CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
We headed west, toward the sunset.
Just call us the supernatural caravan.
Driving through the city streets, we were a sight to behold. My busted up 1993 Lincoln Town Car with a bunched up trunk, Bo driving white-knuckled, me in the passenger seat leaning against my fist, deep in thought, the black SUV behind us driven by Moo Moo with his perpetual snarl, his menthol-smoking passenger, and, of course, the giant grasshopper demon following us at 10,000 feet. Every once in a while, I saw him teetertottering in the sky. The wind must have been brutal up there. With the sun setting, the wind was going to be unforgiving now.
The city streets gave way to the suburbs, and before long, we were on the west side of town. Compared to the ghetto, the west side was paradise. Corp
