Malcolm Bright

Raylan's expression was one of amused doubt. He'd heard the stories. Maybe the mental institutions were the exception to the rule. Leading the way out and down, Raylan nodded.

"You tell me where to go, I'll drive," he said, fishing out his keys and unlocking the car. "We'll see if it takes 20 minutes with someone who doesn't know where the hell I am, functionally speaking."

With a turn of the key, the car sprung to life and Raylan pulled them out into traffic.

"Will he know we're coming?"