"No maps," Tom sighed, looking around the floor of the cab and in the glove box. He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched in the seat, tolerating it when Dexter lept from the back seat and curled up in his lap, anxiously licking his hands and neck.

"I guess we're gonna just drive until things start to look familiar..." he muttered, stroking his fingers over Dexter's skull distractedly.

"You got any clue, Mike?"