lord as my witness, bob, one of these days that thing's gonna hit you back.
yeah, they got names for that kind a relationship. the jukebox on the other side of the diner starts up with the merle haggard tune "i'm a lonesome fugitive". a stunning looking sixteen-year-old girl with dyed-black hair and a piercing or three, is leaning seductively over the jukebox, swaying gently to the music. the headband doubling as her mini-skirt reveals her knock-out figure in a way that really doesn't leave much up to the imagination. she's a billboard of rebellion.
i told you to get the satellite tv. but you don't wanna listen.
history channel, man!
nice work, bob. what the hell's that?
lot a folks could be hurt.
there ain't no radiation comin' from those things. plus that don't explain the radio being out too. some of those stations broadcast over hundreds of miles. any quake that big and we would a felt it.
shoot her, jeep! jeep's about to fire, when the old lady's eyes go all white.
shoot the fucking bitch! gladys rockets straight at him! but jeep's too afraid to move. he clamps his eyes shut, bracing himself for the end.
seventy, maybe eighty miles. kyle shoots him a look. eighty miles?! pedal to the floor time. audrey leans forward from the back seat.
to get my bible!
well somebody's gotta start prayin'.  bob's about to respond when he hears the buzzing. bob, charlie and jeep slowly approach the windows to see the
(raises a bottle of
now, son, i'm sure you don't wanna go spillin' blood for no good reason in front of all these decent people, do ya? our friend bob here ain't worth the trouble it'd cause ya.
lord, have mercy. (waving back audrey and
everybody just stay still!
listen! over the wind, another sound becomes audible. the delicate chime of a calliope.
you hear what i'm hearing?
it sounds almost like.
the fuck y'all lookin' at me for?
bob! bob swings the shotgun like a club -- crack! -- knocking the bitch clear off the roof. but the move has made his slide even faster. he drops the shotgun, trying to hold on, but he can't stop!
grab my hand! bob reaches up and clasps percy's hook, praying that it stays on. but this chick ain't finished yet. up she comes once more. her razor sharp fingernails claw up the metal roof. screech!
come on, motherfuckers! come on! closer and closer the creatures come. most are eviscerated by the fire from the rooftop.
you sayin' this is the apocalypse?
son, i don't know what bible you been readin', but in my version, the angels are the good guys. michael looks squarely at percy.
c'mon, bob. have you looked outside recently? those aren't exactly our regular customers out there.
makes you wonder about mary.
they're out there. sons of bitches. i can feel `em.
navy, two tours. but the second one didn't work out so well, so i didn't get to go back for a third. suppose that makes me lucky in a way. served with bob, you know. that's how i ended up in this place.
dark. like this. kyle nods. scared. he takes out his 45. nervously switches it from hand to hand.
so what's with that gun?
your piece. the one you killed grandma with. don't reckon it's for huntin' buck.
protection from what?
people.
just regular people or uh.
irregular people then.
so it's a work thing, is it?
this business of yours.  you like it? kyle's eyes narrow.
when i was a kid my father would sit by my bed every night before i'd go to sleep and he'd say to me, percy, if you don't wake up tomorrow, if it turns out that today was your last day on earth, would you be proud of what you've done in this life? cuz if you ain't, then you better start gettin' square. kyle looks at percy, fear in his eyes, then he turns back to the darkness. and the evil that surrounds them.