Page 230 of Fallout (Crank 3)


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The question becomes, what next?

COVERING THE SHORT DISTANCE

Across the room makes me

break out in a disagreeable

sweat, despite the chill in

the air. And in my heart.

Coward.

That’s what I am. Afraid

to face down my ghosts,

despite hating the way

they haunt my every day.

Idiot.

It strikes me suddenly

that I could be all wrong

about this guy. So what if

his eyes are sort of like mine?

Dimwad.

Totally. What are the odds

that this is my father, anyway?

Much too coincidental, right?

Yet when I close the gap, I’m sure.

Son of a bitch.

MONTANA, IT SEEMS

Knows him pretty well. They stand,

barely touching. Intimate. Casual.

I hate to interrupt. Hate to know.

Oh hey, Hunter, Montana says.

This is Brendan. Bam. The name.

Is it one I’ve heard somewhere?

Brendan looks at me, clueless.

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