After we left dad back at the camp, Jonathan and I went to this spot we used to call our "sanctuary" - the suspended train tracks over the river. We loved watching the gorgeous skyline and the bright orange sunsets. Also, we never had to worry about being hit by the actual trains, since that line had been deactivated for decades.

We thought it was the most wondeful place in the whole country. We were obviously lying to ourselves - neither one of us had ever went out of town for more than a couple of days. But those tracks were all the beauty we could possibly need.

I was strumming my guitar while Jonathan took a long drag from his cigarette.

"How's the songwriting going?" He asked."

"Not that great. What rhymes with stuck and depressed?"

"A lot of things. Just listen to some Nirvana. You'll find out."

"You know that's not really my thing, dude..."

"Alright, just stick with your Jim Croce, alright, Laura? When you get to the part where amps are invented, then you call me."

He flicked the butt into the wind and continued:

"So, how should we do this thing?"

"I have no idea, Jonathan. If we go around the camp trying to find Dos Santos, he's just gonna run away again."

"And if we go up to Carver empty handed, he might take it as offense."

"I suppose. If we are gonna deal with some kind of psycho, there's no way to do it in the clear. Maybe there is a way to make the Lizards think he's not at the camp anymore."

"That sounds simple enough. But how do we keep them away from us after that?"

"I really have no idea. We could try to intimidate them by our numbers. I mean, there are ten times more of us then there are aging bikers."

"But I'm sure they know how vulnerable you are, Laura, with all them kids and seniors. They'll know where to apply the pressure, being in the intimidation business for so long."

I put my guitar away and rubbed my eyes. My head was starting to hurt with all those problems that were not actually mine to deal with.

"There's just no way to do this without sitting down with them first. Where do you think I can find them?"

Jonathan explained to me that the Lizard's hangout spot was a little dive bar downtown that was so shady that it didn't even had a name. The only reason you could call it a bar was because of the little plastic furniture outside, Corona-gold chairs and a couple of tables. He thought it was safer to meet there, since it was a public place. Plenty of bystanders and reasons for them to keep the shooting to a minimum.

"So I guess we go up to their bar and try to talk it out." I said. "You try to get some back up with your grandmother, maybe those tracker guys she mentioned, and stay close."

"Sure, I can do that." He said with a nod.

"And if the old Lizards try to go insane on us, we'll be forced to go insane right back."