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was a consolation. She didn’t give a fuck about Gary or his wanker, drawn-on beard. He could lick her asshole for all she cared.
    She pursed her lips and made a mental note to try that in Tennessee. She’d heard good things, but hadn’t gotten around to giving it a go yet. Thousands of years on this earth, and she still had things to explore.
    “Well, have a good trip, Ms. Elizabeth,” Gary said as he opened the door for her. She slipped out with him in tow and he slapped his hand on the trunk. The cabby popped it then stuffed her bag inside gently and slammed it back. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” He smiled nervously at her, awaiting her approval since he’d already gotten paid.
    She just stared back at him, and couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Gary,” she said. You dumb fuck , she thought. If I find what I’m looking for, you and the rest of your whole damned species are going to be licking my twat in the pits of hell . As it damned well should have been long ago . She smiled, almost laughed at the next thought that came along behind it.
    But at least I won’t have to worry about them bitching about the sulfur smell anymore …

1.
    Hot, lazy days spent on the Caledonia River were the best days of all, Nicholas Reeve thought. Of course, this day was particularly hot, and the Caledonia was shrunk up to about half its normal size thanks to a near-record drought, but it was still a day spent on the river, and that was a hell of a lot better than tending to the duties assigned the sheriff of Calhoun County, Tennessee. Especially since said duties were pretty fucked up nowadays.
    The heat blazed down from a high sun overhead. Reeve had been out on the water since before daybreak, his bass boat rocking gently with the current. He’d drift a little farther, another mile or so closer to the Tallakeet Dam, and then he’d start the engine up and head back upriver. The water level six weeks ago had been high enough that he’d have washed over the Tallakeet. Now it was so low he’d be bumping up against concrete until he nosed into one of the intakes, which were partially exposed, the water had sunk so low.
    Reeve dangled the line, fiddled with the reel a little, drawing it in slowly. He had a good lure on it, one that had caught him a fair few fish over the years. He felt the heat radiating down on his arms, which were already tanned a golden brown after a long, lovely summer. It was October now, and the weather had shown a few hints that those glory days were drawing to a close for fall, but you wouldn’t know it to look at the Caledonia.
    Reeve turned his head to glance downriver toward the reservoir that backed up behind the dam. He’d heard his momma tell stories about how the Tennessee Valley Authority had to evacuate some little towns and settlements when they’d built the Tallakeet in the thirties. He’d grown up seeing the top of a silo sticking out of the reservoir, wondering why anyone would build one of those in the middle of the water. Brick and stone, top collapsed God-only-knew how many years ago, it was a remnant that had stood the test of time.
    Now he could see the exposed bottom of the thing, along with an old collapsed barn, and some other structures down by the water’s edge. It was off in the distance some considerable ways, but it was there, no doubt. He hadn’t seen the banks of the river this low in his lifetime. Hell of a thing.
    Reeve took a breath of the fresh air and finished pulling in his lure. It popped out of the water with a gentle sucking noise, the sound of the reel making a low hum as he finished bringing it back. He flipped the bail without thinking and threw out another cast and listened to it fly through the air, hook catching the sunlight and then landing with a gentle plop on the surface of the river. He let it sit there for a minute, rippling out in little circles before he started reeling it in again.
    “Why don’t you try and catch a glimpse of