76: Freedom Costs Five Cents a Can
A chunk of the current fiction project.
The Barrens might be uninhabited, but people live near enough to hear when some damn fool gets their hands on dynamite and goes out for informal fireworks. The staties always ignored the first two calls, but when a third person called they’d dispatch someone to take a look. Not that they’d catch anyone. The officer might notice a blown-up boulder or two, with or without accompanying crushed beer cans. The deposit law’s nothing but government overreach after all. Freedom costs five cents a can.
This time, they got eleven calls from three different sides…
The skinny
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