Roland growled at Mike. He couldn’t fault the other post-human’s logic, but he’d be damned if he was going to spend several days surrounded by a bunch of religious nuts AND do it sober. Roland locked eyes with Skullfucker Mike, opened his bag and grabbed a heavy handful of drugs. He swallowed them all, one by one; pill bottles and baggies of hallucinogens and vials of amphetamines. He ordered his gut to reduce its acidity, so he could store the drugs for later regurgitation and consumption. Then he took one last deep hit from his opium pipe and handed it, and the bag, to Mike.

Manny popped the car into drive and they rolled off into the night.

They drove in silence for a while. Roland’s hindbrain would’ve marked the time if he hadn’t done such a successful job of pickling it with opium before they left. The quiet got awkward and boring pretty quick, though. He considered putting on music but, of course, his headware was severed from all outside networks. He couldn’t connect to the car anymore than he could blink-send an email. He decided to ask Manny to put something on.

“Hey guy? Music? Can you music?” Roland realized he was slurring. And his words were not coming out the way he’d intended. The kid—Manny—looked irritated.

“How fucked up are you right now?”

Roland gave a shrug that meant “very.”

“You know, my ass is on the line here too. I’m not made of whatever fucked up science you’ve got in your veins. I’d appreciate if you took this seriously.”

On an objective level, the kid’s request was fair. This must be a big moment for him, going off on a dangerous mission to enemy territory, etc. But to Roland this was Tuesday. Or whatever day it actually was. He’d disabled his clock and calendar years ago, because fuck that noise.

“Fuck that noise,” he said without meaning to. Good God, I’m so high.

“What?” Manny sounded confused and perturbed.

“Oh shit, sorry, man,” Roland rubbed his eyes, a little dazed from the opium. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I am the only other person in this car,” Manny said.

“Yeah but, y’know. I’m high as shit. Words come out sometimes, and they aren’t meant for anyone. They just happen.”

The car slowed and Manny pulled over to the shoulder of the cracked old highway. When the car came to a stop he put his head in his hands and breathed in and then out very slowly. It took Roland a moment to realize the kid was going through a panic attack. He’s never done anything like this before, of course he’s terrified. Roland wondered if he should do something to comfort the kid.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve killed about twelve-thousand armed people.”