Dark meat in the can—brown, oily, and flecked with mucus—gave off a
repellent, fishy smell, and the taste of it rose in his throat, putrid and bitter,
like something from a dead man’s stomach. George Jordan sat on the
kitchen floor and vomited, then pushed himself away from the shining
pool, which looked very much like what remained in the can.
He thought, No, this won’t do: I have wires in my head, and they make me
eat cat food. The snake likes cat food
He needed help but know there was little point in calling the Air
Force. He’d tried them, and there was no way they...