Going Home by Angery American

across her face. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and let out a little squeal. “Let me get my stuff. I’ll be right back!” She took off at a run toward her car.
    Oh, this is just fuckin’ great. What in the hell are you going to do with a twenty-two-year-old girl? I was thinking when the other side of my brain piped up, I can think of a few—
    Don’t even think about it.
    Can’t blame me for tryin’ . I was really starting to get a little worried about these intracranial discussions.
    I was watching her as she was heading back toward me. A guy called out to her, “Hey, where you goin’?”
    “I’m gonna walk home. Can’t wait any longer.” She turned quickly away and started walking. The dude was standing there with his arms half raised and palms out.
    “Aww, come on.”
    I was standing there shaking my head when she came back up. She had a large black JanSport backpack on. There was some sort of a blanket rolled up and strapped to the bottom of it. She was in jeans and running shoes and had a North Face jacket on.
    “Friend of yours?” I asked.
    “He wishes,” she said with a sour look. “He’s part of the reason I want out of here. Acts like he’s the great white hunter and is taking care of me. I know what he’s up to. I’m not going to hold you up, and I’m not some weak little girl, either. I’ll do what I have to do to get home. What’s your name, anyway?”
    “Name’s Morgan. You know what you’re in for here, right?” I wanted to see how aware she was.
    “I can shit in the woods, Morgan.” That made me laugh; she smiled.
    “Okay, then, let’s go.”
    We headed down the road, walking for a while without talking much. More people were on the road—not many but certainly more than I had seen in the last few days. Most were loping along. They weren’t interested in talking. They looked—resigned, I guess would be the way they looked. Reality was setting in. You could see it on their faces and by the way they carried themselves. I was surprised that Jessica wasn’t talking her head off. I really expected her to be yakking at me to the point of insanity.
    I was the one that actually spoke first. “What made you ask to walk with me?”
    “You were the only person that came by that didn’t come into the rest area. You have that pack and just look like you have your shit together.” She was very matter-of-fact.
    “So all the people there have been drifting in?” I asked.
    “Some of them were there from the beginning. Like that guy that was talking to me, Luke. He was there from the start, him and his dad. They had the pavilion with all the blue tarps on it. They kind of took over. They act like they run the place.” She was shaking her head as she spoke. “Luke acted like I was his woman. Oh, he was real nice, but I could tell where it was going. He wasn’t going to keep taking no for an answer much longer, if ya know what I mean.” She raised her eyebrows as she said that last line. She had stepped up beside me now.
    “Any violence there, or did everyone just kinda get along?” I was curious to see how people were reacting. I hadn’t been around too many people. At least not too many I hadn’t killed. This thought brought me down; it’s kinda like a weight that will settle on you if you let it. I brushed it aside.
    “Not really. Luke’s dad has a big-ass revolver. He appointed himself the de facto law. It was actually kind of a good thing. He kept a bunch of fights from getting out of hand. But at the same time, whatever he wanted, he got. No one argued with him because no one else there had a gun.”
    “Well, that’s the new reality. We used to say it was the golden rule—he who has the gold makes the rules. Now it’s going to be the law of lead—he who has the most lead makes the rules.” She just looked over at me and didn’t say anything.
    We had been walking for a couple of hours and were coming up to a wood mill on the south side of the