“Come on,” Jason says to Samantha. He picks up the bomb and lugs it out of the Borders Café.
They move through the store, towards the glass doors that lead to the dark outside. Jason’s in the lead, and he’s hauling a fifty-pound explosive device against his right hip, he’s all canted over to the left to compensate for the load, and he’s cursing under his breath, and no one in the store except Caccian and Samantha acts like they even see him.
“I don’t know,” Samantha manages, as they push out into the windswept parking lot. “I don’t feel like partying tonight.”
“Fuck the party,” Jason says. He sets the bomb down so he can sort through his keys. He finds the one that fits into the van’s battered door, slides the door back. “Get in,” he says to Caccian.
Caccian disappears into the van. Jason loads the bomb in after him.
“Well, if it’s fuck the party, then where are we going?”
“Starbucks,” Jason says.