Jul 13, 2006 10:02
How many days from San Francisco to this shit little hole-in-the-fucking wall called Cooksfield? If I'd had a car, less than a day. On horseback the whole way it might have taken a week or so. But going most of the way on foot, far too long and I haven't really kept track but it feels like a long time since I said goodbye to Yorick.
Shit. Yorick, Yorick. It isn't the worst detour anyone's asked me to make. After all, I followed you and that monkey all the way across the country and had you until that stupid ninja bitch stole Ampersand, goddamn it.
Now that took a little bit of time. Mom is so worried about you. Not as worried about me, though; she never was. Never will be. But this countryside isn't bad. Different from the east, and I feel like I've seen it all. More than I ever wanted to see.
[not yet, Hero, I'll see you in hell, we can burn together]
Shut up, Victoria. You're not my queen any more. Shut up, shut up. It might take the rest of my life but I'll get rid of you. You don't own me any more.
No one owns me.
And there, just like the address on the envelope says, a church and a light's on, burning upstairs someplace. It's in good shape, but a lot of places out here are in better shape than the places back east. Less crowded, less people. I like it that way. Now feet, you be nice and quiet. Don't make a fucking sound, don't step on any sticks that are gonna break. I don't want to have to kill anyone else, ever again, unless it's an amazon.
Front door's locked, so up and over the back fence nice and quiet and... yeah, this is the place.
I wonder what Yorick was doing here, but I try not to wonder too hard.