CH 21

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While the boys were out "shopping" for food, weapons, and supplies, I sat on the floor in the house, sharpening my knife.

"There can't be a medicine cure, or else it would already have been activated. And if there were, there's no way two teens and a captive alien could get their hands on it." I mumbled to myself occasionally, but none of my ideas made any sense.

"Maybe we could get Jesse onto the Pawn's ship, just before he goes zombie. Solktech said the feasters were the pawn's natural enemy. He could get rid of them, then Timmy and I can find a cure for him....no, he'll kill us too." I thought to myself, just before the boys came in.

"Ooh, goodies!" I held out my hands to take some of the burden they were carrying. "Whatdja get me?"

Jesse handed me a large, purple hiking backpack. A large hunting knife. A first aid kit. I handgun, complete with magazine and silencer. A clean set of toothbrush and toothpaste. Deodorant.

I held up the bottle of Suave Ocean Breeze. "What do you mean by this? I stink or something?"

"Frankly, Stasey, yes." He answered. "We both do." Upon noticing my glare, he added, "well, what would you expect a couple of zombie-alien-killing teens to smell like? Citrus?"

"Good point," I replied, lifting my arm and applying a bit more than nesessary, suddenly very grateful for my chance to shave aboard the alien mother ship.

"We need to move out tomorrow," Timmy said, packing a green backpack with items similar to mine. "The feasters are moving toward the area, and their presence will speed up Jesse's transformation."

I nodded, shoving my CD and book into the pouch on the front of the bag. They were all I had left of myself, and I didn't want to lose that. "Where will we go? Back to your alien friends?"

"We'll go wherever." He answered. "As long as you're safe."

I was struck with a thought. "Do your friends have any way to save him?"

He shook his head. "Not that I know of. He may not even be infected. The computers mess up sometimes."

"I hope so." I looked down at my bloodstained shirt. "I need a change of clothes. I'm gonna check out some of the houses around here and see if there's anything for me."

"I'll come with," Jesse said, patting his bare chest. "Looks like I can use some new threads."

Timmy's pawn-style olive green jumpsuit was unscathed and in pristine condition, so I didn't even ask for his company.

We swung open the door of the house, which hung by only one hinge, and turned the corner, where I saw an outlet store. Through the broken glass window I could see dusty dresses and jeans.

"Over there," I said pointing. "There's bound to be something there."

I tried the door, but it was locked, so I climbed through the front window, knocking down a pair of Nikes on display.

"Men's is over there," I said to Jesse as he climbed in behind me.

We separated and I went to the sleeveless shirt rack. I pulled out a fake leather zip-up with a gold lined collar. Practical, stylish, and comfortable in the Florida-summer heat. I peeled off my tank-top and threw it to the floor, replacing it with the leather.

"You know, you don't have to pretend everything's going to okay," Jesse said as I pulled on a new pair of skinny jeans. "I know they're not."

"Jesse," I said, adjusting my waistband, "we're going to figure something out. I won't let you go zombie."

"It's too late," he replied. "I can feel my insides changing. I have never been this hungry in my life. My hair..." He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled out a brown lock with ease.

"Jesse, it's only been a day. If Timmy's right, we have a month to figure things out. So calm down and live while you have the chance." I grabbed a t-shirt off the rack and threw it at him. "I think you could use some inspiration."

He looked at it, a solid black with neon pink "YOLO" letters across the front.

His laughter nearly brought tears to my eyes as I realized it was a sound I wouldn't hear next month.

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