side of his wound, where the bullet had passed through. I reached out and pulled the handle on the immaculate stainless steel, double wide refrigerator that towered before us. Light from the windows reflected off of it, shining like a beacon to a sailor in a storm.
“Madre de Dios!” Alvarez exclaimed, dropping the bandages that he held in his hand, astonished at what was inside.
A fully stocked fridge. If we could want it, it was there. A wide variety of fresh meats and produce. Some very expensive, high quality cheeses and pates. Wine, grape juice (the good kind, made from real grapes), even a six-pack of Heineken.
We looked at each other and started giggling like school boys.
We each downed at least a pound of cold cuts and a beer.
Happy to have food in our stomachs for the first time since the world went crazy, we were a little giddy.
As I finished the last section of a delicious, seedless orange, I looked over at a slatted door in the corner of the kitchen, then back at Alvarez who then looked at the door and looked at me.
“A pantry!” we both said simultaneously.
We cautiously looked out over the surface of the island, toward the dining room windows, and when we were sure the coast was clear, we excitedly crawled over to the pantry door.
I reached out and pulled it quickly. The metal door rails squeaked and the door slid aside.
“That’s our food, you crazy alien sons a bitches!” a voice screamed.
I saw a large black frying pan flying through the air. It missed my face by less than an inch, thanks to Alvarez’s quick reflexes; he had grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me backward just in time to save my face from a collision with the pan.
A very dark, rotund middle-aged black man was attached to the handle of the pan, his arm following the swing more as if the pan swung him than the other way around. Alvarez levelled his gun as the short, pear-shaped man began to rear back with the frying pan again, this time with both hands firmly on the handle. I stretched forward and grabbed the man's arm at the height of its arc, he struggled and stepped forward, placed his leg between mine. We tumbled to the floor and I found myself wrestling the pan from his grip and throwing it away. The man looked up at me with a defeated expression. Wisps of white hair that had started to crop up in his goatee, matching the ones on his temples.,
“We’re not here to hurt you!” I screamed at the man after I disarmed him. “We’re not part of the group that’s been rounding up people.”
“Oh, and I’m just supposed to believe that from a guy that suits up like a commando and beats old men to the ground. In MY OWN HOUSE!” The man replied, raising his voice for emphasis at the end.
“No, no, we…didn’t mean for this to happen...we’re on the run, heading to the Coliseum to find survivors.” I replied. “I’m sorry…my name is Jace…this is Alvarez. We’re here to help.”
“Help, my ass. You wanna help, get up offa me.” The man retorted. “You wanna help, help an old man up.”
I couldn’t help but grin to myself as I helped the man up. His waddle reminded me very much of a black Danny DeVito as he got to his feet.
“How did you know that aliens were behind this?” I asked, then paused. “Sorry, sir, what’s your name?”
“Whatta ya mean, ‘How did I know?’ Ain’t it always aliens? Ain’t you ever seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers ?” The man raised an eyebrow, looking sternly at us.
Alvarez and I looked at each other and stifled a small chuckle before I turned back to the man in front of us.
“Ha, ha, ha. You think that’s funny, there’s something wrong in your head.” said the man. “You wanna introduction? My name is Earl, yeah, like the TV show, ha ha ha; I suppose you think that’s funny too.”
“I’m sorry, Earl, we didn’t mean to upset you,” I said.
Then
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