The Tunnel: Squirrels

"Why is it you think," Carl had his pistol out, aimed a squirrel that had taken to burying something just beyond the camp. "Why is it people think squirrels look cute and harmless while rats look evil and diseased?"
    "Squirrels aren't cute and harmless?" Devin asked.
    "Hell no! They're vicious creatures: just as diseased; just as evil."
    "Well, they are kind of cute, with the bushy tail and the barking and chasing each other around the trees."
    "That's just what I mean! Folks buy into appearances too easily."
    Devin hadn't slept the previous night, not since the strange encounter with Jerome. "That Jerome fellow," he said, "what happened?"
    Carl paused and gave Devin a sullen look, he lowered his arm and shoved the pistol back into his pants. "Well, it ain't a pretty story." He paused again, apparently considering how the tale might best be told. "Jerome was one of the original homesteaders here--he and Selby.
    "Back then anything went, as everyone was just glad to survive. But Jerome was an alcoholic and he put everyone through a fair amount of shit; fuckin' with peoples' emotions.
    "We put it to a vote: this wasn't to be a camp for abusive drunks: no alcohol or drugs allowed. That was only a few weeks ago and Jerome's departure was a bitter one, to say the least."
    "I see," said Devin. He thought about what Jerome had said to him, about the dream after image; he was surprised to remember who he was.
    "He got to you, didn't he--what he said?"
    "I suppose so."
    "Don't pay him no never mind. He was drunk, and God knows what else."