A voice called out, “That’s far enough.”
He was mentally kicking himself for not noticing the ladders and planks linking the roofs of the buildings on this street, but he calmly looked up without raising his shotgun. “I’m looking for shelter.”
“Unless you’ve got a magic bag full of food, there’s no shelter to be found around here.”
“I know how to make bullets.”
“What’s that, now? Say that again?”
“How low are you? I can make you more. I know where to find the ingredients. Guaranteed to fire.”
“If you can prove all that, you’ve got yourself a bed.”
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