Orthodontics in the Zombie Apocalypse

5. The Street Rat Needs a Shower (2/2)

"See? Running water," I proclaim happily, hands on my hips to express my grand triumph.

The girl does nothing to suppress an eye-roll. "Congratulations. You figured out that a shower has running water."

"I don't know how the process works. Maybe they need living human beings to regulate the water or something."

"I don't know much about it either, but it's only been, like, two weeks since everything happened."

Everything. It's a big, empty word. A word that resonates a sense of ominous, eerie meaning. I guess the zombie apocalypse really does constitute as "everything". Something so big ravaging the world--seems like enough to earn the title of "everything".

"Hop in, kid," I order the little tramp.

She smells like week-old compost, dog poop, and rotten eggs all wrapped into one, and that's without an extreme exaggeration.

As she passes, I'm met with a dirty look.

"I'm gonna go find my friend while you do that, okay?" I say, my voice taking on a higher pitch to appeal to the baby-faced kid.

"How old do you think I am?"

"I don't know. Four, five?"

"I'm nine." She stares at me for a long time, forcing chills across my spine. It's creepy. "Just don't ditch me, okay?"

I stare into her big, brown, watering eyes. How do I tell her that that was my plan all along? Don't. Just lie and say you wouldn't dream of it.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Her eyes narrow.

Too far? "It was the 'dream' part that threw you off, wasn't it?"

She continues to glare at me.

"Just shower already! You smell like a dead fish that used sulphur as perfume. I won't go father than the sidewalk around the perimeter of the building. If there's a zombie, run. And—" I whip open the cupboard under the sink and kick out the curved, porcelain pipe. "—use this if necessary." I set the pipe in the sink and head for the exit. I stop and toss he bar of soap at the little girl on my way out.

"Just so you know, my name is—"

"I won't remember it by the time I get back here, so don't even bother," I call over my shoulder.

I cradle my own pipe—the one from the highway—tightly to my chest, wielding it in anticipation of running into a zombie. Or that old man. He was pretty scary.

An extremely large part of me—basically anything except for one pinky toe—advises that I head for the hills now and leave the little girl as nothing more than some small, insignificant part of a bad memory. But that one pinky toe holds strong and reminds me that I practically promised her I wouldn't run off.

"God, it sucks being a decent human being."

"With so few humans left in the world, I would hope at least one is decent," Mikah replies.

I gasp, not realizing it was him at first, and bring my pipe up for a swing.

He holds his hands out protectively. "Piper, calm down. Geez."

My arms drop. "Oh, thank goodness you're alright!" I wrap my arms tightly around his neck. "I don't know what I would have done if the zombies got you!"

"You mean 'cause you'd need to find a new source of orthodontist?"

I shrug. "Mostly that. And I wouldn't want to be left alone to deal with a six year-old brat."

"You didn't ditch her, did you?" Genuine concern is evident in his tone.

"Of course not! Like I said, I'm a decent person."

"Okay, Piper. Where did you leave her?"

I point directly above me at the higher floors in the building looming over us. "She's showering."

"You left a six year-old alone in the shower?" he cries.

"I'm sure she won't drown."

"But the zombies, Piper!"

+++

A/N

I even made sure to have this chapter done early for a Friday update! Hope you enjoyed it, regardless that it's a week and a day late...