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Chapter 7

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I exited the store and waved at the survivors. After checking up and down the highway again, they left the shelter of the trees and crossed the pavement.

"Are you sure there are no more zombies in there?" Ben asked, eyeing up the grocery store – and the food in it – eagerly.

Nope. I tied them up for a tea party later. Instead of voicing that thought, I replied, "I checked every aisle and the back area. Chloe was with me, and she didn't find anything either."

Ben nudged Hank's elbow with his baseball bat. "Let's double-check the store, just to be on the safe side."

I snorted and crossed my arms but waited by the entrance with the others as the two entered the store. It was only a minute or so before Hank reappeared and waved us in.

After everyone was inside, Hank closed the two glass doors. He ripped a metal handle off a bucket and twisted the piece of metal around the handles like a twist tie. I was somewhat impressed by his ingenuity.

I also made a mental note to dodge any punch he may throw my way. That big boy could possibly do some damage. I might be a zombie, but I wasn't superwoman.

The group enthusiastically scoured the store to pick out their favorite foods for a late dinner. Hank managed to push several waist-high produce display stands to the side to open up a corner for us to sit on the linoleum. After picking a few things off the shelves for myself, I dumped a bag of dog food on the floor and emptied a bottle of water into a bowl for Chloe.

I sat against the wall, choosing a place that allowed me to see the doors. Liz came to sit beside me with a half-eaten granola bar while I tried out my new can opener on a can of pineapple. My mouth watered in anticipation; it had been months since I had last tasted the sweet fruit.

The adults had quite a variety of stuff spread in front of them like a buffet. They practically inhaled the food like they hadn't had a decent meal in weeks. I slowly nibbled on the pineapple, savoring the rare treat that I might not see again.

As they ate, Tom asked Ben, "How long do you think it'll be until someone drives by?"

"Not sure. Other than you guys, we haven't seen anyone else on the road since we started driving."

"At least we have food," Nicky added around a mouthful of crackers. "Unlike when we fled from the Stronghold as if dozens of zombies were on our heels, which there were."

"May I ask what happened?" Marissa inquired tentatively.

"The Stronghold got overrun," Ben said shortly, clearly not ready to talk about it just yet.

Marissa took the hint and let the subject drop. The subsequent silence was heavy and awkward.

Ben kept glancing at me before finally asking, "Do you plan on ever taking off those sunglasses?"

"No." My answer was short and clipped. This subject was a bit of touchy one for me.

He frowned at my tone. "Why not?"

I exhaled in irritation at his obsession with my sunglasses. "I have some eye damage and bright light causes me problems. It's easier to just leave them on."

He snorted as he crossed his arms and smirked at me. "Right. I bet it's just your way of looking cool."

I had to clamp down on my temper. His tone was setting off my instincts, and they wanted me to put him in his place.

I turned my head to face him and kept my voice aloof. "I've lived in the wilderness for months and just lured five zombies into a basketball court. Why would I need sunglasses to look cool?"

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