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a level of higher thinking Leland thought the potential pursuers he’d outrun didn’t have.
         He stood frozen with indecision for only a moment. The first few steps made his head swim and he braced himself against the counter. He’d heard his father say it several times and after just the first experience with drunkenness made Leland agree with the old man: he was never drinking again.
         The door lock seemed too large and unwieldy for his fingertips. He fumbled with it once, then twice before he was able to get it open. By that time, Leland assumed the other person had already gone from the area.
         He swung the door wide anyway and called out to the empty parking lot, “Hey!”
         No one answered him at first. Leland was sure the person had gone and he could return to the store to do anything else except drink more alcohol. Then, he saw a man round the left side of the building.
         He was tall, white, and looked like the body-builder type. He carried a suitcase and a briefcase as though they weighed nothing and didn’t bother his bulging muscles. His sharp brown eyes took in Leland, found him non-threatening, and warmed when his disarming smile reached them.
         “Nice to meet you,” the man said as he stepped forward. When he was within distance for it, he put down his briefcase to free his right hand for a shake. “My name is Jameson.”
    Chapter Seven – What’s Wrong With the World – Leland and Jameson
         Jameson noticed how quickly Leland reengaged the lock once they got back inside the convenience store. His suspicions about the state of things kept receiving more confirmation. He’d left the apartment complex less than ten minutes before but had crossed considerable distance. He couldn’t see even the outline of the fire which consumed the home he’d left behind against the dark horizon. The young man was the first person he’d encountered since leaving the burning apartment building.
         “I’m Leland,” the young man said after some delay. He looked outside through the locked door once more before he turned back to Jameson. “Did something happen to you?”
         The question was open-ended enough Leland didn’t have to go into his own experiences or reason why he’d ask such a question. Jameson respected the kid and his inquiry.
         “My wife,” Jameson said with a nod. “Someone killed her.” He didn’t specify how, but he could see his admission didn’t startle the kid in the slightest. He’d definitely experienced something, as well. Jameson wanted to know what had happened.
         “Two crazy people killed my family,” Leland said. His voice could barely make it out of his mouth through the pain he felt. “They broke through the front window and just…” He trailed off with a shrug and moved toward Jameson, who leaned against the counter.
         “I’m sorry about that. It seems like there’s a lot of crazy shit going on right now.”
         Leland took a fold-out chair from the back and then returned to grab another for Jameson. He gestured to the free one as he sat and asked, “Have you heard anything else?”
         Jameson took the offered seat and looked around for somewhere he could set up his laptop. He turned his chair so he faced the counter and started unpacking his briefcase.
         “I haven’t, but I saw the men who were after my wife. There was something wrong with them. It feels like the whole world is wrong right now, doesn’t it?”
         Leland nodded his agreement with the assessment as Jameson booted up his computer. He decided not to bother with the cord as the machine was fully charged. If it took too long to read what was on Joselyn’s flash drive, he could always plug into the outlet behind the counter.
         Leland put his head in his hands. The ache behind his eyes had gotten worse. He didn’t know what else to talk to the stranger about. Maybe his job? His