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Show 130 For the first week and a half after Blake, Jen, Ariel and Scott drowned in a dark cave on Y mountain, I spent most of my time staggering around my apartment like a wounded criminal, lying down in the dry bathtub, and going outside only to visit the sealed-over cave or to a attend a funeral. I hadn't informed my work or given any reason for my absence, so I was surprised when I went back for my last paycheck and found out I still had a job if I wanted it. I was working the grave shift at a low-activity 7-11, and that was where I was the night Blake died. Because of that, plus the actual shudder I felt in my spine at the thought of refilling the nacho dispenser or even pretending to clean the grill, I did not want to go back there. But I had rent to pay and was out of gin and groceries, so I re-took the job. The shift was from 12-7 AM, and nothing really happened after beer sales stopped. Officially that time was one AM, but it was almost one now, and I knew better than to look out the glass windows to the empty pavement thinking I was finished for the night. Every shift someone ran in late trying to beat the deadline. At 1:20 a guy pulled up in a Jeep Cherokee and left the vehicle running while he pushed through the front-doors like this was an emergency room. He hauled two 24-packs of Keystone Light to the front and wiped his brow as he placed them on the counter. "Sorry, I can't sell it after 1," I said. "Come on man, there are like fifty girls at my house right now," he argued. I honestly didn't know if there was a red flag in the system if I made an |