"But, Jesus, Cal . . . how can something like this happen? How can I just, I don't know . . . wake up one day and not feel safe any more?"

"You got a sixth sense, little brother."

"A sixth sense?"

"Yeah. When lightning strikes, you're never there."

"'Cause I'm a coward."

"You're light on your feet, Billy. You know when it's time to move on."

"So . . . so you think lightning's going to strike?"

"You tell me."

"I don't feel safe, Cal."

"Then let's blow this popsicle stand."

"Really? You'd . . . you'd come with me?"

"Hey, fella . . . if this place is going to get demolished in some kind of napalm oil spill Hollywood-style dynamite asteroid explosion, you think I want to be here?"

"But you could go . . . uh . . ."

"Where, Billy? Where've I got to go?"

". . . mmmmm . . ."

"Same place you got to go. Nowhere."

". . . mmmmm . . ."

"So let's go there together."

"OK, Cal. Whatever you say. They'll be after us, though."

"What's new? They were after us last time."

"I've got to bring my stuff . . ."

"Pack light, Billy. Remember what Momma told you . . . pack light."

"I'll try."

"That's my boy."

STAY TUNED. SEE WHAT HAPPENS.