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said, scoffing lightly.  "With crutches you'd be able to walk alright, but you'd be slower than shit.  The zombies could still catch you, even these things you hang out with here in the forest."
    With a grin, he replied, "Yeah, but I could use them to beat the assholes over the head or something!"
    I rolled my eyes .  "That wouldn't work either, except maybe to slow them down a little.  You need to give 'em a really hard whack to the head if you wanna get anything done."
    "Yeah, I know .  Hey, what happened to your shirt?"
    "It got ripped , to shreds actually, which sucks 'cause it was a nice shirt.  It was all bloody and shit anyway from killing zombies.  Have you had to fight many?"
    "A few," he responded, shrugging.  "At first they came right up to the house but I had a chainsaw then and I tore them all to pieces.  It was sweet.  Then they stopped for a while, but I think they've been gathering in this area, getting ready to storm the house."
    "What happened to the chainsaw?"
    Scowling, he replied, "It ran outa gas..."
    "Yeah.. .  I know what that's like."
    After that there was a brief silen ce, as we both pondered our own separate thoughts, until Andrew broke it.  "Um...  do you have fireworks?"
    Suddenly I remembered why I had come here; to get supplies ! 
    The grin returned to Bogo's face.  "Fuegos artificiales!  Hell yeah!  Good thinking, we can use them to blow zombies to shit.  I like it!”  Still grinning, he got out of his chair, balancing himself on his good leg.  "C'mon Nash, help me up to my room.  I still have a shitload left, let's go."
    In unison the three of us walked swiftly as possible, up the stairs.  That was a hell of a task; Bogo nearly fell backwards and broke his ass twice.  But eventually we made it up to his room, which was the one part of his house that remained exactly as I had remembered it.  Junk lay strewn about the floor, posters advocating various rock and metal groups adorned the walls, and in the corner lay the beat up old mattress that served as Bogo's bed.  On the right wall sat a large window overlooking the driveway, and on the opposite side sat another overlooking his backyard.  But right now I didn't give a flying fuck about any of that; my attention was focused on the shelves, which were full of as many fireworks as Bogo'd been able to get his pyromanical hands on. 
    "Sweet !”  I exclaimed joyfully. This was more than I had hoped for.  Even Andrew seemed impressed.  "This is perfect!  With all this shit we can really fuck some zombies up good!" I didn't know much about explosives, but this looked good.  This was something that was going to help me at last, this was even better than more gas for my chainsaw.  "Wow...  I murmured under my breath, just staring, while Bogo stood nearby, chuckling at my amazement.  I would have stared even longer had I not suddenly been jolted out of my concentration by a loud smashing sound, coming from downstairs.

Chapter 6
    "The fuck was that!?" Bogo and I shouted in unison, but Andrew was more resourceful.
    "Nash, look !  " he said, tugging my arm to the window.  Outside, advancing on the house, were more zombies than I'd ever seen before in my life.  They were ferals, for the most part, although a few of them looked recently dead, and some could even have been mistaken for the living.  I recoiled in fright; what could we do?  How could we escape?  Especially with Bogo's leg as it was... 
    From the oth er side of the room, Bogo said, "They're in the backyard, too...  they've got us surrounded.”  For the first time in my life I heard Bogo speak with fear in his voice, cracking at every other word.
    "Get the matches , get the fireworks.”  I said, pacing around the room nervously.  "We can throw them out the window at the zombies, at least kill at many as we can."
    Bogo sighed, and shook his head.  "No," he said nervously.  "They're already inside, we heard them break down the door." With a sigh of