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324 pages, Paperback
First published March 6, 2018
They were playing a get-to-know-you game.
“Marry, bang, kill: a tree, the word free, the number three.”
She responded almost before he was finished with the last vowel.
Tommy didn't know exactly how making a life-changing decision felt. Like everyone else, Tommy had made such decisions every second he'd been awake as an adult. Like everyone else, Tommy's life was nothing more than a careless, arbitrary stream of mortal micro-choices. Regardless, Tommy would afterwards remember ripping off the club not as a choice at all but rather as a series of stunning realizations, a short, slick conveyor belt of epiphany.
If she needed someone dead, she killed them. Ever since Karen had showed her the ropes and referred her to Sergei and she'd shot that defenceless teen who'd ratted to the cops, Greta had stopped knowing or caring about struggle. There was no struggle, just different stages of a plan, spiderwebs of coincidence branching off life's neat flow chart.
He did it in the same way he did many things, thoughtlessly and fully assured, something unspoken and unspeakable pulling his head along, the rest of him only following. If at the end of the trip he'd ended up helping her take out the garbage and making best friends, or killed her and stolen her jewellery and microwave, he would have felt equally that it wasn't what he'd been planning to do.
Mike drove home barefoot but proud of himself, proud of the chances he was starting to take, the things he was starting to realize. He was giving in to the fluidity of the situation, and he was doing all he could: taking away a little bit of ground at a time.
Mousey enjoyed the familiar, cracky-paranoid buzz of thinking, of focusing wholly on just the facts that came from short, terrifying seconds, the facts that came from quick decisions that nobody really felt they'd made.