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“Screw it, fuck her anyway.”
“Come on, man. I don’t want to be that guy. If I can grab a few things she’s sentimental over, she’ll get all emotional and her legs will spread like butter.”
“Cold butter. The kind that rips apart bread.”
“Would you quit being such an edge lord and cut me some slack?”
“The east side is a hellscape. Too many living catching death, and there’s no good place to land the chopper.”
“I’m willing to chance it.”
“This better be a damn good teddy bear,” he snickers. “Do you think it’s stuffed with cocaine?”
“Britney’s not into that.”
“With where we found her—”
“Enough about Britney. Are you going to let me go, or am I going to have to break a few rules?”
“You’re taking Hunter with you. I’ll radio to have him meet you nearby.”
“With all due respect—”
“As if any of us knows courtesy.” The look on Cole’s face tells me I’ve pushed him too far.
“Fine, have him meet me at the corner of Hanover and Chapel.”
Cole nods, but his eyes grow cold.
“What’s up, boss?”
“I just don’t like it when things don’t make sense.”
“You mean like the dead rising?”
“I mean like a street full of women hanging from balconies.”
“I thought there were men too, and it was just a few.”
“In today’s time, one might as well be a hundred.”
“I hear ya.”
“There’s a storm brewing. Something big.”
“You sound like a character in a Stephen King book.”
Cole shrugs. “Maybe I am. Maybe we all are. That certainly makes more sense than what’s going on.”
“Well, they can’t get to us behind these walls.”
“Ya know, I used to be so sure of that.”
“You’re not now?”
Cole leans back in his chair, brings his legs up, and crashes them down onto the table. “During catastrophes, people tend to act predictably, and while humanity has never faced an apocalypse like this before, their actions should be somewhat foreseeable.”
“What are they doing that’s so outrageous? People have been killing people since the dawn of time.”
