Zack yawned and turned his head to check the other half of the bed when he finally awoke the next morning. Cody was already up and out of the room and Zack frowned. He checked his watch and saw that it was almost one o'clock. Afternoon, told himself. He quickly did the math and realized he'd slept for almost fourteen straight hours. "Didn't think I was that tired," he said as he rolled from his belly to his side, momentarily wincing as something hard dug into his hip. He was puzzled for a split second until he remembered what he was packing. "Nine millimeters of hot love...wait, no!" He shook his head and threw the covers back and got up.

Zack removed the gun and rechecked its safety before returning it to his waistband. Slipping his shoes on, he opened the door and walked across the hall to the bathroom to wash the sleep from his face. Feeling alive and fully rested for the first time in weeks, he left the back of the house and walked the hallway on a mission to find his brother.

He'd checked the living room and kitchen before he heard voices from outside. Zack went to the open window and saw the three of them on the patio sitting around a table and shaded by a large umbrella. Zack leaned closer and listened in on their conversation, trying not to notice how relaxed Cody was with the older man and his wife. He was sitting shirtless, something he'd never do with a relative stranger before now, drinking from a glass bottle, something he never did, and that better be root beer in that bottle or I'm going to give him no end of hell after his alcohol sermon the other day, and even had one leg crossed at the knee like Tom did. Zack scowled.

"We weren't even in China during the Vietnam War, Mr. Morgan," Zack heard from the window.

"We were never officially in China during the war, Cody. Trust me, I was there. Quite a few other places we weren't officially in and I was in most of them, too."

"That's cool, Mr. Morgan, none of the books I've read on it ever mentioned that before."

"'Course not, Cody. They'll never tell you everything, the government, that is. I bet there's enough secrets we'll never hear about hidden away somewhere to fill a stack of books a mile high."

"Yeah, like what really caused the zombies," Cody said as he took a drink.

"Right on target. You can guarantee that if it was some sort of governmental fuck up-"

"Ahem," Martha cleared her throat.

"Sorry, screw up, then the handful of people who know will take that little bit of information to the grave. Or they will if they haven't been bitten yet."

"But don't secrets like that fall under the Freedom of Information Act?" Cody asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Only if people know they're there to request, Cody."

"That makes sense. Oh hey, Zack. About time you woke up," he turned and said when Zack walked out onto the deck. "I was just about to come wake you up so we could eat.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. You should have woke me up when you got up, Cody," he said as he sat down beside his brother.

"I thought about it but you looked so tired last night I didn't have the heart," Cody told him and Zack was conflicted. Part of him wanted to smack his brother for splitting them up even if it was unintentional and the other part wanted to grab Cody and hug him and tell him to never lose his softer side.

"Thanks," he finally said and rubbed his brother's hair.

"Well, now that you're up, I figure we can go ahead and light the grill and make lunch. Ever had a Spamburger, boys?"

"No," Cody answered before Zack could even think about replying.

"I haven't either. I figure it can't taste any worse than it normally does so why not?" Tom pushed his chair back and walked to the grill, Cody joining him before he was halfway there. Zack watched as Tom showed Cody how to turn on the gas and hit the ignition. He grinned when Cody jumped back at the sudden flames but quickly wiped the smile from his face.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Martha said to him while he was lost in his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"How quickly your brother has latched on to Tom." Zack shifted around in his chair to face her. "You don't trust us either, do you? I can't say I blame you if you don't."

"Honestly, Mrs. Morgan, I don't. I don't really like any of this."

"You're definitely the older brother, Zack, even if you are twins."

"He's all I have left. I have to keep him safe no matter what."

"I know, son. You've done a good job up to now." She got up and patted his shoulder. "I should probably go get the meat ready. Would you like me to bring you a drink back out when I come?"

"Uh, no ma'am, I'm okay for now." Martha went inside and Zack was left pondering her choice of words. Up to now? Was there meaning hidden in there or was it just her way of saying until now? He was still mulling it over when she returned with a plate of patties and a plastic bottle.

"I brought you a soda anyway," she said with a smile as she strolled past and headed out to the grill.

"Thank you," Zack told her. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he made his decision. Right or wrong, rain or shine, they were leaving this afternoon. He still hoped he was wrong but whatever it was that had been slow dancing just beyond his mental grasp had picked up its step and was jitterbugging now. "As that one guy from Star Wars would say," he whispered softly, "I've got a bad feeling about this." He unscrewed the lid and took a sip once it finished foaming.

Lunch was served and it wasn't as terrible as either boy expected. The Spam could have used some cheese and the bread was more than a little dry, but it was definitely edible. Zack wiped his face with a napkin and steeled himself for what he was about to say. He stole a glance at Cody and saw him engrossed in another of the man's old war stories. If times were normal he'd make a really great stand-in grandfather, he thought.

Zack finished his drink and waited for Tom to end his story, something about pushing a helicopter of the deck of an aircraft carrier in the Someplace Zack Had Never Heard Of Sea. He let Cody make a few astonished comments before dropping his bomb.

"Mr. and Mrs. Morgan, Cody and I appreciate you taking us in and feeding us, but I think it's time for us to get moving again. We've got a long way to go still." Zack waited for his brother's surprise and possible outrage and received it in less than half a second.

"What? Already? We just got here, Zack."

"I know, Cody, but we need to get back on the road."

"That's crap, Zack. We've been on the run for two weeks and now that we've finally found a safe place you want to leave almost as soon as we got here?"

Zack started to respond but Tom cut him off. "Your brother has a point, Cody. Here me out now," he said when Cody began to protest and the surprised Zack let him continue. "I wish you boys weren't leaving so soon since I was just getting used to having kids around the house again, but I can see where Zack is coming from. You're trying to get somewhere, don't know where since you didn't tell me and I didn't think it was any of my business to ask, but you figure that the longer you stay here, the harder it'll be to leave. That sound about right, Zack?"

"That's...yeah, that's about right," Zack lied, deciding that no, you two, and you especially, Tom, have the creeper smell all over you and I want to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible wouldn't be very diplomatic.

"Thought so," Tom said. Cody looked like he'd just seen his puppy get run down in the street. "It'll be okay, Cody. You two will be fine, we'll be fine, and once all this is over you can come back by and we'll have a real cookout. T-bones sound good to you?"

Cody forced himself to smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good." Tom reached out and patted him on the arm. "Now I think I remember saying that we'd give you two some supplies before you headed back out so you don't leave almost empty-handed like my neighbors did when they set out for Atlanta. This is a little sooner than I expected so we don't have anything ready yet, but I figure that with a little help from you boys we can have it all together in an hour." He looked to Zack to see if that met his approval.

"We'll be happy to help, Mr. Morgan," Zack said, a little surprised that it was going so smoothly. No insanity, no screaming brother, just normal. Maybe he was wrong after all.

"It's settled then. Now," Tom said as he stood up, "Most of our supplies are still in boxes in the basement and I'd have to say that Zack looks to be a little stronger than you, Cody." Cody ruefully nodded his agreement to that fact. "So, Zack, if you would, I'd like to ask you to help Martha sort through the boxes and bring what you'd like to take back upstairs. Cody, you can help me on the weapons side of things. Sound like a plan?"

Both twins said it sounded good to them and they all left the table and headed inside, Zack and Martha turning to the right and taking the stairs to the basement and Cody and Tom to the left and back toward the bedrooms.

"How much do you weigh, Cody?" Tom asked when they reached the master bedroom.

"I used to weigh about one-thirty or so before the zombies showed up. We haven't eaten all that well since and I've lost weight. Probably about one-fifteen now. Why?"

"I'm just trying to decide if you could handle one of the shotguns I have locked up or not."

"Oh. We could always find out in the back yard. I don't think anyone will call the police on us."

"No," Tom said wryly, "they sure won't. And it wouldn't be a bad idea to give you boys a few lessons before you go, either."

"Just don't tell Zack they're lessons. Tell him you want to see how well he shoots," Cody said as Tom opened up one of the room's closets and revealed a huge metal cabinet that stretched almost from floor to ceiling.

"Gotcha, Cody." Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring. He rifled through them before finding the one he wanted and slid it into the lock and turned it. The lock popped open and he withdrew the keys and let them fall between his fingers. "Shit," Tom exclaimed and began to slowly bend over.

"I'll get them, Mr. Morgan," Cody said and reached down to grab the key ring.

"Thanks, son," he said as Cody stood back up and put them in his hand.

"No problem," Cody told him and never saw the hand that hit him. He stayed upright for a few seconds before his eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled. Cody hit the ground like a ton of bricks.

"Sorry about that, kid. I was starting to like you. Eager to please, smart as a tack, and dumb as a bag of hammers all at the same time." Tom spent the next few minutes duct taping Cody's limp form to a chair before locking the cabinet up and sliding the keys back into his pocket. He left Cody trussed up in the bedroom and went to the kitchen to grab a beer and wait for the right opportunity to take Zack down.

Tom had just finished his beer when Zack appeared at the top of the stairs with a very large box in his hands and Martha right behind. Zack huffed and set the box on the counter and let out a grunt as the weight was gone. "I doubt we'll be able to take all of that with us but Mrs. Morgan said you two would use whatever we didn't take," Zack told him.

"She told you right. Neither of us get up and down the steps as well as we used to," Tom lied.

"Where's Cody?"

"He's in the spare bedroom packing, I think. He said something about getting everything ready before we go in the back yard and see how well you boys can shoot a shotgun. He also said to make sure I didn't call them lessons."

"Yeah, that sounds like Cody," Zack said. "I should probably go help him. If I don't, he'll take an hour to refold all his socks and then another hour to put them in order by color or something like that." Zack wiped the dust on his hands on the sides of his shorts and started down the hallway. Tom slipped a knife from the block by the sink into his back pocket and silently followed him.

"Cody? Where are you?" Zack called out as he entered the room and looked around. None of their things had been touched as far as he could tell. "Cody?" He called out a little louder.

In the next room, Cody came around just as Zack was calling out his name. The side of his face felt like someone had lit a box of fireworks off on it. Everything was fuzzy and it took him a few seconds to figure out why he couldn't move. He tried to open his mouth to call out and discovered his mouth was taped shut. Cody took a deep breath in through his nose and screamed as loud as he could into the tape. The sound was muted but he hoped it would carry far enough to at least warn Zack. He saw Tom in the hallway and screamed again.

"Cody?" Zack said as every hair on his body stood on end. He turned around to follow the sound and had almost reached the door when some ancient and instinctual part of his brain yelled at him to duck. He did, and the blow that would have hit him square on the jaw clipped him on the top of the head, staggering him instead of knocking him out. Zack shook his head to try to clear the cobwebs and saw Tom advancing on him as he caught another glancing blow to his ribs.

"I fucking knew it," Zack muttered, his hands balling into fists and rage taking over his brain. "Where's my brother? Where's Cody?"

"He's a bit tied up at the moment," Tom told him, laughing at his own joke as he pulled the knife from his pocket.

"Let him go. Now," Cody heard Zack snarl as he tried to get to his feet. Tom might have tied his hands behind the back of the chair but didn't bother with his feet, Cody noticed as he balanced on his toes and tried to not fall forward in his awkward position. He could see Tom's back in front of him and the glint of a blade at the man's side. He let out a muffled battle cry and charged the man from behind.

"Cody! No!" Zack yelped as he saw his brother smash into the man's knees. In slow motion, Zack watched Tom flick his wrist and slice at his brother and knew by the pained cry that Cody had been struck somewhere. Cody fell on his side with a grunt and Tom stumbled forward and tackled the surprised Zack, the knife flying out of his hand as they hit the floor.

"If you'd just waited a few more hours none of this would have happened, kid. You'd both still be alive. For a while, at least," Tom said as his hands found their way around Zack's neck. "Now I'm only going to get half of what I would for the both of you since you'll both be very, very damaged goods."

"Let go of me!" Zack huffed as breathing became more difficult as Tom began to squeeze.

"No sir."

"Last chance," Zack said as he snaked a hand between their bodies and started working the gun out of his shorts. He quickly found out that it was a lot harder than he thought it would be and hoped he'd have enough time before he passed out. The first spot had formed in his vision when he got it out. His thumb instinctively flipped the safety off and he jammed it into the man's stomach. Zack felt an immediate loosening of the hands around his throat.

"Never lost that gun after all, did you?"

"No sir."

"You're going to kill me now, aren't you, boy?"

"Planning on it, yeah," Zack smiled up at the man, a demonic glint filling his eyes.

"If you do, you'll go to hell. You know that right? Straight to hell."

"If there is a hell, I'll see you there," Zack told him just before Tom started squeezing again. Zack pulled the trigger and screamed. Again. And again. And again. And again until the man's hands went slack and the gun dry fired in his hand and his voice was nearly gone. Zack screamed one last time and rolled the man off him and found himself completely drenched in blood. He yelped instead of yelled and scrambled backwards and into the bed's footboard as he came crashing down from his massive adrenaline rush.

"Mmmmph!" Cody yelled from beside him and Zack was at his brother's side in a fraction of a second. He ripped the duct tape from Cody's mouth and went to work tearing the tape off his hands.

"Are you okay? Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Please tell me you're okay!" Zack wailed as he saw the blood leaking from his brother's leg. He wiped a tear away from his cheek and left a red streak.

"I'm okay, I think," Cody said as he pulled up the bottom of his shorts to the middle of his thigh.

"That's a big cut," Zack cried as he looked at it.

"It hurts like crazy but I don't think it's that deep. Get a shirt from my bag, Zack. You need to wrap it around my leg to stop the bleeding," Cody hissed. He tried to stifle a groan but failed as he worked his shorts down his legs and off and out of the way.

"Okay, right." Zack flew to their packs and grabbed the first shirt he could find and wrapped it around his brother's leg as best he could. He tied it off and sat back.

"That'll do for now but it's going to need stitches," Cody told him as he watched a few spots of blood welling up through the layers of cotton.

"How long is now?" Zack's face went immediately from concern to murder.

"A while."

"Good." Zack retrieved the gun and dropped the empty clip from it. He rummaged in his bag for a second before finding their spare and slammed it home.

"What are you doing?" Cody said as he struggled to his feet. He gasped as he put weight on his injured leg and immediately lifted it from the ground.

"Taking care of some unfinished business." Zack flicked his blood-wet hair from his head and stalked out of the room, pausing just long enough to give the fresh corpse a contemptible stare. Cody hobbled after him as quickly as he could.

"What do you—Zack, no!" Zack was already in the kitchen by then and had Martha pinned against the counter by the time Cody made it down the hallway.

"You knew. You fucking knew the whole time," he said as he put the gun against her forehead. "You fucking knew and didn't do a thing to stop him. You should have ran when you had the chance."

"Zack! You can't!"

Zack stepped back, still keeping the gun trained on Martha, as he looked at his brother. "The hell I can't! Cody, she knew exactly what he was doing and went along with it!" he rasped.

"Zack, don't!"

Zack turned back to Martha, dropping the gun for a second before putting it back in her face. "How many times?" he said in his ravaged voice.

"Excuse me?" Martha asked, breaking her silence.

"How. Many. Times?" the gun wavered in Zack's hand before coming to rest against the soft flesh below her chin.

"You weren't the first," she said.

"Wouldn't be the last, either, would we?"

"Probably not. Not until Tom had everything he needed."

"What were we worth, Martha? What were we going to be traded for? That's what really happened to your neighbors, isn't it? They never made it to Atlanta, did they?"

"Put the gun down, Zack, please!" Cody squeaked as he tried to get closer.

"Cody, do me a huge favor and shut the fuck up!" Zack yelled, his voice breaking with nearly every other word.

Cody did. Never in his life had he seen his brother like this. He'd seen Zack pissed off, mad, mildly angry, angry, and everything in between. But this was different. Zack was in a blood fury. Cody could almost feel the rage boiling off him. Zack was inches away from losing it and Cody had no idea how to help him.

"You haven't answered me yet, Martha," Zack said. "What were we going to be worth? What are twin boys worth on today's fucked up market?"

"A..a generator and some gas, I think," she said softly. "Maybe something else, too. I'm not sure."

"Did you hear that, Cody? That's all we're worth. A generator and some fucking gas." Zack leaned in close to Martha's face. "You do realize that you can go to just about any fucking store around here and just pick up a goddamn generator, right?" he shrieked and spittle flew. "And even I know how to siphon gas from a tank so I'm damn well sure Tom knew. Right?"

"The truck hasn't worked in a while."

"The truck...oh. Oh really? There's only a bazillion cars and trucks around here, Martha." Zack stepped to the side and threw everything on the counter to the floor with one swipe of his arm. "Fuuuuuuck!" he started stalking around the kitchen, kicking and stomping on anything he could see. The coffee pot shattered under his foot and a plastic bottle of paprika exploded. Zack shot the useless microwave.

"Zack, come on now," Cody said in as soothing a voice as he could manage, "calm down. Please. For me."

"I don't think you realize what's going on here, Cody. She, along with her former husband, tried to sell us to people just as bad, if not worse, than they are. I'm pretty sure I should put a bullet between her eyes." Zack had been leaning against the refrigerator but crossed the room and had the gun against her face again in less than a second. His eyes were getting misty and his voice began to waver as he spoke again. "I think this is the part where you tell me why I shouldn't do it, Martha. And it better be a damn good reason because I really, really want to."

"Zack, listen to yourself," Cody begged. "If you do it, you won't be any better than they were."

"So?"

"Can you live the rest of your life knowing that you took an unarmed woman's life?"

Zack didn't answer immediately. Instead, he smiled at Martha for a few seconds before saying, "Absolutely." He pulled the hammer back with his thumb and grinned again.

"Well I can't," Cody croaked. Zack's grin died on his face and the gun fell away.

"Don't you see what she did, Cody? Don't you understand?" Zack turned to his brother and Cody could see the tears spilling down his cheeks as the red cloud of rage broke.

"I do."

"Then why?"

"Because." Cody led Zack over to two of the kitchen chairs and gently pushed him into one of them and sat in the other. Zack's tears had become a torrent and Cody took the gun from his brother's hand. Zack leaned in and hugged Cody and started sobbing. Cody switched the gun from one hand to the other and pointed it at the floor by his side. "Martha, how long until the traders show up?"

"A few hours. Around five."

"With Tom dead and us long gone by then, this won't be a very safe place for you, will it?"

"No, it won't," she said, her voice regaining a little of its color now that there wasn't a gun in her face.

"Then you should go. Now."

"Where?"

"I don't care," Cody told her, his voice assuming a bit of Zack's earlier steel. "I've stopped him from killing you once but I don't know if I can do it again. I might decide I made a mistake if I see you much longer." Cody gestured to the door with the barrel of the gun. "Go."

Martha stood by the counter for a five-count before she abruptly turned and walked down the three steps into the garage. Cody listened as the bolts were thrown and the door was raised and then lowered again. He continued to hold Zack until he calmed down and got himself back under control. The minutes passed like hours but his breathing slowly returned to normal.

"You better now?" he asked when Zack released his death grip and sat back.

"Yeah, I'm good." He was quiet for a full minute before he spoke again. "I killed a man, Cody. I almost killed an old lady, too."

"He was a bad man, Zack. Really bad."

"Yeah, but what about her?"

"I think she was just along for the ride. I doubt she had much say in how things worked around here."

"Is that why you didn't want me to kill her?"

"Partially. A small part. I was really worried about what it would do to you if you did shoot her. You were walking a tight rope over a chasm of insanity. You didn't sound like yourself at all while you were threatening her."

"I don't remember much after putting the second clip in the gun, Cody. I know I did it, but I don't remember hardly any of it."

"That's probably for the best, Zack."

"That bad, huh?"

"I honestly didn't know who you were, Zack."

"Yeah, that bad."

"It's okay. You're back to normal now, right?"

"I hope so."

"Good. Now we need to get ready and get out of here before those traders show up."

Zack stopped staring at his feet and picked his head up. "How long do we have?"

"An hour and change. You were out of it for a good while."

"Great."

"It's over. Let's get cleaned up and we'll see what's next." Zack rose and helped Cody to his feet. They were both covered in blood; Zack in a mixture of Tom's and Cody's and Cody mostly in his own, and they made quite a sight.

A few minutes later found them both standing on the patio in the back yard with a dozen gallon-sized jugs of water and a bar of soap. Zack peeled his sticky clothes off and tossed them in a pile. The blood had seeped through everything and covered him from the top of his head to his ankles. Cody poured half of one of the jugs over Zack's head and watched as the concrete turned red. Zack scrubbed and the lather turned pink before Cody could rinse it off. The process was repeated five times before Zack pronounced himself clean enough for the time being.

He helped Cody out of his clothes and unwrapped his temporary bandage. He got a good look at the cut for the first time and he whistled. "Damn, Cody. Another inch or so and I'd have a sister." Zack wasn't exaggerating by much. The cut extended from the inside of Cody's thigh and raced across his quadriceps before tapering off five inches later on the outside of his leg.

"I wish I could say you're kidding but I can't." Upon closer examination, Cody saw that his initial appraisal was correct. The cut was long, longer than he thought, but not very deep. The bleeding had mostly stopped but Cody knew that it would open again at the slightest provocation. He washed it gingerly and tried to bite back the winces.

"Do you still think it needs stitches, Cody?"

"Yes," he said as Zack dumped a jug of water over his head.

"How are you going to manage that? Won't it hurt?"

"Oh yeah, it'll hurt a bunch. But I won't be the one doing it."

"Who then?" Zack asked, his mind not letting him consider the obvious.

"You."

"Huh? Are you crazy? I can't do that. I failed Home Ec, remember?"

"You can do it, Zack. I trust you." Zack looked into his brother's eyes and saw that he wasn't kidding.

"You're sure?"

"Positive. You can do it, Zack."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I can do it."

Cody grinned at his brother. "You have a little time to get used to the idea, Zack. We aren't doing it here since it will probably take a while and we need to make ourselves scarce. We'll go inside, pack up what we can, and then get out of Dodge. You get to sew me up later."

"Oh, that's good news," Zack said sarcastically. "Let's go." He threw Cody a towel and they went inside. Cody wrapped his leg up in another make-shift bandage and carefully pulled a new pair of shorts up.

"Good thing I grabbed so many clothes," he said to himself while he slid his shirt on, "since we're going through them like we do water." He tied his shoes and joined Zack in the kitchen.

"How much of this should we take, Cody?" his brother asked as he rooted through the box of food.

"Not too much, I'd say. We're going to be weighed down enough with the guns when we leave here." Zack's eyes opened wide.

"Shit! I'd forgotten about them!" The box of assorted foodstuffs was instantly irrelevant and forgotten as Zack all but ran to the bedroom. Cody heard him yell "it's locked," before he could even start down the hall.

"He had the keys and opened it before he knocked me out. Look around," Cody called back as he shuffled after Zack.

"I don't see any keys, Cody. You're sure he had them?"

"I picked them up so yes, I'm sure. Maybe he put them back in his pocket after he hit me."

"Oh come on. I think it's your turn to check a dead body this time."

Cody didn't argue with him. If there were actually turns to be taken, it was technicallyhis but he would have done it even if it wasn't. He didn't want Zack coming into contact with the man's corpse again in case it might trigger another outbreak of raw fury. "I'll get them," he said as calmly as he could. He looked at the body for a few seconds and was surprised to find out that it didn't disturb him as much as he figured it should. Was he already becoming accustomed to this sort of thing? Zack seemed to have already moved past the previous hour so maybe he was as well.

"Good grief," Cody whispered after he managed to roll the body over. Everything from the waist up was simply meat with holes in it. Hardly any shape, barely any form, just raw, shredded flesh. He patted the pockets of the man's jeans and found the lump he was looking for. Fighting down his squeamish stomach, Cody pulled the ring out and quickly stood back up. After a detour to the bathroom to wash both the keys and himself clean, he delivered the keys to his brother.

Zack stood in amazement before the open gun locker, his jaw nearly dragging on the carpet. "Holy crap that's a bunch of guns. I won't even lie, Cody, I have the weirdest boner right now," he laughed as he pulled a shotgun from its spot. "This one's a Benelli. They are kick-ass. That rifle there is a..." Zack began rattling off names and sizes and other things and Cody was quickly lost in firearms gibberish as Zack piled the guns on the bed.

"How do you know so much about guns, Zack? It's not like you've ever held one before this week."

"My Google-fu is strong, Cody. You should see my search history sometime."

"No, I don't think I want to do that," Cody said with a smirk.

"That's probably a good call," Zack agreed.

"How many of them are we going to take? 'All of them' is the wrong answer, by the way."

"A shotgun for each of us for sure. I wouldn't mind having a spare, either. That rifle for sure, too. We can hunt with it and get some real meat. A couple of pistols," Zack continued on, slowly whittling down their take pile to a manageable number.

That's better, right? Something actually happened this time around. This was the second scene I came up with when I started planning this story out down in the Caribbean over New Year's (Shotgun Momma Carey's first scene was the first). This chapter was mostly written to Nine Inch Nail's The Downward Spiral album with an occasional break for some Sick Puppies. I think that's it for now. I need to go shoot some mouthy kids in the face on COD before I go to bed. Thanks for reading.