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Back The Everything Box Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. DEDICATION
  2. EPIGRAPH
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. THREE
  6. FOUR
  7. FIVE
  8. SIX
  9. SEVEN
  10. EIGHT
  11. NINE
  12. TEN
  13. ELEVEN
  14. TWELVE
  15. THIRTEEN
  16. FOURTEEN
  17. FIFTEEN
  18. SIXTEEN
  19. SEVENTEEN
  20. EIGHTEEN
  21. NINETEEN
  22. TWENTY
  23. TWENTY-ONE
  24. TWENTY-TWO
  25. TWENTY-THREE
  26. TWENTY-FOUR
  27. TWENTY-FIVE
  28. TWENTY-SIX
  29. TWENTY-SEVEN
  30. TWENTY-EIGHT
  31. TWENTY-NINE
  32. THIRTY
  33. THIRTY-ONE
  34. THIRTY-TWO
  35. THIRTY-THREE
  36. THIRTY-FOUR
  37. THIRTY-FIVE
  38. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  39. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  40. ALSO BY RICHARD KADREY
  41. CREDITS
  42. ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

At the edge of the parking lot, he stopped and breathed in the fresh morning air. Then the ground began to shake beneath his feet as the several hundred yards of the Sacramento River visible from the restaurant window straightened itself. He waited a few seconds so that everyone inside the restaurant could get a good look at his work. When he was certain they had, Larry’s Large Lad exploded. An orange fireball spiraled into the sky and with it dining booths, a milk shake machine, burning money, Leo Gorcey, and sundry body parts. The stranger didn’t turn around. He didn’t have to. He’d seen it all before and knew there wouldn’t be any survivors. It wasn’t until something thunked into the ground behind him that he turned around.

A few feet off to his left was the charred and battered statue of Larry’s Large Lad. Its blond head was scorched, but it was still grinning. The statue had come so close to beaning him that he wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t a coincidence. The stranger looked around but didn’t see a soul in sight, just cars passing on the freeway. Many were slowing to enjoy the unobstructed view of the burning restaurant and newly renovated river.

As he started up again, he thought about Caroline. If only she hadn’t wanted to know where he was going. Who was she really? She could have been working for anyone. Plus, his fries had been soggy. They’d obviously been microwaved, not properly cooked. The stranger loved hubris, but he couldn’t stand bad fries.

He walked across the freeway overpass and down again so he was back on the road headed south. In the distance, he heard sirens.

TEN

COOP HAD SPENT THE NIGHT ON AN INFLATABLE MATTRESS in Morty’s spare room. He didn’t like the idea of sleeping on a balloon, but after he lay down he found it was kind of comfortable. It was certainly better than the prison beds, which always seemed to be designed by aliens shaped like pretzels for other aliens that liked waking up with pudding for a backbone.

Morty had gone out earlier and Coop was in the living room flipping through TV channels. Nothing held his interest. There was something about an earthquake up north that destroyed a restaurant and straightened part of a river. Typical disaster porn stuff, he thought.