Fallout (Crank 3)

struck and forgot about

Kristina. Mom sent a signed

book along. Hopefully, the roads

will be clear and they’ll make it

back in time for the big meal.

Mom’s already in the kitchen,

baking pies and kneading

the dough for her homemade

cinnamon rolls. A Christmas

morning staple around here.

That and butcher-shop bacon.

Been the same breakfast every

Christmas morning that I can

remember. And before that, too,

I’m told. The boys and Leigh

are still fast asleep. I’m sure

Kristina is too. I’ll pick her

up a little later. After I make

another stop in Reno.

HER CAR IS HERE

The house is dark. Silent

in the growing light. I let

myself in with the spare key

I had made and never told

her about. Shh. In stocking

feet along the hallway, listening.

Hoping she is alone. I hear

only her breathing as I steal

down the hall, into the familiarity

of a room filled with Nikki’s