The second the door opened, Rangi pushed past Ralph into the RV. It smelled the way it always did, from the last time she remembering being in it. "Use all the PTO you want," she said, dismissing that part with a wave of her hand. Her voice was scratchy, croaking. Like she was recovering from strep. It was close enough.
She stared him down for a moment. Felt her heart leaping into her throat at the thought. "You're not quitting," she said firmly, much like when a mother chastises a child. Oh, god, was she becoming her mother? She loosened her stance a bit. "And you're not leaving. You can't. Where would you go? It's not safe for people like us out there."
Grunting a bit, Ralphie spun around and began rifling through the drawers of his little kitchenette. He seemed to discover the pack of cigarettes for which he had been searching and hurriedly and clumsily popped onto in his mouth with a shaking hand. "You orghta use some, boss. I'd offer you one, but sounds like maybe he had a few too many." He rattled the container in her direction. "Where the fuck is my lighter." This brought a newly frantic search through the drawers.
"It's a free market. I can quit if I wanna quit, capiche?" he insisted petulantly, mostly arguing just to argue. Ralphie spun around to face her, then, and seemed to slump a little, removing the smoke from his lips to instead balance it behind his ear. "I dunno. Vegas. Lima. The road. Shit keeps happenin' here that...it ain't safe here. I killed someone, Rangi. Someone who didn't have it coming. And look, I know...I know my hands ain't exactly clean, but after the last time, I swore, I fuckin' swore I wouldn't let this goddamn hunger..." He swallowed hard. "I'm a monster. I gotta go someplace where I can't hurt no one." He sniffed. "I'm lying to your face. I gotta go where they can't catch me and punish me."




















