13
FSG huffs and puffs as he hauls us across the lake. From here, Hemlock Island looks like a panel of green trees surrounded by a calm sheet of dark water. A weight of foreboding settles into my bones.
Looks like I’m in for some nature-time. Yuck.
I grew up in Purgatory, so I dig the whole rundown industrial scene. Take me to a cracked-up parking garage and—BAM—I feel right at home. To me, forests are a whole lot of irritating. In my experience, the woods are basically packed with bugs and nameless goo.
Oh, well. Anything to find that codex and get this over with. Not to mention stopping Lucifer’s coin from unleashing unholy Hell.
FSG heaves on the oars once again. The dude looks wrinkly, sweaty, and ready to keel over. I tap his shoulder gently. “Would you like some help, uh…” I bar
