I steer towards town. “We're going back to the interstate?” asks Colletta. “Not yet,” I say. “I have an old score to settle.” “I don't like the sound of that,” she says. “He killed Apollo,” I say. At the Chuck E Cheese's I demand to see the manager. “Roscoe isn't here yet,” says the amiable … Continue reading “Yes. This has been the worst vacation ever.” →