Sierra whirled around before the man was even finished talking. Not a man, exactly, but boy didn’t fit.
Hmm.
It was Jay. The Japanese-American boy glared at her through his mop of hair.
Oh. Hi. What the fuck?
Did Yan say something to him about Sierra?
“Jay. You weren’t invited here.”
“I can see why. Electricity, running water, food… you’ve got it made.
Ahhh. So that’s where we’re going.
Was wondering where you were going, tried following you, but you disappeared. Thought we’d missed our chance until we saw some ankle-biters running down the street with plastic containers of food. Seems you’re hoarding the good shit.”
I mean, where do you think the ankle-biters (no actual ankle-biting, kids, we’ve had enough cannibalism) were bringing the food?
“We’re not hoarding,” she spoke. She had to swallow to clear her throat. She knew she had to sound confident, “This is Skitter’s place.”
I’m not 100% sure saying that was a good idea, but at least it’s a good reason.
“Skitter’s, sure. If she’s still alive. But not your space. Don’t see why you can have this stuff and we can’t.”
You can. They are actively working on distributing it.
Krixwell Liveblogs 