Fallout (Crank 3)

She’s not even here. Still,

I can’t let it go. Girl. Man. Mostly

dead or no, a predator is a predator.

You can’t let it roam unshackled.

“What did you do to Ashante?”

I demand, stomping right up

in front of her and grabbing

her by her hair. I expect her

to jerk away, swing at me, or

something. But she just sits

there like a mannequin.

I didn’t do anything to her,

but she did plenty for me.

ZERO REMORSE

Zero guilt. Zero emotion.

She really is evil, or at

least what she smoked

this afternoon is. I can’t

take it. I want her to hurt.

I swing a stiff backhand,

slap her face. Hard.

She animates suddenly

and we are on the floor.

She is stronger than I thought.

Her right hand connects.

Fingernails bite into my

cheek, sink through my skin.

All the hate and pain and fear

I’ve ever felt in my life ball

up into one vicious biting,