Chapter 5

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Percy shot the stranger at the door then checked both sides of the street. Nothing, the odd piece of trash floating, then falling, rising up and continuing its course. When it was gone, Percy wrenched, using his gun to keep himself upright as he purged himself into the sewer grate.

"Goddam. Looks like you've had a long day."

The old man tipped his cap. He was sitting on a slab of metal outside one of the apartments.

Percy tried to calm himself. "What?"

"I said you look like hell. Name's Michael. You went into the bad place, didn't you? Saw that guy a couple times helping people in. Everyone got so desperate so quick he was able to snatch a few takers." He leaned forward and frowned. "What happened?"

Percy shook his head. "Christ, I...they were just mowing people...Casey..."

The old man hobbled over and pressed a calm hand on Percy's shoulder. "You need to sit down. Not out here, though. Only place that's safe is inside."

He had cataracts. They all did now.

"How can I trust you?" Percy said, almost crying.

"Good question, good question. Better that way, to always be looking over your shoulder. But sometimes--and I'm not saying we can ever really know--but sometimes we gotta take a chance on people."

"After all that's happened?" Percy asked, sincere.

Michael cracked a grin, wrinkles erupting all over his face. "Come on. I hear the dogs comin'."

They went inside the apartment and up a set of stairs. Percy was breathing heavily; something had scattered his lungs. At a certain floor the old man broke off and began to saunter down the hall, touching his coat-pocket every so often.

Percy touched the trigger of his rifle. The monsieurs were out there; he could hear them laughing.

A door snapped open. Percy nearly fired, realizing it was just some guy wearing a tanktop, his eyes wide, eventually noticing Michael.

"What are you doing, old man? Don't you know who he is? One of them. Get the fuck out of here, killer."

"I'm not a killer," Percy managed to say.

"Hold that old tongue of yours," Michael said, waving his neighbor away as he took out a set of card-keys, sliding one inside the door's control panel. "Just 'cause the world's ended doesn't mean I can't have guests."

"Crazy old fuck," the neighbor spat. "Monsieurs are gonna get you. They're gonna get all of us, once they figure out how to cut the locks."

A click, and the door opened. Michael motioned Percy to go in first.

"Until that day, I guess we'll just have to do our best, huh?" Michael said over his shoulder

When they were inside, Michael locked the door and cleared his throat.

"Don't mind him," he said. "Just jumpy. Lord knows we all are."

The room was bare. There wasn't anything, not even furniture.

"What--"

Michael shot Percy before he could react. For a time he stared at the body, then flipped it over. Lots of blood, but that never bothered Michael. He reached into the pockets and pulled out a clip of ammo, tossing it to the side. Outside, he could hear dogs. Dogs never did scare him--people did.

"Sorry, kid: I didn't really mean it. But you know how it is."

Pounding at the door.

"Michael, what in the hell--"

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