Erik ran over to the open door and noticed four zombies all wandering toward the garage.  He closed the door hard and luckily it had a lock that worked.  With the door shut and the evening light fading it was difficult to see anything inside the garage.  “They are going to bust they door down,” Eric said to noone in particular, “I need to find something to brace the door so we can at least be safe for the night.  He looked at Kali, who stood unmoving against the garage door.  He followed her gaze back to the zombie nurse who laid dead on the concrete floor.  “I’m afraid we are stuck with nurse Betty for the night.”  He smiled and Kali smiled back for a short while then walked toward the far end of the garage door. 

“There has got to be some tools in here and something to block the door.”  Erik started at the back of the garage and moved toward the garage door.  He could only see faint shadows but he managed to find a hammer and a large sheet of plywood.  While searching for a box of nails Erik found a half empty bottle of Kentucky whiskey.  He picked up the bottle and opened it, took a swallow and shook of the sting as it slide down his parched throat.  Behind the bottle he found the box of nails.  “Alright kid we are going to be alright, tonight,” he said confidently as he walked over to the garage door and laid the plywood against it.  He jumped back, almost lossing his new bottle of whiskey when the door knob began to move but the door held tight.  “We have to do better then this,” Erik thought and remembered the ax buried in the nurse zombie.  Kali cringed as Erik wriggled the ax from the zombies shoulder till finally freeing it with a stomach churning pop.  Erik cleaned off the ax, on what was left of the nurses blouse, and picked up the plywood against the door. 

After a few swings and a few more swigs of whiskey Erik slid the plywood behind the door handle and nailed it down.  The whiskey began to take hold of his motor functions after about 30 minutes and Kali watched as he struggled to smash in the last few nails.  Kali had seen all this before.  Her father was no saint.  Twice convicted of driving under the influence her father had a reputation of being the worse of the worse.  “He had robbed every bank in Kingsboro twice,” he bragged once to her.  The problem was her father was a good father but a terrible person.  She knew that her rescuer was just as out of touch with reality as her father.  An alchoholic, completely obvious with how quickly he finished off the whiskey, but also not a bad guy when it came to protecting her.  Erik finished nailing up the door, while zombies continued to try and open the door.  He walked, with a slight kant over to her and sat on the floor next to a broom which promptly hit him in the head.  Kali smiled a bit larger then before and slid to the floor. 

“So, little girl,” said Erik, “What is your name?”

“Kali,” she said quietly.

“Nice name, My name is Erik…sorry you have to be stuck with an old drunk in a garage surrounded by zombies.”

“Its ok,” Kali said then jumped when the zombie’s began pounding on the door.

“Stomp pounding on the door you idiots,” shouted Erik, the whiskey bending each sylable so that it sounded like he spoke in a bubble.

“You can’t get in..when Erik Sears makes a door he frickn makes a door that you can’t use.”  Erik laughed and Kali smiled politely still uneasy with her new companion but glad to be alive.

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