Everyone seemed to look at me, I have no idea why.
“You’re f*****g crazy,” I said. “You—you’ve totally lost it.”
“Have I?”
“It’s a f*****g antenna farm, Denton!” I glanced around us at the throngs of people. “I mean, is that what you people actually believe? Christ, did it steal the election, too? Is that what kind of bullshit you’re trying to pass off?” I glared at Denton. “We’re done here. Let’s go, Lazaro.”
“Now wait just a f*****g—”
And he lunged at me—which was followed by the sound of Gargantua’s .50 caliber swinging around, locking into position. Which was followed by it ratcheting down, down, until it was trained on Denton alone.
“Nobody move!” he shouted, splaying his hands, even as there was a riot of shifting arms. “Is that clear?”
But nobody did; move, that is, not even
