“Hello!” Johnston called up again. After another moment, a head appeared from an open window, two stories up.
“What are you yellin’ about? You wanna call every dead thing within a mile?”
“Sorry… saw your lights. You have anything to trade?”
“Like what?”
“Food? Water tablets? Alcohol, or shoes?”
“Ain’t got shoes. Been huntin’ for food.”
“Yeah. Well, we have some .22 long cartridges we could part with.”
“I suppose I have some whiskey I ain’t plannin’ on drinkin’.”
“We come up or you come down?”
“Lemme think on it.”
“Right. We’ll stay here and try not to get eaten.”
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