Rufus couldn’t say for certain how long the moaning had been going on next to him, the moaning from the boy sitting next to him on the bus, the boy sitting next to him on the bus with a gunshot to the gut, but it seemed at the very least negligent for the bus driver to have let him on the bus in the first place. The moaning was intolerable. “They done plugged me in the gut,” the boy was saying, “and I didn’t even see it coming. That broad, she double-crossed me! She did me in!” He was doubled over, hand clutching stomach, and every now and then removed the hand from holding in his intestines to stare at the blood and what damage the broad had done him. The boy’s name was Conrad and Rufus knew him from English class, though he’d never actually talked to him.