(THIRTY-THREE) Escape from Midwitch

Fantasmagoria

Jack stared through the barred window of his cell. Past the door in an adjacent room, four thousand gallons of Neverod was stacked to the ceiling in fifty-gallon drums. Pimpernel hadn’t been making the drug. Amazon scientists had been supplying him. They’d been playing both sides, forcing a gang war in an effort to destabilize the city.

And it had worked.