The Spice Girls drown out the city.
"Sorry," Kurt says to himself as much as he says to the dead that will come to the music. "As though being dead wasn't bad enough."
Kurt rides the bike to the movie theater. He walks upstairs with a flashlight, two dangling from his hips so he can see side-to-side, one in his hand strapped to his wrist, and a fourth on his rifle. He checks each corner and slowly goes along behind the machines. He locks this place up tight, knowing a dead up here would lead to a mistake he couldn't get away from. A creak fills the dark hallway of projectors. He raises his rifle, spins, and flips on the light in a single movement. Is a practiced and he is aimed and shining before he can recognize the sound.
"Building is getting old, Kurt. That's all." He turns on the projector and lights. He walks downstairs into the theater and pads the doors with mattresses. The lobby, exits, and even the walls have an extra layer of sheets. The movie plays, completely silenced from the outside world.
Kurt double-checks the entrance as he makes himself some popcorn during the previews.