You know my birthday came and went while I was heading into the desert, running from what I'd done, running from what I didn't do, running from Scare City, running from the Potato King and his bangers. For a while there, I lost track of the days, but by the time I got this transmitter up and working again, I had turned seventeen.

I feel.. what? Lonelier than a person should ever feel? Crazy? Way past crazy, actually. Past scared too. If I ever see Scare City again, watch out. I'm five feet six, I look like a hot mess and I've got enough explosives in my teeth to leave a good-sized crater in the ground. Shit, I'm the scariest thing out here, you know? Fuckin' bring it on.