Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 72: You Don’t Know Me

Chapter 72: You Don’t Know Me

Mathis, Tank, and I went upstairs, leaving the rest of the humans to clean up the mess. Between the zombies and the killer clowns, I was actually surprised that so many people had made it out alive.

Seriously, it just goes to show how good they were.

"Go sit down on the couch," murmured Mathis as he stroked my head. "I’ll figure out something to feed you."

I didn’t know how I felt about him touching my head like I was something precious after everything that just went down, but I wasn’t about to say anything out loud. Being petted was a lot better than being hit.

And technically... HE... wasn’t the one to throw me out at the creepy clowns.

"Is there anything you need?" I asked, cocking my head to the side as Tank slapped Mathis’ hand away. "I should have some supplies."

"I guess that would depend on what you wanted to eat. It needs to be something easy because we don’t have electricity here," shrugged Mathis. I could hear the sound of the cupboards opening and closing as Tank gently took my arm and led me to the couch.

"Pretty sure there is," I murmured, confused. ’Looking’ up at Tank, not bothering to use my actual sight, I tried to think back to his wishes. Working elevator... electricity, and running water.

Yeah, there shouldn’t be a problem making lunch right now.

Tank shrugged his shoulders as he pulled me down onto his lap and tucked a blanket around me. "My favorite gun and knife are gone," he stated as he fussed over the blanket. It was so soft that I could feel myself sinking into its warmth.

The fact that it smelled like Tank was just an added bonus.

"Did you lose them in the fight?" demanded Mathis, sounding more worried and upset than Tank did. "The men will find them if you did. They won’t be gone for long."

"Don’t care," continued Tank as he soothed out any wrinkles before getting comfortable. "It was a fair exchange."

"Fine," sighed Mathis, and I could hear the tiredness in his voice that he was trying to hide. "Be mysterious, but I know how much those two meant to you."

"Not more than electricity and running water," replied Tank. His fingers gently combed through my hair, untangling any knots that they came across before it hurt.

There was a long silence, and then I heard the sound of water running from the kitchen.

"Rice, andouille sausage, chicken, shrimp, and some chicken broth then," announced Mathis, clearing his throat. "I have the rest of the ingredients in the fridge."

Nodding my head, I opened my space and took out the requested items, putting them on the coffee table beside me.

"You are really helpful to have around, aren’t you?" chuckled Mathis as I heard him approaching and the crinkling of the packages of food.

Not bothering to hide my smile at his comment, I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. I had no idea why I was so tired lately, but it almost seemed like granting wishes was taking more energy out of me than I had.

Ah well, that was a problem for when I woke up.

-----

"You pointed a gun at Dante," murmured Bishop as he started to wash the rice. There were enough supplies to make a gumbo, and the peppers in the fridge needed to be eaten before they went bad anyway. "You know he isn’t going to forgive you easily."

"I’m sorry," grunted Tank, never taking his eyes off the woman lying on his lap. "But I don’t remember needing or asking for his forgiveness."

Bishop was silent as he took out a large pot and added equal parts butter and flour to start the roux. It would have to cook for a while to get the right color and taste before he continued with the rest of the dish.

"You’ve changed," sighed Mathis as he looked down into the pot as he stirred. This was not an easy conversation to have with a man he trusted so much. He had really thought that the seven of them would be together for the rest of their lives, dominating the underworld and protecting each other.

But that dream he had seemed to be unraveling under his very eyes. Even the other Guardians seemed to have drifted apart, rarely seeing each other unless Dante demanded their presence. The apocalypse had changed the world... and it had changed them, too.

Tank snorted at that statement and looked over at Bishop. "You say that like it’s a bad thing."

"Isn’t it?" demanded Bishop, turning around to look at Tank. "We made a vow. We swore an oath to put Dante above all others. To protect him and serve him to the best of our abilities... and you put a gun to his face."

The chuckle coming out of Tank’s mouth was enough to send shivers up and down Bishop’s spine. "Is that what you are upset about? That I put a gun to his face?" asked Tank. "And here was me thinking it was because you realized that I would have happily pulled the trigger without a second thought."

Bishop’s hand stopped stirring the roux as he watched the mixture start to bubble. "You wouldn’t have. The Victor that I know wouldn’t have the heart to kill his best friend... his savior."

"That’s the problem," agreed Tank, turning his attention to his little Lamb’s hair. "Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do."

-----

Dimitri looked at the zombie in front of him as it tried its best to reach him. His hand was wrapped firmly around the thing’s neck as it waved its hands between them, trying to tear him apart.

"I’s really thought dey’d be harder to kill," he pouted, his shoulder dropping a bit.

When shooting them became boring, he tried to come up with new ways of killing the stupid zombies.

But even ripping their heads off was becoming dull. He wanted a challenge. If he couldn’t be with his Kitten, then he needed something to occupy him until he could find her again.

"You’s know you’s be a freak, right?" sneered Ronan from where he stood, his arms crossed against his chest. The screams of the civilians as they fought the zombies rose around them as René bellowed out orders he expected to be obeyed. "Dey’s be havin’ troubles."