Eight years ago, the government of Neo New York bought him out of the business and so they decided to retire on the island. He started out in the Gold Quadrant, but ended up in Silver as he realized he was blowing through his money fast. His brother, who had a wife and kids, went through his cut of the money faster and ended up in the Copper Quadrant in just a couple of years. Because they were newcomers to the island, they couldn’t get jobs. Neo New York was overpopulated as it was, so one way to discourage immigration was to encourage companies to hire employees based on residency. Once Alonzo’s money ran out, he wouldn’t be able to earn any more legally. That’s why Alonzo decided to start earning money by illegal means.
“I want you to come work for me,” Alonzo asked his nephew, the night before he was abducted. “I’ve got a little business going in Silver and could use your help.”
Tony, his nephew, was nineteen. A scrawny little good for nothing punk who made next to nothing as a tattooist.
“What kind of business?” Tony asked, mopping blood off the floor of his shop from when two of his punk customers got into a knife fight earlier in the day.
Alonzo sat down on a homemade stool barely strong enough to hold his fat ass off the ground. “Waste.”
“You want me to sell drugs?” Tony asked.
Alonzo laughed. “No, I’d sell it in Silver. There ain’t no fucking money in Copper. I want you to make it.”
“I don’t do illegal shit,” Tony said.
“Nothing’s illegal in Copper,” Alonzo said.
Tony took off his sweat-stained shirt, revealing a collage of black sunflower tattoos. “Even if I agreed, how the hell would I get the stuff from Copper to Silver? They’d never let me through the barrier without a pass and they don’t issue passes to anybody. I don’t even know how you managed to get one.”
“I’ve got my connections,” Alonzo said. “I’ve already arranged to have it smuggled through the produce shipments.”
Tony put his mop in a doorless closet. “I don’t know, Uncle Alonzo. My shop’s doing fine. I’m the top tattoo artist in Copper. Most of my clients are assholes, but they respect me.”
“But you make shit,” Alonzo said. “You knocked up that whore girlfriend of yours. You need to make some real money if you’re going to raise a kid.”
“I’ll do it my way,” Tony said. “If I’m going to be a dad, I need to do honest work.”
“Honest work?” Alonzo said. “You sound like your idiot father.”
Tony glared at him when he said that. It was too soon to say shit about his father. “Find somebody else.”
“But you’re family,” Alonzo said. “Believe it or not, I care about what happens to you. You’ve been the closest thing I’ve had to a son. I want to see you living better. If business goes well I might even be able to get you citizenship in Silver.”
“I’m sorry, Uncle,” he replied.
Alonzo stood up. “You’re starting to piss me off, kid.”
“What do you want me to say? I don’t want to work with you. The answer is no.”
“Do you want to raise your kid in this dump?” Alonzo said, getting in his nephew’s face. “Do you want to end up like your dumbfuck father? Knifed in an alley by some punk over pocket change?”
“Don’t you fucking talk about him like that, Uncle Alonzo.” Tony’s eyes were burning red.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, ya moron,” Alonzo yelled. “If you want to end up like my idiot brother then go right ahead. Have a kid with some bitch when you got no money. See what happens once the slut gets sick of you and takes off, leaving you to raise the brat on your own. You’ll slave away for the rest of your life keeping your kid fed, then one day you’ll find a knife in your guts. Because, like your father, you were too much of a dumbfuck to make the right decisions.”
Then Tony punched Alonzo in the stomach with all of his strength. Alonzo slumped over and gasped, nearly puking out his breakfast of smoked halibut and poached eggs. Tony didn’t say anything. He stepped away from his uncle and started putting away his inks.
“Fine, if that’s how you want it…” Alonzo held his stomach and caught his breath. Then he unfolded a jackknife and cut his nephew’s throat while his back was turned. “I don’t need a worthless fuck like you anyway.”
Tony’s eyes widened as his blood gushed down his black sunflower tattoos. His body landed on the floor, in the spot he had just mopped.
“Stupid little shit,” Alonzo said, folding up the knife.
He didn’t even bat an eye as he passed his nephew’s pregnant girlfriend on the street outside of the tattoo shop. He just spit on the ground by her feet and walked on.
When they get to the roof of the hotel, Adriana and Alonzo see Heinz peering over the edge, tying shreds of ancient bedsheets into a rope. Heinz’s suit and coat are perfectly clean, despite being a resident of the Copper District. His trench coat flutters in the cool breeze as he stares up at the violent clouds that smother the sky around them. The sound of moaning zombies echoes through the yard. A camera ball hovers by his head.
“What are you doing?” Alonzo asks.
Heinz finishes his sheet-rope and looks over at the obese man.
“Give me your bag,” Heinz says.
Heinz lifts up his backpack. “Why?”
“It’s the smallest.” Heinz snatches it out of his hand and ties the end of the rope to the straps. “Get back.”
After the fat man and the teen prostitute back away, Heinz runs like a pole-vaulter and tosses the backpack over the edge of the roof. It goes over the zombies, past the yard, and lands outside of the perimeter. The electronic lock beeps off.
Then Heinz reels the backpack in with the rope, pulling it up to them. He hands it back to Alonzo. When Alonzo opens it, he pulls out his weapon: a .45 caliber revolver.
Alonzo smiles. He likes the way it feels in his hand. Then he looks down at Heinz’s enormous mountaineering pack.
“How are you going to toss that big thing all the way over there?”
“I won’t.” Heinz pulls his blond bangs out of his eye. “I’ll have to find another way.” He holds out his hand to Adriana’s pack. “Now you.”
When the second bag is thrown, it doesn’t make it quite as far. As Heinz reels it back up, the movement catches the attention of a zombie and it lunges on top of the pack. Heinz tugs and the bag yanks free of the zombie’s grasp, but now it is covered in purple slime-meat.
Five more zombies go for the bag, they grab at it, fight over it. The rope goes loose as a knot in the rope comes undone. The bag is lost.
Before the trio back away from the edge of the roof, the zombies look up to see where the sheet-rope is falling from. When they see the three contestants, their mouths begin to salivate a green fluid.
“Fresh brains!”
The zombies rush toward the building, a dozen more of them follow suit. In the distance, zombies recently woken from hibernation are heading their way.
Heinz turns to Alonzo. “Go downstairs and hold them off.” Then to Adriana. “Reinforce those doors. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Who the fuck says you can boss me around, pal?” Alonzo says.
“You’re the only one with a gun,” Heinz says. “Use it if you want to live.”