Free A Little More Dead by Sean Thomas Fisher Page B

worth of amber-colored liquid inside. “Three days.”
    “Are you alone?”
    She set the glass down and nodded. “I
figured someone would’ve shown up by now. My sister and her husband own the
place.”
    Paul surveyed the bar, his fingers
tingling with blood loss. It was the typical hole-in-the-wall strip-bar, hidden
out in the middle of nowhere. “So what’s your plan?”
    “Plan?” Wendy laughed
and traded a .38 snub nose revolver for the bottle of whiskey on the bar.
“You’re looking at it,” she replied, pouring another finger.
    “Please tell me you have tequila.”
    Wendy looked up and stared at Dan for an
awkward moment before grabbing a bottle of Cuervo from a shelf above an old fashioned cash register. She slid the bottle down the
bar and then a shot glass. “Sorry, we’re all out of limes, sweet pea.”
    Dan gestured to the shotgun he was
holding above his head. “You mind?”
    Wendy studied the wisps of blond hair
curling out from Dan’s ski cap. “Set it on the table.”
    Dan set the Browning on the marked up
green felt and went to the bar.
    Wendy took another drink, watching him
out the corner of her eye, her right hand a few inches from the gun on the bar.
“Don’t tell me your plan was to come here because I can tell you from personal
experience it’s not a very good one.”
    Paul didn’t wait for permission and laid
his shotgun on the table. “We’re heading south to get out of this cold.”
    Her eyebrows went up. “To
where?”
    “The Gulf of
Mexico.”
    The ghost of a drunken grin played on
her red lips. “And do what? Play volleyball on the beach and live happily ever
after?”
    Dan filled the shot glass. “Pretty much,”
he said, knocking the glass back and slamming it on the bar. “We’ll find a
beach house and put our backs to the ocean,” he continued, unable to tear his
eyes from Wendy.
    She lit up a cigarette. “Sounds like
somebody’s been watching Couples Retreat ,”
she said, blowing smoke out.
    “It’s more of a plan than you’ve got,”
he responded, glancing to his wing-man for help.
    Paul shrugged at him. She was right. It
wasn’t much of a plan, but it beat staying here and he could care less about
convincing her of that.
    Dan poured another shot and tipped it
back, grimacing with the tequila’s slow burn. Silence ensued, the kind when a
date isn’t going so hot. He set the shot glass down and exhaled a warm breath.
“Mind if I use the bathroom?”
    “Toilets don’t work but knock yourself out,” she said, jerking her chin to a door across
the room. “Other side of the pool table.”
    Paul took Sophia’s hand and led her to
the bar. “So did you work here with your sister or something?”
    “Used to. Have you come
across anyone else?” Wendy asked, changing the subject. “Any
other survivors?”
    Sophia traded a shamefaced look with her
husband and holstered her gun. “Two young boys and their mom,” she said, taking
a seat and setting the flashlight on the bar.
    Paul sat down next to her and took off his
itchy ski cap, running his fingers through his short hair. “We lost them taking
a car at a gas station this morning.”
    Wendy stopped the glass in front of her
lips. “That’s horrible.”
    “It was.”
    They studied each other through the glow
of the flashlights, shadows pushing in from the corners of the room.
    “You look hungry,” Wendy concluded.
    Paul sighed. “We’ve been running on
candy bars all day.”
    Wendy laughed. “We’ve got those too,”
she said, disappearing through a set of swinging doors behind the bar.
    Sophia took a long moment to scope the
place out. “Well, this is weird,” she whispered.
    “What’s really weird is she could be the
last woman on the entire planet and I bet Dan still blows it.”
    “If he does, it puts all the pressure on
you and I to repopulate.”
    Paul shuddered at the thought of
bringing a child into this world. “We should get him a lap dance.”
    She laughed and quickly covered