Brent, Cole, and Blake had all been piled up in Blake’s car and on their way to Minnesota. According to Lucas, his contact was there along with the suspected witch. They knew they did not have long, but the drive was over twenty hours long if traffic was light. They all were exhausted and agitated, being cooped up in the small car for over fifteen hours. Blake’s car was a classic 1969 Chevrolet Camaro convertible, jet black with one red pinstripe down the vehicle's middle. It was his father's, and he never drove it much, but he figured since this was a boy’s trip to break out his best vehicle.
“How much longer do we got, man?” Brent sitting in the backseat was getting uncomfortably hungry.
Blake looked at him in the rearview mirror. “A couple more hours. I am trying to get us there as fa
