Billy Jean was fit to be tied.

  She was right there, front and center, yet this mutant had the nerve to ignore her and go after the guy she cared about.

  She cranked up her zombie mojo, letting out a wave of that hierarchical pressure, and Gaby stumbled back a few steps.

  “Roar... Scram if you don't wanna bite the dust."

  “Roar... You, as a mutant, hanging out with these lowly humans? What a disgrace."

  Gaby had clearly settled into his new mutant skin.

  In his book, humans were nothing but walking Happy Meals.

  “Roar... Like I'd ditch a hunk and pal around with you, you repulsive creep? You've gotta be kidding."

  Billy Jean shot him a look that could cut glass.

  Gaby's fuse blew in a split second. His mouth stretched wide open, like a bear trap, and he lunged at Billy Jean.

  “I've got this.”

  Michael Joke stepped in front of Billy Jean and whipped out his lightning whip.

  “Snap...”

  The whip cracked across Gaby's chin, and his gaping maw snapped shut, tilting skyward.

  Then he vaulted onto their military vehicle.

  Just as he landed, Ivan, who was like a ghost with that teleportation trick, kicked him off the roof.

  Gaby hit the dirt face-first, and a couple of his big yellow choppers went flying.

  At that moment, Billy Jean strutted over and ground that fallen cigarette into the dirt right under his nose.

  Her attitude?

  Pure sass.

  Gaby's bloodshot eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

  For Gaby, cigarettes were his oxygen.

  He let out a roar that shook the ground and charged at Billy Jean.

  Ivan blipped out of sight and reappeared on Gaby's back, stomping him into the ground like he was a bug.

  The next second, a super-thin wire zapped into Gaby's noggin and yanked out a crystal core.

  Gaby went limp as a rag-doll.

  “Ugh! He's still as ugly as sin, even dead. What a blot on the zombie beauty pageant.”

  Billy Jean said, wrinkling her nose.

  Michael Joke and Ivan:

  They'd yet to see a good-looking zombie besides her.

  “Is the tire patched up? Let's hustle and hit the road. Otherwise, we'll be driving in the dark before we reach the next city.”Michael Joke said.

  “I've still got some loose ends to tie up. I'm sitting this one out. You two go on.”

  Ivan dropped a bombshell.

  Michael Joke did a double-take, then a sly grin spread across his face.

  Finally, he's taking a hike.

  Smart move.

  Billy Jean's brow furrowed, and her eyes clouded over a bit.

  “Ivan, it's been years. You can't keep running from your demons.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Ivan was quiet for a spell and locked eyes with Billy Jean.

  “Billy, gimme a little more time.”

  "..." Billy Jean respected his call.

  “Take care.”

  Ivan flashed a smile and ruffled Billy Jean's hair.

  “Yeah, you too. Catch you on the flip side.”

  He caught sight of Michael Joke's stormy expression and thought better of pushing his luck.

  This young pup packed a meaner punch than he did back in the day.

  “Kid, if I catch wind that you're not treating Billy Jean right, I'll swoop in and take her back.”

  “You won't get the chance. Beat it.”

  Michael Joke said, cold as ice.

  Seeing how protective he was of Billy Jean, Ivan chuckled.

  “Later.”

  He waved and sauntered off.

  Watching Ivan vanish into the distance, Michael Joke felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and let out a long, relieved sigh.

  Michael Joke, just own it.

  You're spooked. You're scared he'll steal Billy Jean away like he did way back when.

  Looking at Billy Jean, still by his side, Michael Joke was on cloud nine.

  He emptied his space ring of all the blood bags and dumped them in Billy Jean's lap.

  “All yours.”

  Billy Jean was gobsmacked, juggling at least forty or fifty blood bags.

  She had three bags tucked under her chin, two stuffed in her mouth, and one perched on her head.

  She was drowning in a sea of blood bags.

  What in tarnation was wrong with Michael Joke?

  Why was he suddenly playing Santa Claus?

  “La la la...”

  Michael Joke rolled up his sleeves and got to work on the tire, even humming a tune.

  Billy Jean's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  It was so darn strange.

  Bizarre, even.

  Damn it!!

  Had Michael Joke been body-snatched by an alien?

  Half an hour later, the tire was as good as new, the headlights were shining bright, and the car roared back to life.

  Billy Jean was riding shotgun, a blood bag clamped between her teeth.

  She told Michael Joke to stash the rest back in his space.

  She couldn't chug that many at once.

  If they were left out in the open, they'd go bad faster than you could say "spoiled milk."

  If they were in the space, they'd stay fresh as a daisy.

  She could grab one whenever she had a hankering.

  “Are we hopping on the highway?”

  Billy Jean mumbled around the blood bag.

  “It's the apocalypse, remember? Roads are clogged with abandoned cars like a junkyard. We'll just take whichever way is clear. No set route. Long as we end up in Sea-city.”

  “Oh.”

  Billy Jean gazed out at the tall buildings.

  This was the city she'd called home for over twenty years.

  Now that she was leaving, she felt a twinge in her heart.

  “If you've got a soft spot for it, we can always swing back and set up shop here later.”

  Michael Joke saw the wistful look in her eyes.

  “Who's ‘we’? Take a hike.”

  “Like old times, I'll handle all the chores, whip up some grub, and scrub the dishes.”

  “Scram.”

  “Plus, I'll keep your bed warm.”

  “Beat it.”

  “Blood on tap whenever you want.”

  “...” Billy Jean almost blurted out “Scram” again.

  Well... this “blood on tap whenever you want” was music to her ears.

  “...”

  Michael Joke didn't know whether to laugh that his blood was her catnip or to cry that only his blood was her catnip.

  At the beat-up exit of Ri-city, a military vehicle zipped by, and a couple of staff zombies in neon green vests chased after it like their lives depended on it.

  Billy Jean stuck her head out the window, her eyes a bit misty, and waved.

  “Roar... Don't go to all this trouble. Head back to work. I'll miss you."

  The zombies watched the car disappear into the distance, howling like banshees.

  “Roar... Starving, starving. Don't go. I want meat."

  “Roar... I'm famished. So hungry, so hungry."

  “Roar... Hungry, hungry, hungry"

  When Billy Jean couldn't see the zombies anymore, she slid back into her seat.

  She wiped away the phantom tears and said, her voice thick with emotion,

  “They still came to see me off. I'm touched. I swear I'll be a zombie to be reckoned with... no, a respected zombie.”

  Michael Joke:...

  After clearing the exit, they cruised smoothly for over an hour and then hit a wall of traffic.

  Ahead, abandoned vehicles were strewn everywhere like toys a kid had left out.

  Some cars were rusted to the bone, and some were so dusty you could write your name in it.

  Many car windows were shattered, door frames were hanging by a thread, and the seats were splattered with blood.

  There were also old human bones scattered on the ground.

  Not a single zombie in sight for now.

  This traffic jam stretched as far as the eye could see.

  It was at least a few kilometers long.

  “What do we do now?” Billy Jean asked.

  “Hop out.”

  Michael Joke said and was the first to bail.

  Billy Jean followed suit.

  With a flick of his wrist, Michael Joke stowed the military vehicle in his space and whipped out a pink scooter.

  The corner of Billy Jean's mouth twitched.

  “Don't tell me we're cruising on that?”

  “Unless you wanna hoof it?”

  “Uh...”

  Billy Jean didn't have a comeback.

  Michael Joke handed her a helmet, slipped one on himself, and straddled the scooter.

  With his tall, dark, and handsome frame, long legs that seemed to go on forever, and that air of nobility he couldn't shake, he looked like a fish out of water on the pink scooter.

  Michael Joke turned the key.

  “Beep... beep...”

  The scooter chirped twice.

  Billy Jean:...

  “Hop on. Let's roll.”

  Michael Joke said, sounding impatient.

  “Oh.”

  Billy Jean clambered on.

  “Wrap your arms around my waist. I'll get us airborne!”

  Michael Joke grabbed Billy Jean's hands and looped them around his waist.

  Not wanting to go tumbling off, Billy Jean did as she was told.

  Michael Joke grinned from ear to ear.

  “Let's hit the road.”

  “Beep... beep...”

  The scooter beeped twice more and then inched forward.

  Billy Jean stared at the scooter creeping along like a snail and was dumbfounded.

  This was his idea of “get us airborne”??