“I,” he lowered his voice like they were co-conspirators, “am in an alley next to a convenience store.” There was a beer cap under his shoe, crushed flat but still scraping metallically in the quiet. He squatted to pick it up and turned it over in his fingers. Coors. He could use a beer right now, but that meant leaving his post and going into the store. Good guys, bad guys, whatever, Daniel felt halfway useful to somebody right now and he wasn’t planning to fuck it up in the first hour.

"Now ask me what I'm wearing. Kidding, I'm kidding."