Bevs and Bandages
The sirens wailed what must have been nearly a block away, thankfully they grew quieter as a few seconds passed. While the worst was over, the gunfire and running, there was still a risk in stepping out of the hidey hole Emory and the Boss had found themselves in. It was a thankfully familiar hidey hole, one with some basic first aid and two bottles of cheap booze.
Having dug out all the supplies from what he supposed counted as a kitchen cabinet, Emory turned to Boss and held out bottle of whiskey. “Go ahead and take a shot because I’m going to need you to not give a shit when I start stitching you back together.”










