It was light and compact for a submachine gun, not much bigger than an average pistol. A high-capacity forty-seven-round magazine sat next to it. He hadn't used it since joining the group inside the skyscraper. It had been assigned to him when he was put on the building's security team.
"What are you thinking about, dog? You're quiet today. What's up?"
Kilker stared out the window, watching the rain fall past on its way to the streets far below.
"They don't seem so scary from up here," he said dreamily. "They look like ants."
"Dead ants, maybe," Carson replied. Grinning, he started humming the Pink Panther theme. "Dead ant dead ant, dead ant, dead ant dead ant dead ant dead a-"
"Shut up!" Kilker snapped. "God, you're such a dick sometimes."
"Yo, what the fuck is your problem?"
Kilker jumped to his feet, his cigarette falling from his mouth.
"My problem? I'm sick of this shit. I'm sick of this fucking building and fucking guard duty and the fucking smell from those things down there. I'm fucking sick and tired of it, man. I'm not a soldier. I was a fucking frycook, for fuck's sake!"
"So tell Bates you want to be transferred to the cafeteria," Carson yawned. "I mean, shit, man, I worked in a convenience store. Never held a gun in my life until I came here. But I'm glad I've got one now. You should be too."
Kilker didn't respond.
Carson pointed to the smoldering cigarette. "You gonna finish that? It'd be a shame to let it go to waste."
Kilker didn't appear to have heard him. Mumbling and cursing, he walked toward the elevator and pressed the up button.
"Dude, where are you going? You can't just leave. We're on duty."
"Fuck this," Kilker hissed. "They can't get in and we can't get out. So why does it matter? What are we guarding against?"
"You never know, bro. They could figure out a way in. Get their hands on a bomb or something."
"We should be so lucky."
Carson picked up the still-lit butt, took a drag, and walked over to his friend.
"Seriously, Kilker. What is your malfunction? You're acting weird, man."
"Do you know what today is?"
Carson scratched his head. "Tuesday, I think. To be honest, dude, I don't really keep track anymore. Seems kind of pointless, you know?"
"Today would have been my father's birthday."
"Oh. Well, when we get off, we'll do a few shots of tequila in his honor. How does that sound?"
Kilker ignored him. His eyes were far away. In the silence, the gears hummed inside the elevator shaft. When he spoke again, his voice seemed far away.
"Did you get along with your father, Carson?"
"I did-until about tenth grade when he figured out that I was gay. After that, we weren't really on speaking terms, you know? My mom wigged out too. She always wanted a grandbaby. Guess she didn't think I could adopt."
"I loved my dad. He never judged me. Supported me in everything I ever did."
The elevator bell dinged, and the doors opened. Kilker stepped inside and they started to slide shut again.
Carson stuck a booted foot out and stopped them.
"Look, dog, I know you've been depressed lately, but what are you doing?
You gonna quit or something?"
"I just need some air. Come with me?"
The pleading tone in his voice gave Carson goose bumps.
"Okay, man, but we can't be gone long. Five minutes, no more. Deal? I don't want Bates or Forrest kicking our ass."
Kilker smiled. "Deal."
Carson picked up his MAC-11 and then stepped in alongside Kilker. The doors hissed shut. Kilker pressed a button on the control panel, and the elevator began to rise.
"Yo, you hit the wrong button. That's Mr. Ramsey's floor. We can't go up there."
"We're not going to see, Mr. Ramsey," Kilker told him quietly. "We're going to get off the elevator and go to the fire escape."
"For what? To get in even deeper shit?"
"No. Trust me."
"Dude, you're whacked."
Kilker ignored the comment. "I never got the chance to say goodbye to my dad. Before those things took over the city, during the riots, while the phones still worked, I called home. I just wanted to talk to him, tell him that I loved him and that I was proud of him. So I called, and he answered."
"And you got to tell him? That's good, man. More than a lot of folks got."
Kilker shook his head. "No, I didn't get to tell him."
"But you said he answered?"
"He did-but it wasn't him." The young man's face clouded and he blinked back tears. "It wasn't him. It was one of those fucking things! Living inside of him."
"Shit."
"Yeah. I thought it was him at first, even though he sounded odd. But then it started saying these things- horrible things. And I knew."
"That's fucked up, dude. I'm sorry."
Kilker sniffed, wiping away tears.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He stepped out.
"Kilker." Carson grabbed his arm. "Where are we going?"
"I told you," Kilker whispered, "the stairwell. You can get to the roof from the fire escape."
"The roof? Are you fucking crazy?"
"No." His voice cracked with grief. "Just tired. Sick and tired. If this is living, then I don't want to live anymore."
He pulled free and walked toward the red door to the fire escape. Carson followed him, unsure of what to do. The plush carpeted hallway was silent. There was no sign of Ramsey or Bates.
"Hold up, dog. What-you want to be a fucking zombie?"
"No, I just don't want to live anymore. I'm tired, Carson."
He pushed the door open and started up the stairs.
Carson began to panic.
"Kilker. Hey, man, don't do this. Come on, fucking stop it. We can't go out there. The birds will tear us to pieces!"
They reached the top of the stairwell. Kilker pointed to the protective gear hanging on the wall. It looked like a cross between a beekeeper's outfit and the clothing worn by somebody working inside a nuclear reactor.
"Then put one of these on. That's what Quinn and DiMassi and Steve do when they go out to the helicopter. The birds can't get through them. I won't need one."
He put his hand against the door and closed his eyes. Then he took a deep breath, paused, and steadied himself.
Carson grabbed his shoulder.
"Don't."
"I have to. I can't do this anymore, man. It hurts too fucking much. Let me go?"
Carson stared into his friend's eyes, and saw that he meant it.
Swallowing hard, Carson let go. Kilker turned back to the door and suddenly, Carson jumped him from behind.
"Mr. Bates," he shouted. "Mr. Ramsey! Help!"
"What are you doing?" Kilker grunted as Carson wrapped him in a bear hug.