ZOMB-POCALYPSE BOOK 2

Chapter Twelve

"You would not pay a million dollars to eat McDonald's again!" I snort with laughter at Ryan's crazy exclamation. The road is a long, boring place to be, especially without an iPod, or the radio—I'm almost even sorry I tossed Silas's CD! Without technology or radio, we've actually resorted to talking to each other.

"How do you know?" he challenges, but there's laughter in his eyes.

"I'm not gonna lie," Silas chimes in from the driver's side, "I miss me some Mickey D's."

I roll my eyes at them both. When I'd asked Ryan what meal he would go back and eat again before the world ended, I had expected something a little more sophisticated than a Big Mac with super-sized fries.

"What about you then, princess?" Silas asks, and I'm surprised that he's getting into our game. The miles fly by outside the window. We haven't had a problem since we left the house that Sunny has dubbed 'the bad puppy house,' and it's nearly noon. We are all in fairly high spirits now that we are finally back on the road.

"Beef dip and fries with a Caesar side salad...oh, and chicken wings," I say, my mouth watering at the very idea, and both of the guys gape at me.

"Geez Blondie, wouldn't all that stuff be against your cheerleader diet?" he teases, and I laugh. I was never overweight, but like the typical teenage girl I am, I deprived myself of everything good tasting in an effort for true perfection. I let out a very Silas-like snort and shrug. The apocalypse diet has taken care of any extra softness I might've had. Diets be damned, these days I'd probably eat an entire cow myself if we ever came across one.

I stick my tongue out at Silas, making all three of us laugh. "Hey," Ryan warns us, holding his finger up over his lip, and I look back and smile at Sunny. The little girl is fast asleep with her head leaning against the window.

I'm kind of jealous of the simplicity of children. I didn't get much sleep last night either, and I'd love to be able to lay my head down and rest, but I have this unshakable feeling that bad things will happen if I'm not awake to monitor the situation—it's crazy, I know, but that's what the apocalypse will do to a person.

"I'd go for pizza too," Ryan says, rubbing his flat belly. "All meat, loaded up with stuffed crust, and bread sticks," he finishes, and my insides quiver at the thought of eating a hot slice of pizza again.

All this talk about food makes me wonder what kind of food Ryan was eating in prison, before the zombies and his subsequent break out. You always hear horror stories..., but it doesn't seem like the time to ask with Sunny and Silas around. I doubt it's something he wants to share. Besides, I like him the way he is right now—smiling and happy.

"It's funny, I'm even craving macaroni and cheese," I tell them and watch as they both make a face. "I know," I agree, not sure why I'm thinking about the cheesy junk I couldn't stand before...

"You know, a box of macaroni isn't beyond our culinary reach..." Silas says, and I realize with a start that he's right. All we need to do is find a box and boil some water!

"We'll keep an eye out for you," Ryan promises, and I smile at them both.

It feels a little weird that we are all smiles this morning, but it's just so nice to have a bit of a break from constantly running for our lives, fighting off the dead, someone stealing our truck, getting attacked by a pack of dogs... Not that we are completely safe now, but for once, things aren't going completely sideways. We're almost to the cabin, and I feel in my gut that Abby survived. This is the first moment since the beginning of all this mess that I've actually felt able to draw a breath.