Origins of the Outbreak Read Online Free Page B

when she basically forced the nicer, more expensive apartment on him when they were looking for a place.  The rent was due and he didn’t have enough to cover the full thing without Trisha’s half.  She never replied to his message asking if she had the rent money and the god dammed landlord banged on his door for thirty minutes until he finally dragged himself out of bed to answer it.  Dick.
    He’d bought himself a few days with some sweet talking and promises, but man, he needed some money quick.  He briefly considered calling his dealer and asking if he had any work, but he just wanted to consume the shit, not be a part of the machine that brought the bud to the end user.  There was that, and he was scared to death of going to jail.  He knew that the little bit that he purchased for his personal use wasn’t enough to get him locked up in the pen if he got caught, but get caught with the amount that a dealer carried around, in the state of Texas?  Man, he’d be headed to Huntsville and would become somebody’s bitch in a minute.  Hell, for kicks, they’d probably tattoo tits on his back so it would look like they were fucking a chick while they were raping him.
    Trent wasn’t some pussy that was afraid to live life, but there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to Huntsville.  Cross drug dealer off the list.  While he thought about what he could do, he went down to the blood clinic and sold some plasma.  He only got about fifty bucks a pop for donation, but that was fifty dollars closer to this month’s goal than he was before he walked into the place.
    His next trick was to go home and change into a collared shirt and remove his earrings.  The last time he’d gone to the sperm bank to sell his personal product the nurse kicked him out because he didn’t look the part of a “wholesome” donor.  The change of clothes worked this morning though, he was a pretty goo d lookin’ guy, and after watching a few scenes from the clinic’s porn selection – his tastes leaned towards two guys and one girl, or MMF, which the clinic had plenty of – he’d filled his quota and had two mor e Benjamin s in his pocket to apply towards the rent.
    Then it was time for him to come to work at the shop.  He’d been pretty busy all day, but ended up losing about an hour’s worth of work because his inattentive mind slipped and he screwed up this college girl’s butterfly.  She’d thrown a fit and he had to reimburse her payment and finish the tattoo for free.  Talk about adding another stone to a drowning man’s pocket.
    He took a long drag from his cigarette and held the smoke in for a couple of seconds before exhaling it through his nose.  The damned environmentalist fucks had passed a law last month that prohibited anyone from smoking inside any business within the city limits, regardless of the type of establishment.  The change in the city code forced him to take a ten-minute break every hour when he needed a cigarette, and in his line of work, time was literally money.  So, not only was he losing money by not working, he was spending money as well because the price of cigarettes had increased so dramatically in the last twelve months.
    Fuck it all , man , he thought t o himsel f as he took another drag through the filter.  He had a kid on the table inside that was in the middle of a two-hour tribal tat on his shoulder, but Trent’s body had forced him to stop working and come outside to feed the addiction.  I gott a quit smoking , he told himself for the hundredth time.  The problem was that the damned smoking cessation patches cost so much money.  “Fuck th e gov’ment,” he muttered aloud and flicked his butt out into the night.
    A glass bottle pinged against the dumpster in the recesses of the alley.  Trent whirled around and peered into the darkness.  He’d heard the sound before.  Most of the time it meant that some jackass college kid was stumbling drunk and got lost in the