"Wait up!"
She was walking ahead of him, and really, he thought, the colouring was pretty damned creepy, but when a broad flashes her everything at you, you don't quibble over the makeup.
Looking up, he realised she was already at the top, and he picked up his pace, lungs heaving like bellows as he tried to climb faster. Reaching the gantry, he looked around. There she was. Waiting for him. He licked his lips.
Close to, in the dim lighting high in the flies, the wounds on her neck looked real. And gross.
And that was his last thought.