He was out in the yard, sitting in a lawn chair, cooler full of beer next to him, laughing, whooping it up; shooting zombies as they came up the road.
She called out the front door, in exasperation, “You want to help us pack maybe?”
“Pack? What the hell you wanna pack for? Shit, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“What happens if you run out of bullets, Raymond?”
“Well then, I got the shotgun. After that I got the shovel. Woman, I’ve got this. I ain’t leavin’.”
“One of them bites you, Raymond, I swear I will never fuck you again!”
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