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"
Tectonic
plates
?
"
Shadow
hazarded
.
"
That
’
s
it
.
Tectonic
plates
.
It
’
s
like
when
they
go
riding
,
when
North
America
goes
skidding
into
South
America
,
you
don
’
t
want
to
be
in
the
middle
.
You
dig
me
?
"
"
Not
even
a
little
.
"
One
brown
eye
closed
in
a
slow
wink
.
"
Hell
,
don
’
t
say
I
didn
’
t
warn
you
,
"
said
Sam
Fetisher
,
and
he
spooned
a
trembling
lump
of
orange
Jell
-
O
into
his
mouth
.
"
I
won
’
t
.
"
Shadow
spent
the
night
half
-
awake
,
drifting
in
and
out
of
sleep
,
listening
to
his
new
cellmate
grunt
and
snore
in
the
bunk
below
him
.
Several
cells
away
a
man
whined
and
howled
and
sobbed
like
an
animal
,
and
from
time
to
time
someone
would
scream
at
him
to
shut
the
f
*
*
k
up
.
Shadow
tried
not
to
hear
.
He
let
the
empty
minutes
wash
over
him
,
lonely
and
slow
.
Two
days
to
go
.
Forty
-
eight
hours
,
starting
with
oatmeal
and
prison
coffee
,
and
a
guard
named
Wilson
who
tapped
Shadow
harder
than
he
had
to
on
the
shoulder
and
said
,
"
Shadow
?
This
way
.
"
Shadow
checked
his
conscience
.
It
was
quiet
,
which
did
not
,
he
had
observed
,
in
a
prison
,
mean
that
he
was
not
in
deep
shit
.
The
two
men
walked
more
or
less
side
by
side
,
feet
echoing
on
metal
and
concrete
.
Shadow
tasted
fear
in
the
back
of
his
throat
,
bitter
as
old
coffee
.
The
bad
thing
was
happening
.
.
.
