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 they 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?"

Nicky snickered as she eyed me up. "I think I have to get some sunglasses. Perhaps it'll give me the same dangerous aura that you somehow give off while just sitting there."

I knew I wouldn't be able to manage a poker face after such a comment, so I simply smirked at her, which she found hilarious. I had thought I was hiding my Nightstalker side very well, so her comment about my dangerous aura caught me off-guard. Guess I had better work on that if I wanted to blend in.

Ben shook his head. "You two are just far too much alike."

Nicky grinned at him, and I kept the smirk plastered on my face as I wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean. I didn't think Nicky and I had anything in common aside from the fact that we were short and a bit grouchy.

Nicky dusted the crumbs off her hands and got up to walk over to the display of sunglasses by the counter. She tried on a couple of pairs and struck a pose. "Hey, Hank. Do these make me look sexy or dangerous?"

Hank merely shrugged with disinterest, not even looking in her direction. I noticed that Marissa was turning red in embarrassment.

Ben shook his head with a grin. "Like an old granny."

The pair of sunglasses bounced off his head as Nicky turned back to the display. She talked to herself and to us while she debated the pros and cons of each pair.

After trying on almost every single pair – and chucking a few of them at Ben for his less-than-helpful feedback – she finally settled on a wraparound pair similar to mine, but with reflective, blueish lenses. She went down an aisle in search of supplies to clean her new accessory.

Now that sunglasses were no longer flying through the air, Marissa asked Liz, "Do you have to use the bathroom?"

"Yes."

Marissa got up and led Liz to one of the small rooms at the back of the store. I hoped the toilet wouldn't get plugged without water to let the contents drop down into the drain.

Tom tagged along with them and went into the second bathroom, which left me with Hank and Ben.

Ben turned to me with a smirk. "I bet you wear those glasses as a shield, because deep down, you're just shy and scared."

His theory wasn't even in the same solar system as the truth.

I snorted in derision at his terrible attempt at flirting. "Not even close. Go bother someone else."

He frowned slightly. "I was just being friendly."

"Put it down to me being antisocial." My tone plainly said that I didn't care about his opinion.

"That attitude isn't going to work well in a Stronghold."

"Unless my sister is there, I have no plans on staying."

"You still need to be polite if you want to go with the traders to other Strongholds. Besides, you could be waiting a week or two before someone risks a trip."

"If they can give me directions, I can walk."

He shook his head in disbelief. "That's a suicide mission. You may be able to trick and evade those common zombies, but a Runner can chase you down. And half the time, it isn't possible to tell a Runner apart from a normal zombie until they're chasing you. If you cross paths with a Nightstalker or a Terror, nothing is going to help you."

I had heard this spiel dozens of times from other people I had tried to talk to, and I wasn't interested in hearing it again, so I shrugged in indifference.

Feral Nightstalkers traveled alone, and my control gave me the upper hand against them since I could use weapons. If I played passive, they wouldn't bother me. I had never seen a Terror before, and if they were feral, they would consider me just another member of the zombie horde and ignore me if I didn't challenge them. Ben simply didn't realize the reality of the situation he was describing, and I didn't feel like enlightening him.

"Perhaps a kiss will make you change your mind about staying at the Stronghold?"

I turned to level a glare at Ben before glancing at Hank. "Can I knock your friend out? He seems delusional. Some sleep might help him."

Ben made some sort of unidentifiable noise when Hank pretended to consider my question. Hank eventually shook his head, and Ben grinned triumphantly.

"Aha! I knew Hank wouldn't let me down!"

I rolled my eyes and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation.

My voice dripped with sarcasm. "This day just keeps getting better and better..."

Ben grinned at me. "Come on, don't be like that. A kiss or two from a handsome guy would cheer you right up!"

I snorted. "Those are in rather short supply since the outbreak. Let me know if you see one walk by."

Hank chuckled as Ben cringed. He set himself up for that one...

Ben finally fell silent, possibly nursing his flattened ego. I pulled one knee up and slung my arm across it before resting my chin on my arm.

The peace and quiet was short-lived as Nicky's voice broke the silence. "That's one hell of a pose! You look all relaxed and like you don't give a shit about what Ben thinks, and yet, you look ready for action!"

I lifted my head to examine the slender woman who was staring at me as if committing my pose to memory. To try and shift the subject, I glanced at Ben and asked him, "What did you spike her water with?"

He sighed. "I wish that energy was something we could bottle. She is either a little spitfire of energy or Miss Cranky Pants – and we don't get to choose which, so enjoy this while you can."

"Hell with the pants!" she retorted. "I have the whole outfit and the socks to match!"

He barely had time to dodge a can of soup as it whizzed past his head. The second one clipped his shoulder, whilst the third one bounced off the wall above his head and ricocheted toward me.

It was times like these that my Nightstalker speed and reactions were an excellent asset. I had time to see the wayward missile coming and raise my hand to catch the spinning can before it could hit my head.

Nicky stopped her assault to gape at me. "Shit! Awesome catch!"

I lightly tossed the can back at her, and she caught it, glancing between me and it in confusion as I stood up.

As I walked past her, I commented, "It works better if you pretend to throw it like a knife."

She looked back at me in confusion. "Where are you going?"

I chuckled darkly. "To get you more ammo. Hank may not let me knock Ben out, but he doesn't seem to object to you throwing stuff. Besides, the practice will help you if you ever have to hit slower zombies."

A wide grin split across her face before she turned to face a wide-eyed Ben. "Okay, I like her."

Hank started chuckling again as I rounded the shelf, noting that there were a lot of louder thunks where her throws had missed their mark. She definitely needed more practice, and from the noises Ben was making, she was working hard to correct her aim.

"Hey!"

"Ouch! That one-"

"Ah!"

By the time I came back, Ben's complaints had become more frequent, showing that Nicky's aim was already improving. I dropped my haul on the now-empty shelf beside her. She turned to examine what I had brought as her grin somehow got even bigger. Hank started chuckling again, and I noticed that he had moved away from Ben to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

"What the hell is that for?" Ben asked, gaping at me and at the items I had brought over for Nicky.

I grinned maliciously at Ben. "It's amazing what you can use against a zombie. This will help improve Nicky's aim. Just look how much better she got in only a few minutes."

"You want her to whip one-liter cans of tomato juice at me?" he exclaimed. "And I'm not even sure I want to know what the bars of soap or the cans of Pringles are for."

Nicky rubbed her hands together gleefully before she tested the weight of a larger can. Ben watched her with a rather nervous expression, perhaps hoping she wouldn't try throwing the shoe-sized can.

I chuckled, thoroughly enjoying his predicament. "The bigger the can, the more damage it can do, but it takes a lot of practice to throw one properly." I gestured to the pile. "Bars of soap are common missiles that can be found in any house or bathroom. If you can get one in a zombie's mouth, it'll be distracted for several seconds as it tries to get rid of the taste. One can of chips is for me, since I prefer Pringles over popcorn. One is for Hank so he can also enjoy the upcoming show, and the other is for Nicky once she's done."

Ben abandoned the hardcover book he had been using as a shield and jumped to his feet before bolting down the closest aisle. "Get me away from these crazy people!"

"Hey! Get back here! I haven't had a chance to throw one of these big cans yet!" Nicky took off in hot pursuit with a large can of tomato juice in her hands.

Now that everyone was suitably distracted, I went back to my original seat. I tossed a can of Pringles to Hank, who caught it with a nod of thanks. I opened one for myself as I leaned back to watch the spectacle.

As I ate the first chip, Chloe came over and sat beside me. Much to my surprise, she was well within reach. I offered her a chip, which she greedily ate in two bites. I dug around in my backpack for the dog treats near the bottom and handed her one to chew on.

Running footsteps echoed around the store as Ben raced down one aisle and up another. Nicky backtracked and managed to cut him off at the next aisle. She threw her can, which Ben managed to dodge. It hit the metal rack of books, sending a few tumbling to the floor.

"Shit! I missed! Get back here! I obviously need more practice!"

Not really expecting a reply from the silent man, I idly commented, "She really is a loose cannon, isn't she?"

Hank's deep amused chuckle told me that this wasn't exactly a new situation. Ben managed to lock himself in the janitor's closet while Nicky turned the can into a mini battering ram. I had no idea why Ben let Nicky chase him around instead of throwing her outside like most less-tolerant people would have done. Maybe he just wanted some exercise and a distraction.

"Open up the door! I can't throw shit at you if you're hiding in there!"

"That's the point!"

Movement along the highway made me call out in a low voice, "Nicky, there's a zombie on the street. Please keep the noise down while you kill him. We don't want to attract too much attention."

"Will do."

The loud banging was replaced by quieter noises as Nicky tried to force the doorknob open while attempting to convince Ben to show himself. Marissa and Tom were sure taking their sweet time in the bathrooms. Perhaps they were waiting for Nicky's rampage to come to an end. If airborne sunglasses had bothered them, then flying cans of tomato juice would be an entirely new threat.

Keeping my voice low, I murmured to Hank, "Should we remind her that I have a crowbar?"

He shook his head in amusement. "Nah, that'd damage the door, and it gives us somewhere safe if she gets grumpy."

The very fact that he finally spoke made me glance at him. I nodded and ate another Pringle. On the other side of the store, Nicky continued to complain about the door lacking a lock to pick and Ben not being brave enough to be her new target. Having him forced into hiding put me in a better mood.

Nicky eventually gave up and came over to claim the chips I had left on the shelf for her. She sat on the floor a few feet away from me.

As she opened the bag, she turned to me with curious eyes. "So, where did you learn to lure zombies away like that?"

I shrugged. "I watched another group of people do it."

"Any tricks for a Runner?"

"Have really good aim and throw a crowbar. A solid hit to the head can do enough damage to knock them out. In a tight spot, a glass of bleach in the face gives you a few seconds."

She mumbled, "I'll have to remember that one. I was wondering why you were carrying a crowbar."

I didn't bother answering and merely gazed out the door as another zombie staggered down the road.