Chapter 6
I got in my car and went out, in theory to pursue some lead in relation to the Mayor Gundarrson investigation. I didn’t actually have any leads, though. In reality I was simply angry, and wanted to drive around and let off steam.
It wasn’t a rational anger, if there is such a thing. When I was a street kid, sleeping in a punk squat in the ruins of a hospital, I was angry all the time. But it was easy enough to say why I was angry. My mother had died, leaving me to a succession of foster parents that ranged from incompetent to brutal to potentially predatory. I had ended up homeless, scrounging around for every bite I ate. To be angry that your life has turned out that way is perfectly rational, especially for a nineteen-year-old guy who hasn’t had a chance to see how many twist
