taking a last look outside. “What happened?”
"I think I need to make up some dramatic shit, or you're gonna act like a bitch about it."
“Whatever.”
“No, seriously.”
I stopped by one of the partially disassembled helicopters and positioned myself to see anything that might come through the open hangar doors. Murphy watched the doors to the shop and other storerooms at the back. I said, “I’m cool. I’m just tired and grouchy. I need to get on a regular sleep schedule.”
“I think maybe we need to make coffee a priority on our scrounge list.”
I rolled my eyes. “What happened? Why didn’t you come back? Did you run into trouble?”
“After I snuck out last night I went down to the far end of the row of hangars,” Murphy pointed, “thinking if that dude was—” Murphy cut himself off and looked around. “Where’s that dude?”
“In a storeroom over there.” I nodded toward the back of the hangar.
“Why’d you come over here?”
“Long story. Tell me what happened.”
"Like I said,” Murphy pointed again, "I was coming around way down by the other end and, well, there's nothing to tell. I was sneaking along, doing my thing. Lots of bodies down there, by the way. I was trying not to step in anything when I noticed a bunch of Whites coming in my direction. They didn't act like they saw me, being so dark and all, so I hid in a helicopter. I wasn't in the mood for running and shooting and shit so I thought I'd give them a little bit and after they passed by I'd go about my business."
“But?” I asked.
“They hung around and started scavenging the dead up there. You know those kind of Whites that’ll eat any dead guy.”
I nodded. “And?”
"Well I ended up sitting in that helicopter a long time, and I got comfortable. And like you said, neither of us have been getting enough sleep lately."
“You dozed off?”
Murphy’s expression turned sheepish. “Woke up a little while ago, just in time to see those Whites run off.”
He was probably talking about the same band I’d seen spiral by when I was looking out the window from Martin’s room a while ago.
“So what’s the deal with that dude?” Murphy asked.
“Martin. He’s up there in his hideout. It’s a storeroom above one of the machine shops just like he said. Looks like only he’s been up there. You know, one bed. Some supplies. Everything he’s told me checked out.”
“He could still be lying.”
“He’s got a gun.”
"He picked one up when you guys were coming over here?” Murphy asked, "With his hands tied?"
“I untied his hands.” It was my turn to look sheepish. “He had it hidden under his mattress.”
“He drew it on you?”
“He was acting squirrelly when he sat down on his bed. I figured he had something.”
“What’d you do?”
“I told him to pull it out. I pretty much trusted him by then, well you know, as much as I’m going to trust anybody like that, and I told him to take out his gun if he wanted to.”
“You two must have buddied right up overnight.”
“I had to smack him a time or two,” I admitted.
“A time or two?” Murphy laughed. “What’s that mean?”
“It’s a long story but he kinda got free and tried to wrestle my machete away.”
Murphy laughed some more. “And you trusted him with the gun?” His face changed. He was suspicious. “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?”
“No.” I felt embarrassed over the choice.
“You’re an idiot sometimes.”
“It worked out,” I countered.
"A lucky idiot."
Yeah, lucky me. I knew I’d taken a big risk, a stupid risk, but it was my risk to take.
“What’s the plan now?” Murphy patted a big palm on the drab green side of a Black Hawk. “Can Martin really fly one of these?”
I started walking toward the storeroom. “Seems like you’re already thinking the same thing I’m thinking.”
"To fly one of these to College
"I think I need to make up some dramatic shit, or you're gonna act like a bitch about it."
“Whatever.”
“No, seriously.”
I stopped by one of the partially disassembled helicopters and positioned myself to see anything that might come through the open hangar doors. Murphy watched the doors to the shop and other storerooms at the back. I said, “I’m cool. I’m just tired and grouchy. I need to get on a regular sleep schedule.”
“I think maybe we need to make coffee a priority on our scrounge list.”
I rolled my eyes. “What happened? Why didn’t you come back? Did you run into trouble?”
“After I snuck out last night I went down to the far end of the row of hangars,” Murphy pointed, “thinking if that dude was—” Murphy cut himself off and looked around. “Where’s that dude?”
“In a storeroom over there.” I nodded toward the back of the hangar.
“Why’d you come over here?”
“Long story. Tell me what happened.”
"Like I said,” Murphy pointed again, "I was coming around way down by the other end and, well, there's nothing to tell. I was sneaking along, doing my thing. Lots of bodies down there, by the way. I was trying not to step in anything when I noticed a bunch of Whites coming in my direction. They didn't act like they saw me, being so dark and all, so I hid in a helicopter. I wasn't in the mood for running and shooting and shit so I thought I'd give them a little bit and after they passed by I'd go about my business."
“But?” I asked.
“They hung around and started scavenging the dead up there. You know those kind of Whites that’ll eat any dead guy.”
I nodded. “And?”
"Well I ended up sitting in that helicopter a long time, and I got comfortable. And like you said, neither of us have been getting enough sleep lately."
“You dozed off?”
Murphy’s expression turned sheepish. “Woke up a little while ago, just in time to see those Whites run off.”
He was probably talking about the same band I’d seen spiral by when I was looking out the window from Martin’s room a while ago.
“So what’s the deal with that dude?” Murphy asked.
“Martin. He’s up there in his hideout. It’s a storeroom above one of the machine shops just like he said. Looks like only he’s been up there. You know, one bed. Some supplies. Everything he’s told me checked out.”
“He could still be lying.”
“He’s got a gun.”
"He picked one up when you guys were coming over here?” Murphy asked, "With his hands tied?"
“I untied his hands.” It was my turn to look sheepish. “He had it hidden under his mattress.”
“He drew it on you?”
“He was acting squirrelly when he sat down on his bed. I figured he had something.”
“What’d you do?”
“I told him to pull it out. I pretty much trusted him by then, well you know, as much as I’m going to trust anybody like that, and I told him to take out his gun if he wanted to.”
“You two must have buddied right up overnight.”
“I had to smack him a time or two,” I admitted.
“A time or two?” Murphy laughed. “What’s that mean?”
“It’s a long story but he kinda got free and tried to wrestle my machete away.”
Murphy laughed some more. “And you trusted him with the gun?” His face changed. He was suspicious. “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?”
“No.” I felt embarrassed over the choice.
“You’re an idiot sometimes.”
“It worked out,” I countered.
"A lucky idiot."
Yeah, lucky me. I knew I’d taken a big risk, a stupid risk, but it was my risk to take.
“What’s the plan now?” Murphy patted a big palm on the drab green side of a Black Hawk. “Can Martin really fly one of these?”
I started walking toward the storeroom. “Seems like you’re already thinking the same thing I’m thinking.”
"To fly one of these to College
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