Everyone else left, disappointed to find that the ramshackle company store was out of food. There was no obvious reason Rock should have held out hope, but he did. He was very hungry, and there was something about the warm expression of the pretty, young African-American clerk that made him nearly expect her to have something for him.
As he stood under the thatched roof, between the room's walls of warped, charcoal boards, she turned toward him after the last of the rest were gone. "Here, I have these," she said. There was a bag of Cheetos in her hand. "And this cheeseburger."
He couldn't believe his fortune. The burger was wrapped in soft aluminum-coated paper, and when she handed it to him, Rock could feel its warmth through the thin casing. He imagined beef and melted cheese and a fresh, moist bun. God, he was hungry.
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