empty, until he heard a weak voice from behind one of the counters.
With his shotgun raised again, Mack slowly checked behind the kitchen counter. He saw a Hispanic man sitting on the tiled floor, leaning up against the shelves below the prep surface above. His neck was contorted and bulging to the side. On his chest there was a name tag that read “Gustavo”.
“ Por favor, mátame,” pleaded Gustavo. He didn’t move. Only his eyes met Mack.
“What happened here?” asked Mack with his shotgun aimed directly at Gustavo.
“Mátame. Kill me,” still Gustavo didn’t move.
He must’ve broken his neck.
“Kill me before I turn into one of those monsters.”
“I’m not going to kill you Gustavo.” Mack lowered his shotgun. “At least not in here. Can you move?”
“No.”
Mack put his shotgun on one of the counters. “This is probably going to hurt buddy. But I don’t see any other way.” He spotted a wooden spoon. After retrieving it he put it in Gustavo’s mouth. “Bite down on it.”
Just as Mack predicted, moving Gustavo was very painful for the beleaguered cook. Screams of agony were muffled by the wooden spoon. Mack dragged the man by his shoulders through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room at Mama’s Place.
“The toilets work. Who’s that?” Amber was coming out of the bathrooms at the same time as Mack was putting Gustavo into a chair at one of the dining room tables.
“His name is Gustavo. I found him in the kitchen.”
“Is he…?”
“No he’s not dead. But I think he’s paralyzed.” Amber gave Mack a confused look when he explained. “He can’t move.”
“Oh. So…what are we going to do with him?”
“Leave him here I guess. We can’t drag him around with us.”
“Mátame,” pleaded Gustavo after he spit out the wooden spoon.
I’m not going to kill you. That’s one thing I don’t need on my conscience.
“What’s he saying?”
“He wants us to kill him.”
“We’re not going to, right?”
“Of course not. We’re not murderers, apocalypse or not.” Mack didn’t notice but Amber cringed at his answer.
“Okay. What are we going to do?”
“We leave him here.”
Mack walked back towards the kitchen. “Sit down, take a load off. I’m going to find something to cook.”
There was a large stainless steel refrigerator. Mack opened it up and found it stocked with all sorts of meats. The man wasn’t much of a cook, so he chose the easiest thing to prepare. He took out two frozen hamburgers.
The grill, where’s the grill? Not far from the fridge, next to a still on deep fryer, was the grill. Mack threw the frozen burgers on to it. They slid across like air hockey pucks and bounced off the back. He turned the knobs on the front. In less than a minute, the burgers started sizzling.
“Are you hurt?” asked Amber knowing damn well that the man propped up in the chair across from her was indeed injured.
“My neck,” answered Gustavo. His voice was affected due to his ability to only breathe through his mouth.
“Was it them?”
Gustavo didn’t answer.
“Yeah… it was them. So what happened here? It doesn’t look like the meat puppets ran through.” Amber was referring to the fact that Mama’s Place wasn’t a mess. The inside and out simply looked as if everyone got up and left.
“Fine, don’t talk to me.” Amber got up and decided to take a stroll around the restaurant.
On the industrial carpeted floor of Mama’s Place, Amber found a wallet under one of the tables. She picked it up and rummaged through, figuring that its owner wouldn’t mind. The first thing she took out was a card on the left side. It was a driver’s license.
“Bernard Pierce,” she read the name on the license. The picture on it was of a meek looking man with gold framed glasses and a brown goatee. “Hello Bernard. Let’s see what else we can find in here.”
In the opposite pocket of the wallet, Amber found what looked like
With his shotgun raised again, Mack slowly checked behind the kitchen counter. He saw a Hispanic man sitting on the tiled floor, leaning up against the shelves below the prep surface above. His neck was contorted and bulging to the side. On his chest there was a name tag that read “Gustavo”.
“ Por favor, mátame,” pleaded Gustavo. He didn’t move. Only his eyes met Mack.
“What happened here?” asked Mack with his shotgun aimed directly at Gustavo.
“Mátame. Kill me,” still Gustavo didn’t move.
He must’ve broken his neck.
“Kill me before I turn into one of those monsters.”
“I’m not going to kill you Gustavo.” Mack lowered his shotgun. “At least not in here. Can you move?”
“No.”
Mack put his shotgun on one of the counters. “This is probably going to hurt buddy. But I don’t see any other way.” He spotted a wooden spoon. After retrieving it he put it in Gustavo’s mouth. “Bite down on it.”
Just as Mack predicted, moving Gustavo was very painful for the beleaguered cook. Screams of agony were muffled by the wooden spoon. Mack dragged the man by his shoulders through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room at Mama’s Place.
“The toilets work. Who’s that?” Amber was coming out of the bathrooms at the same time as Mack was putting Gustavo into a chair at one of the dining room tables.
“His name is Gustavo. I found him in the kitchen.”
“Is he…?”
“No he’s not dead. But I think he’s paralyzed.” Amber gave Mack a confused look when he explained. “He can’t move.”
“Oh. So…what are we going to do with him?”
“Leave him here I guess. We can’t drag him around with us.”
“Mátame,” pleaded Gustavo after he spit out the wooden spoon.
I’m not going to kill you. That’s one thing I don’t need on my conscience.
“What’s he saying?”
“He wants us to kill him.”
“We’re not going to, right?”
“Of course not. We’re not murderers, apocalypse or not.” Mack didn’t notice but Amber cringed at his answer.
“Okay. What are we going to do?”
“We leave him here.”
Mack walked back towards the kitchen. “Sit down, take a load off. I’m going to find something to cook.”
There was a large stainless steel refrigerator. Mack opened it up and found it stocked with all sorts of meats. The man wasn’t much of a cook, so he chose the easiest thing to prepare. He took out two frozen hamburgers.
The grill, where’s the grill? Not far from the fridge, next to a still on deep fryer, was the grill. Mack threw the frozen burgers on to it. They slid across like air hockey pucks and bounced off the back. He turned the knobs on the front. In less than a minute, the burgers started sizzling.
“Are you hurt?” asked Amber knowing damn well that the man propped up in the chair across from her was indeed injured.
“My neck,” answered Gustavo. His voice was affected due to his ability to only breathe through his mouth.
“Was it them?”
Gustavo didn’t answer.
“Yeah… it was them. So what happened here? It doesn’t look like the meat puppets ran through.” Amber was referring to the fact that Mama’s Place wasn’t a mess. The inside and out simply looked as if everyone got up and left.
“Fine, don’t talk to me.” Amber got up and decided to take a stroll around the restaurant.
On the industrial carpeted floor of Mama’s Place, Amber found a wallet under one of the tables. She picked it up and rummaged through, figuring that its owner wouldn’t mind. The first thing she took out was a card on the left side. It was a driver’s license.
“Bernard Pierce,” she read the name on the license. The picture on it was of a meek looking man with gold framed glasses and a brown goatee. “Hello Bernard. Let’s see what else we can find in here.”
In the opposite pocket of the wallet, Amber found what looked like
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