"We been sitting waiting on this corpse long enough," I said, and got up.
We got food from the commissary here. Fine, I don't say I'm anything but grateful for that. And we rested in the bunks, got recuperated. But enough's enough. The computer tells us it wants to talk to the man Gene some more. Fine, I say.
Turkey stood up. "Not easy, the computer says, this talking to a man's near dead. Slow work."
Looking around, I tried to take control, assume leadership again. Jutted out my chin. "Time to get back."
But their eyes are funny. Somehow I'd lost my real power over them. It's not anymore like I'm the one who led them when the bombs started.
Which means, I suppose, that this thing isn't going to be a new beginning for me. It's going to be the same life. People aren't going to pay me any more real respect than they ever did.