Why did I do it? Why did I sell out humanity for such a paltry sum?
They owed me. I worked hard, got a degree, entered the workforce, got married. We had a son, Mandy and me–Carl. He was the sweetest thing, all wet, pink and balling. But he was ours. Ours got to be too much for Mandy–she left me, took Carl. I gave in to the bottle, lost my job.
It’s how I ended up running a meat packing plant in Nebraska, land of corn-fed beef. Me? Who was earning six figures, reduced to this.
So the $30,000 seemed a princely sum, and I was ripe for the picking. They had targeted me, knew my story. And I was all too easy to take out.
So I took the money, did the job, and lived it up for awhile in prodigality. Then I remembered my son, Carl.
Somehow, I made it home to Chicago.
I’m guessing the assaults on the meat chain were coordinated, because by the time I got to Chicago it was too late.
Carl was waiting for me.
But it wasn’t Carl, not really.
Have you ever had to shoot your child in the face?
Now I’m stuck here, and my supplies are getting low. Forty-six days, and I haven’t seen a single living soul.