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Frederick

Frederick did not open Payne's gas station that morning. He had spent most of the night sick to his stomach with the growing certainty that he would not be able to escape. The army of forces aligned against him was enormous, and might be anyone—Cole, a policeman, the priest, any random motorist who pulled to the pumps; everyone who crossed his path might be a tentacle employed by the beast that was trying to find him. Frederick imagined a dozen scenarios, all of them ending with his own terrible death, until finally he locked his trailer, brought the shotgun out to his truck, and drove back to Los Angeles to see if the police were still guarding Cole's house.