She shoots him (another) glare.

"You know I'm not wrong."

She glares at him some more.

"Home, sweet home," said Cully, propping the rifle against the cement block wall. "So what are yall doing here, anyway? I had just gone on my monthly supply run; I swear I couldnt believe it when I got back and saw that so-called car sitting there. Good God, howd you even get that thing out here without blowing it up?"

Alex laughed. "It wasnt easy. I thought we were going to be buzzard food a few times." He dropped onto one of the scuffed wooden chairs.

She stays standing.

"And as for what were doing here..." Alex shook his head, not really sure where to begin. "Its a long story."

"Well, in that case we need a drink to help it along," said Cully. "Lemme see what Ive got to wet our whistles." He lurched his way into the small kitchen, humming to himself.

Okay, something was definitely up. But Alex couldn't tell.

She doesn't notice, because she doesn't know Cully.

Cully reappeared, holding a bottle and two glasses. There was a clinking noise as he set the glasses on the table. "Youre in luck, my friend, I still got some Mr. Beam. And how about you, ma'am? You up for a drink?"

"No."

"You sure?" He waggled the bottle enticingly. "Old friends and new friends, all together--deserves a little celebration, dont you think?"