Jack kilborn SErial blakE crouch

Jack kilborn SErial blakE crouch
sitting there, a biohazard sticker on the lid.
“no kidding, there’s a kidney in there?”
“There will be, once i get it.” Donaldson winked at the
kid. “by the way, what’s your blood type?”
The kid chuckled nervously. Donaldson joined in.
a long stretch of road approaching. no cars in either
direction.
“Sounds like an interesting job,” brett said.
“it is. Perfect for a loner like me. That’s why it’s nice to
have company every so often. Gets lonely on the road.”
“What about neil?”
“neil?”
brett pointed at the photograph on the dashboard. “Your
dog. You said he rode with you sometimes.”
“oh, yeah. neil. of course. but it isn’t the same as having
a human companion. know what i mean?”
brett nodded, then glanced at the fuel gauge.
“You’re down to a quarter tank,” he said.
“really? i thought i just filled up. next place we see, i’ll
take you up on that offer to pay.”
it was a bright, sunny late afternoon, clean country air
blowing in through the inch of window Donaldson had open.
a perfect day for a drive. The road ahead was clear, no one
behind them.
type?”
“So seriously,” Donaldson asked, “What’s your blood
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