“We’re going up to Tooele to huff soot,” says Mickey. “Wanna?”
The nerve gas furnace is located deep within the Army depot grounds, of course, but Mickey figured out a while back that the exhaust runs out to hillside vents just past the north fence. They flop onto the grass and inhale.
“I think I’m hallucinating something!” says Phan hopefully.
“That’s a kite,” says Nadine.
“This thing I printed out says we can expect ‘mydriasis, ataxia, and phantom plucking behaviors,'” says Mickey. “Anybody feel like a taxi?”
Nobody laughs. Nadine shakes her head and watches the sun-squiggles undulate.