Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 406: New Rules

Chapter 406: New Rules

I have been learning a lot about myself ever since I left Père’s house. Seriously, I have been really impressed with each step forward that I never thought I would be able to take. I have learned what I am... and I have learned what I am not.

I am not a patient person.

"Are we there yet?" I whined, wrapping my arms around Tank’s neck as he held me in his arms. We had been standing in line outside the Sanctuary for what felt like years. Unfortunately for me, Tank has assured me that it has only been ten minutes.

"Not yet," chuckled Tank, not at all put out about my reaction and lack of patience. "But we should be able to get in before sunset."

Seeing as it was barely noon, I was damn well hoping that we would be inside in the next eight hours. If not... I was going to write a strongly word letter to the person in charge.

If I could write.

Shaking my head, I decided to get Tank to write the letter. Yeah, that would work much better.

Letting out a huff, I rested my head against Tank’s and took a lollypop out of my space. "I’m bored," I continued. I knew that Tank couldn’t do anything about it, and I wasn’t really complaining... but I enjoyed acting spoiled every so often.

Mostly because I could, and the guys were willing to put up with me.

"Can’t you get your bitch to shut the fuck up?" snarled the man in front of us. His face was bright red as spit flew from his mouth with every word he spoke. "I am sick and tired of listening to her. I wish to fucking god that I didn’t have to hear her voice. Either make her be quiet, or I will."

I blinked rapidly, my brain slowing down the conversation so that I could process it. And when I did? I smiled brightly.

"You have it wrong," said Tank with a smile. "She’s not my bitch."

"I don’t care whose fucking bitch she is. Either shut her up, or I’ll give her mouth something better to do," snarled the man. Stepping toward Tank, I couldn’t help but laugh as his belly shook like a bowl full of jelly.

Every so gently, Tank put me on the ground. Fussing over me for a second, he made sure that my dress was perfect and I was balanced before spinning around and planting his fist in the man’s mouth.

The strike was absolutely perfect, not to mention so smooth and quick that it actually took the people around us a few minutes to realize what had even happened.

"No fighting in line!" yelled out one man as more than a few women screamed out loud as the man with the big mouth spat a handful of teeth onto the ground.

Blood poured from his mouth as he lifted his head and glared at Tank. "You can’t hit people. Not here."

"Sorry," shrugged Tank as he slid in front of me. "Reflex. Has anyone told you that your breath smells like shit? It might be better if you keep it shut from now on."

"What?" demanded the man, stepping forward again. "What the fuck did you say?"

Tank raised an eyebrow even as he looked at his knuckles. He must have caught a tooth or something, because the top of one of his knuckles was bleeding just a bit.

"I said to fuck off and shut up," sighed Tank. Pulling out an actual cloth handkerchief, he proceeded to wipe his hands. "But if you don’t understand human speech, I’ll be more than happy to hit you again."

"Are you fucking joking with me?" growled the man, looking around at everyone else. "Do you think this is funny? You run your mouth, but you aren’t saying anything."

Tank’s eyes widened even as I lost the battle with my smirk.

"What are you saying?" demanded one of the onlookers. Apparently, without television dramas, people needed to get their entertainment in a more direct way. We were surrounded by people on all sides, their eyes bright with happiness. "He’s cussin’ you out."

"Oh, what?" snarled the man, pushing the outsider in the chest. "You in on his prank? Are you all working together? Don’t just move your fucking lips. If you have something to say, man up and say it."

Tank looked at me from over his shoulder, and I wasn’t able to hide my smile in time. "Do you have something to do with this?" he asked, his voice soft. He wasn’t scolding me or upset in any way; he just wanted to know.

"He made a wish," I answered with a wrinkle of my nose. "He wished that he couldn’t hear my voice."

My eyes wide, I blinked at Tank. "Good girls grant wishes," I nodded sagely.

"You’re right," replied my man as he continued to stand as a wall between me and the man who had yet to realize that he had gone deaf. Poor soul, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer man.

"What is going on here?" demanded a security guard as a group of them rushed over to us. "Any fighting is an automatic refusal of entry. I am going to have to ask everyone to leave. You will also be prevented from entering the Sanctuary for five years."

I raised my eyebrow at the guard’s statement. That didn’t seem like a nice thing to do, and that definitely wasn’t a rule the last time I was in line.

"Excuse me, Sir," I whispered, stepping around Tank and sliding my hands over my dress. Dropping my head like I was shy, I looked up at the man in front of me. "We didn’t do anything, and there was no fighting. This man just suddenly went crazy, threw himself to the ground, and then started yelling that he was someone important. Please don’t make us leave. We really didn’t do anything wrong."

The onlookers, now realizing that they were going to get punished just like the cranky man, were quick to take my side.

"She’s right," agreed the man, stepping forward. "I think this man is crazy. Or maybe a new type of zombie? I don’t know. But he’s not normal."