#silverbulletsandsalt

"So, your first instinct is probably to try and kill me because I'm different," Kerry said, a slight bite to her voice as she made her away towards the man "is that what you do? Kill anything that isn't different?"

She stopped, a few feet in front of him, her face now matching the harshness in her voice. "But, I have a little surprise for you, Tobias, you can't kill me. Isn't that a nice change for you?"

Of all the places Tuesday had ever been, California was her least favorite. Even with the stark differences in the landscape, everything about San Francisco reminded her of her hometown of Fresno, and with the thoughts of home came the memories of her family…and the inevitable, daunting feeling of loneliness.

However, as she stepped out of her newly-acquired truck, looking across the bay at the target—the infamous Alcatraz—San Francisco was starting so seem pretty fricking cool.

The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and Tuesday had already checked into her motel, but it was too late to show up at the crime scene in her FBI pantsuit, so she decided to hit up the nearest bar. If there was any cure for the California blues, alcohol was definitely it.