic," he thought to himself as he tucked the .38 under his pillow.

Some time later he heard footsteps approaching the cabin—someone was running hard to beat the rain—and narrowly dodged the swinging door as Red shot into the cabin with her arms loaded.

"This is the best I could do on short notice." She said as she flipped the gear out onto his bunk. Dry socks, a Turkey Turd Beer sweatshirt, a half-eaten bag of cheetos and a pack of smokes that looked as if it'd been shoved in a glove box since the early eighties. Manna from heaven as far as Blake Madison was concerned. "Now you owe me one." She grinned.

"What? Should I save your life again" he asked.

"Now," she growled, grabbing the cheetos and cigarettes, "This crap here is the only sin to be had for miles around. I suggest you be nice. Especially since I came up with a primo cock-n-bull story to keep people out of the freezer until we know more." With that admission she tossed the goods back on the bed and herself followed quickly behind them. She sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, head in hands, elbows on knees, and asked the 64K questions: "So, what's up with this Argent, and better yet, who's Teresa?"