The place was empty. I thought "Everyone had shown up to watch the fight and get their tickets punched." I laughed to myself. I really cracked me up sometimes. I found a cardboard box and began loading it up with what looked worth taking from the kitchen. There wasn't much. I walked back to find Zane sitting in the same place I had left him, my .38 on the table, his arm around Woof and the dead already attracting flies.
I set the box on the table, slipped the .38 into a pocket, and told Zane "Go through their pockets, look for keys, we need a new ride."
He hadn't looked up at me when I came in and he wasn't responding to what I told him to do. I bit back my irritation, took a deep breath, and dropped to a knee so we were all at the same level. "Zane." He twitched but he didn't look at me. "Zane." He slowly turned his head to look at me and I saw he had been crying. In the softest voice I could manage I told him "Zane. It sucks. I know. Your Mom is somewhere around here. I need you to help me find her."
He looked at me blankly and I watched as he came back to reality. It took longer than I wanted but he did. I got a nod from him and "I'm okay." I doubted that but all I needed was him functioning. "Lets change up. I'll look for the keys. I want you to go pour their drinks from the bar on the floor. Do the same for any alcohol you can find behind the bar. Okay?"
"Okay." I slapped him on the shoulder and stood up ignoring the twinge of pain in my hip. "Let's do it."
We did it. I tossed the handguns from the bodies in the box with the food I found. It ended up full. I found a couple of sets of keys with clickers. I was going to drive all night and hope for the best. Not much of a plan but it was about all I could think of. I wasn't all that much of a plan guy anyways.