"This guy looks about your size." Farris stood over the now mostly-headless corpse.
Shepherd finished reloading and knelt down: like-new basketball shoes, not so much as a scuff on the outside. But the inside… "He's been dead too long. I'd never get the stink out."
"Beggars can't be—"
"I'm not taking his shoes."
"Suit yourself." Farris moved on, peering into cars that hadn't moved in three months. "Maybe there's a strip mall around somewhere."
"I don't even know where we are." Shepherd turned, called to the group. "Hey, anybody from around here? Or just knows where there's a shoe store?
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