Fallout (Crank 3)

An ulcer, emptying hatred

inside me. And I don’t

know why. Life is pretty good.

So, what the hell?

AS I PONDER THE QUESTION

A key turns uselessly in the lock—

uselessly because I neglected

to secure the door behind me.

Nikki peeks cautiously around

it, jumps back like she’s been

bitten. Guess she didn’t expect

to find some guy standing here.

“Hey,” I yell, “it’s only me.”

Nikki slams back across

the threshold, almost knocks

me over. Hunter! You scared

the heebie-jeebies out of me!

Heebie-jeebies. She’s totally

cute. I pull her into my arms,

happy to concentrate on her slate

blue eyes, instead of the green ones

in the mirror. “Sorry,” I say,

meaning it. And to prove

just how much, I give her one

of my world-famous kisses.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit of

an exaggeration, but I have been

told I’m an exceptional kisser.

I give it my all, and Nikki responds.

Her kiss is like a sudden fever—