13th June 2071
[no time stamp]
You gotta be a moron to think it’s not a real thing.
For everything we do, there is a strange, indifferent balance somewhere else.
Sometimes you notice it, sometimes you don’t.
We left Redeye and Dakota at a place we thought was safe until Rusty would pick them up.
The old gas station where we hid was the karmic catalyst for the things that followed.
We got busted, but struck a deal that let us cross the border and save our hides.
The tanks below the building were a smuggler’s den with drugs worth 6 digits or more and we ratted the place out to the border patrol.
The girls should have been gone by then and they would have been…
It’s small things, sometimes.
Had I set a ward the spirit probably wouldn’t have found them, but it did.
The night before, Redeye told me that she didn’t think she’d survive leaving the camp. She thanked me, I gave her a smile and one of my trusty one-liners and things didn’t look so grim.
She died this morning when she bought Dakota enough time to escape the cops.
Nebraska didn’t take it very well and I can relate.
I found her in the woods after a while, think it’s the first time I’ve seen her cry.
Didn’t tell her to walk it off, didn’t give her a pep talk or common sense or any of that bullshit.
I’m in a frighteningly similar situation, so I just gave her a hug and carried her back to the gang.
I think she soldiered up after she realized what the money we’re about to earn could do to get revenge on those fuckers.
Rage is a hell of an anaesthetic.