Fallout (Crank 3)

Said we were better off without

the bitch. If I had been as big as I am

now, I would have made him sorry.

No wonder he hates his dad.

Mine’s a major screwup, but

at least he isn’t corpse-hearted.

WE STOP AT A DINER

In Bishop. Splurge on a meat loaf

dinner, the Christmas Eve special.

That’s a little weird, I guess, but

hey. Special is special. And cheap,

too. I eat every bite, mop the gravy

from the plate with the last crumbs

of a big homemade biscuit. Good

thing the place is semi-empty.

I probably look like exactly what

I am—a homeless person

who hasn’t eaten much in a week.

The waitress comes over to check

on us. She smiles. Hungry, eh?

Can I get you another biscuit?

Then, to Kyle, Don’t like meat loaf?

I hadn’t even noticed that he’s sort

of just picking at his. It’s fine. Guess

I’m feeling a little under the weather.

He looks it too. Parchment pale

and a bit shaky. She’ll have a biscuit.

I WAIT FOR THE WAITRESS TO GO

“You okay? It would be better

if you could eat something.