CHAPTER SIX
SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2027 3:30pm
(03:23:58:08)
Mike Slattery always got a little nauseous when he started down the long driveway to his father’s house. He’d seen things there, beatings, blood, but those things didn’t make him ill. He had lost any sense of loathing around those acts. They had grown normal in his life. He didn’t care about the people his father employed or the way he treated them. He didn’t remember the ones who disappeared. No, the nausea told a different story, a story about him becoming that man, that person his father was. He ran the business now. He kept the order. But his father still ruled. He was the builder of the legacy Mike didn’t want.
The gate rolled open when he rounded the first bend. Somewhere ahead of him a ham-handed guard hunched over a black
