Lou nodded his head and said, “Me and Gary Lee go wayback. He used to look out for me. But over the years, he became more about GaryLee, more about the hustle. Truth be told, he was more likely to blast a holein us than to let us in here. If he gots to go so we can go, then he gots togo.”
That’s what Zeke wanted to hear. Zeke had no illusionsabout what it would take to get out of here alive and move to a moreadvantageous position, preferably somewhere outside the city, with a thick walland plenty of ammo.
“At the very least, we could use his gun, and any more hehas lying around. If he won’t cooperate, then he’ll have to go.” It all madesense to Zeke. As he looked out the window one more time, he saw the fence givejust a little more. “Let’s go find Gary Lee.”
Lou led the way through the trashed out halls and up somestairs, past tweaked out junkies and crack whores. They came to a room at theend of the north wing. A skull was painted on the door in blood.
“This is it,” Lou said, “Gary Lee’s room.”
“Let’s do this quick,” said Zeke. He reared back and withhis right leg he kicked the flimsy door open, splintering the doorjamb. Theyrushed inside to find Gary Lee completely naked and in mid-thrust on a chainedup woman. They grabbed Gary Lee and threw his naked body to the ground. Zekeheld the butcher knife to Gary Lee’s throat. “Don’t move a muscle, or yourheadless body will be flapping around here like a chicken with its head cutoff. You make a sound, and it’s your last.”
“Hey, man. Look,” Lou said, his hand pointed at thechained up woman.
Zeke turned his head to see the woman clearly for thefirst time. She wasn’t a woman; she was one of those things. Blood caked herbackside, and her eyes were pale and lifeless. Zeke thought he was going tothrow up, and he could see the same look on Lou’s face.
Zeke turned to Lou and said, “You’re sick. I ought tochop your head off right now.”
Gary Lee laughed, not fazed by the knife to his throat,“I always knew this day would come. I just didn’t know it would be at the handsof you, Satchmo. What are you doing running around with this cracker? Why areyou doing this?”
Lou looked at Gary Lee and said, “You’re not the Gary LeeI grew up with. The Gary Lee I knew would be fighting, trying to help people.Instead, you’re up here, high as hell, and… I can’t even say it.”
Gary Lee laughed some more. “Go on. I’m not ashamed. Shelets me do whatever I want to do. It takes a little while to get used to thecold, but it can be done. Go on give her a try yourself. I'd stay away from hermouth though.” Lou's laugh was a booming one, tinged with a slight hint ofmadness.
“Don’t listen to him, Lou. Find the goddamn guns andlet’s get the hell out of here.”
Lou tossed the room, coming up with a submachine gun, acouple of pistols, and a few boxes of ammunition. Lou loaded the guns and theywere ready. He took aim at Gary Lee and said, “Any last words?”
Gary Lee looked at Lou with defiance in his eyes, “You’reno son of mine.” With that, Lou pulled the trigger, sending Gary Lee’s brainssplattering across the dirty white mattress.
Zeke sprung to his feet and grabbed the submachine gunfrom Lou. He had known all along, of course. The resemblance was too much to bea coincidence. Give Lou a Jheri Curl, and he would be the spitting image ofGary Lee, only twenty years younger and without the haggard junkie face.
“You good? You ready to move?”
Lou looked at Zeke and said, “Nah, man. I’m not good. ButI can move.”
Just then, they heard what they had been fearing. With ashriek of twisted metal, the gate came down. Zeke pulled the curtain back andwatched as 30 dead people shambled across the courtyard, breaking glass bottlesand crushing cans with each footstep. There were more dead heading their way,drawn by the shriek of the gate or the gunshot. It didn't matter.
“What do we do now?” Lou asked.
Zeke squeezed a round into the naked lady's head andsaid, “We wait.”
Chapter 43: Til Death Do Us Part
Old Han fired his pistol without thinking as the youthslid through the broken window. His wife’s shrieking drove all feelings ofromance away. As more people appeared at the window, he retreated to the backof the house, dragging Fang along with him.
“Bad things are happening,” Han said, “very bad things.”
Fang stopped screaming long enough to state the obvious,“You killed that child.”
Normally, he would have told her to shut her mouth, butit was important that she realized what was going on. “He was already dead.Look.” He pointed at the figure of the youth wearing a black Bruno Marst-shirt. The youth stumbled down the hallway, blood seeping from the bullethole on his shirt.
“I don’t understand,” Fang whimpered.
“Of course you don’t. What would you do without me?” Hantook aim and the child fell to the ground, a hole in his forehead and hisbrains sliding down the living room wall. There were more behind him. Handragged Fang into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
He set the pistol on the bed as he began to drag thedresser to block off the door. Despite the fact that the dresser weighed twiceas much as he did, he managed to get it in front of the door just as thepounding began.
He turned around to wipe the sweat off of his brow whenhe saw her standing there, the gun leveled at his face.
“What you doing?” Han demanded. He took a step towardsher, and she yelled at him to stop, her finger on the trigger. “You crazy?”
“You’re the crazy one,” she yelled. “You always havebeen.”
“I’m only say once. Give me that gun.”
“Then what? Don’t you see? It’s here. The end of theworld is here.” She smiled
