To Be A Warrior

Chapter 18: The Jellicle Ball

And we're in enough of that with the V-Types.

We make it to the tattoo parlor, the rusted bell above the door jingling softly when we go inside. I look around at the chairs, the multiple pictures of people with their new tattoos on the wall. Some of them range from small enough to barely be noticed to covering a whole appendage.

I tried getting a tattoo once to cover up one of the scars that now has unsurprisingly healed over. I didn't know that would happen at the time, but there was a tattoo artist in New Canton who said he would see what he could do to cover up that scar I had on my side from falling off a platform after being attacked by a zombie lynx when we first met Veronica.

It was pretty. It was a very detailed rose. Too bad my skin literally broke the ink down and dissolved it within about four days. At least, I think it was four days, since by the time I took the bandages off it was already gone. Van Ark's treatments never surprise me with their amount of cons.

"The zoms are slipping on the greasy pavement, so it'll be awhile before they catch up. The Riders will probably get to them before they get to you, so you have a little more time," Jody says, although her voice still holds that tiny bit of urgency. "How's our intel? Anthin' in the tattoo parlor worth havin'?"

Steve huffs as he shakes his head. "Nothing so far. Ink, pictures of people's backs-wait." He rummages through one of the boxes behind the counter, then hoists it up onto the counter with a whistle of admiration.

"What is that?" I ask, walking over and running a finger around the rim of the metal box. It's been sitting here for a while, judging by the layer of dust that's now on my fingertip.

"Did you find somethin'? Anythin' they used to make that rave drug?" Jody asks hopefully, but again Steve shakes his head. This time, though, he wears a smile.

"Not quite, but it's good. Cache of JXQ-93 incendiary bombs. Weaker, but more stable than burn cubes."

"What's a burn cube?" I ask, and he looks at me funny.

"Didn't you spend most of your apocalypse time in America in a military base? I thought they taught you a lot."

"I know how to kill you with nothing but a toothpick and a shoelace," I reply with a sarcastic smile. "I wasn't a soldier, mind you. I was a runner. We were given different priorities. Also, if I messed up when firing a gun, I would only have to worry about one fatality. If I messed up in trying to build a bomb-"

"You would have killed everyone in your base." He nods understandingly. "Got it."

"While they never said, they did take in some consideration to the fact that I was only twelve. That's why they taught me how to use knives and guns."

He grimaces at how casually I say that. "Well, either way, a burn cube isn't something you'll probably ever see in your lifetime."

I suck in a sharp breath. He just jinxed me. I know he did.

"But help me load these into our packs."

I nod. As I put them into my backpack, Jody speaks.

"This is good news. Our intel might actually be solid. Pack up quickly."

"No problem," I say, zipping up my backpack a few seconds before Steve does the same. "Where to next?"

"You know, I doubted this one, but as we have found something good here, the nearest cache is a one-star rated B&B called The Hawk and Harridan. Did you know someone called 'I Still Have Standards' actually moved reviews from travel sites to Roufflenet?"

I laugh as we leave the parlor. "Really? You'd think people would move other things up there, like recipes or-or best canning methods so you don't end up killing yourself by ingesting bacteria."