Malcolm pulls out his phone and pulls up the picture of the town he took from the top of the lighthouse that day they were trapped there. He hadn’t been good for much in that condition and was only marginally better now, but he’d had the presence of mind to take the photo.

He holds it out for Raylan.

“What do you think?” Malcolm glances around. “If that’s not the Lodge,” he notes, gesturing towards their destination, “then I’m not sure there’s a big enough building here.”