Day Sixty-Five

Day 65: 05 Oct 2010

Cassie slept through the day, got up once to eat, and went back to sleep all night, leaving me on my own. Her backup place was in Vegas Heights, and it was a dump of a one-bedroom apartment in a small complex with bars on the windows.

You know, I'm pretty sure you could replace the word "Heights" with "Ghetto" in most neighborhoods and still be completely accurate. I heard random gunshots throughout the day and night, but it wasn't as if I was worried for my safety, or Cassie's for that matter. Bullets don't bother me -- it's not like they can do much but mess up my clothes. And Cassie seemed comfortable enough in the hood.

What I didn't hear, not once, was a police siren. And if Travis was going to come at us out here, we'd have plenty of warning. He was most likely to muscle his way to us; there would be plenty of gunfire and explosions to tip us off.

I was worried, though. About food. I hadn't eaten in weeks, and I couldn't afford to starve the slug, who was already on the decline. I'd need him soon.

A drug dealer two streets over provided the first meal. I wish I could say I felt bad about it, but I really didn't. Not a bit. Years with the slug had corrupted my already shaky morality. He was simply scum, and served no useful purpose while he drew breath. Once I ripped the warm, beating heart from his chest, at least he served some purpose -- to nourish the slug. He became useful -- possibly for the first time in his life.

When Cassie woke this afternoon, I was feeling much better. My strength had returned. It was time to put my plans into motion.