The ongoing adventures of Blonsky/Chris: Part 3

[moralimperative]

continued from...

"...but then it turned out it was actually a cop car," Chris really hasn't stopped speaking since they'd set off that morning through the ruins of Harlem towards the interstate, for all that he seems to get distracted every few feet or so by this or that; a lost hubcap, somebody's discarded cell phone, the blown-out storefront of a pharmacy-- he's been scavenging since sunrise, showing no apparent discretion towards what gets stowed away into the gym bag he'd found in the closet of the house they'd holed up in for the night and what gets left behind, "one of those unmarked ones? Anyway, the radio comes on with the ignition." He shrugs, as though that thought explains itself. "But he was a real nice guy, I even got to ride in the front."

Somehow he's conveniently left out the part where "borrowing" a cop car was an integral part of transporting 76 toilet seats and a lamp.

Comments

[likeamonster]

Blonsky allows the talking to go on simply because he knows he can't stop it. It's a soothing white noise buzzing behind him as he surveys the destruction he'd left behind. He couldn't remember doing most of it. Empty street cars and houses; it was like a damn zombie apocolypse.

"And that's your best story, is it?" Blonsky says once the silence reigns longer than a few seconds. He pauses in step, glances back to his companion. "A cop car? You really need to get out more." He pauses, crosses his arms, observing finally what Chris has been doing this whole time. "That bag was for practical things. Not junk."