Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) Lisa Acerbo (debian ebook reader .TXT) 📖

No indication of life or Streakers crept out of the shadows.

Looking through the broken window at the empty shelves, Jenna was quite sure other survivors had ransacked the place numerous times.

After the initial outbreak, looting became common. When things spiraled out of control, people did unmentionable acts to stay alive. She considered herself one of the lucky ones, even if the slithering scars across her stomach said otherwise.

Emma nudged her forward.

They approached the open door.

The interior had fallen into an expected state of disrepair. And the sign hung crookedly—graffiti decorated the walls. Broken glass, plastic gloves, a face shield, a human bone, and the remains of mildewed, blighted boxes lay next to overturned shopping carts.

“Emma and I will go first.” Jackie took charge. “I need some goodies to make you all a good dinner tonight. The cupboard is bare, so to speak.”

Quentin rubbed his stomach. “What I wouldn’t do for another round of the empanadas, rice, and beans you made.”

“That was months ago.” Jackie shook her head, but a smile lit her face.

“I will never forget them.” Quentin brightened at the memory. “That’s how we should eat all the time.”

Jackie stared up at him. “Maybe once settled at the inn, we can find all the ingredients, and I will make it for you again. Sound like a plan, el compadre?”

He held out a pinky. “Promise?”

“Swear.” She hooked their fingers together.

“Let’s get going.” Billy shuffled his feet at the waiting.

“Are we ready?” asked Emma. “Billy, you’re in the middle where it’s safer. Quentin and Jenna, bring up the rear.”

Nodding in agreement, Jenna and the small band entered the ravaged interior.

Without electricity, flashlights sprayed little enough light to catch what was inside, dead or alive.

5

Remnants of toppled cash registers, broken carts, cardboard boxes, and plastic bags littered the floor.

“Paper or plastic,” Quentin kicked a white bag. It flew across the room like a specter.

Brazen vermin squealed and scurried in front of Jenna’s feet. Most of the shelves were not only empty but badly deteriorated. Still, Emma and Jackie were able to gather a few cans that had hidden in dark corners or under filth.

She stepped over a long-dried puddle. It was hard and black.

“Clean up in isle four.” Quentin’s voice rang out behind her.

They wandered through the maze of aisles—skirting empty. molding containers, broken shelving, and avoiding the darkest of places.

A noise caught her attention and that of the group, signaling for everyone to stop.

Jackie motioned for Jenna and Quentin to fan out. Quentin gave her a thumbs-up before he prowled ahead. A broken sign dangled. The words cereal and bread still attached by thin chains.

Quentin pulled out a wallet and handed Billy a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Go crazy. Buy whatever you need.”

“Gee, thanks.” Billy took the money, but a moment later let it slip through his fingers. It sailed to the floor, landing gently.

They could be dead soon. Why had she never tried to get to know Quentin? Everyone loved him and his off-beat sense of humor. Something she didn’t understand and shied away from.

He’d been part of the group for more than two months. One of the last human survivors she and the rest of them had run across. It was their first scavenging party together.

Always friendly since day one.

Did his antics make her feel protected? She couldn’t remember how that worked. Why had she remained aloof?

“Attention shoppers.” His hands cupped his mouth, so the words echoed in the emptiness. “Today’s specials include dented cans of long-expired veggies. Don’t forget those condiments. A bottle of ketchup can spice up any type of zombie brains.”

“We don’t eat zombie brains,” Jenna blurted.

He smiled at her. “I know.”

Exactly the reason staying quiet is best.

She studied him. He stood at least five inches taller than Jenna, and when he turned back, hoisted his bat, and winked at her, the tight, long-sleeved T-shirt highlighted muscled arms. Tousled brown hair fell into his blue eyes. She’d seen it all before, but it was as if today she took it in and etched his features in her mind.

He waved her forward and she joined him.

“The town’s been quiet since you and Caleb vanquished the last batch of Streakers.” Mice, frightened of his voice, surged forward, leaping over Quentin’s steel-toed boots. “Free of the undead types and humans.”

Jenna jumped back before huffing out a breath. “Yup.”

So much for practicing those social skills.

“Looters cleaned this place out long ago.” He ran a long, straight index finger along a shelf, picking up a layer of dust mixed with animal hair. “Nothing’s here but the stench.”

“And the rodents.” Jenna pointed to the boots the vermin had just run over.

“Those too.” He held her gaze.

“We should have searched houses. You know how people stockpiled at the end.”

“Staking out each house, ensuring there are no Streakers, and then searching takes so much longer. Grocery stores are a one and done deal.”

“Does it make sense to split up?” Emma peeked around a corner.

“It will make the search go faster. I doubt we’ll find much in here.” Jackie smoothed a lock of hair behind an ear.

“Not too far apart.” Emma headed away from the group and Jenna. “We can see each other from the ends of the rows. Let’s stay in sight when possible.”

“Come on.” Emma grabbed Billy and followed Jackie. “You two take the rows at the other end of the store. We can meet in the middle. Yell if you need us.”

Quentin bumped shoulders with Jenna. “Partner.”

She ignored him. He repeated the contact. This time more forcefully.

“Stop.” The growl emerged from deep in her throat. She strode away until she found an interesting store aisle and then meandered through it; Quentin followed a few steps behind.

His breath hit the back of her neck and she stopped short. “Do I need to yell over to Jackie for a rescue, or are you going to behave? I like my personal space.”

What does he mean by all the close contact?

Quentin didn’t take the prior hint and started a drumbeat on the back of