Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) by Lisa Acerbo (the best e book reader txt) 📗

returned them. Medication of any kind was running low. Jenna was also frustrated at her stupidity, heading out unarmed like the world had reverted to pre-plague.

No medication for the undeserving. Should have been smarter. They both should have thought the horseback riding through a little more before heading into the woods.

She searched for Quentin. If the horses returned, he promised to care for them, and she wanted an update.

Not here yet.

Fluff escaped from a hole in the couch. She picked at it. Even after cleaning the inn, the furniture remained in various states of disarray. Mice burrowed into the fabric of the couches, leaving holes where white tufts of material emerged like cotton balls. Chairs, while still comfortable, lacked matching cushions or had the frames repaired with odd pieces of scavenged wood.

The group was now clean and well fed. Routine and regular meals made a big difference.

Would it relax attitudes also? Would the group be mad at them for riding the horses?

Quentin arrived and sunk onto the couch next to her. “You okay? How’s the head?”

“I’ll heal. Horses?”

“Back in the barn.”

“Thank the gods.”

“They were both fine,”

“I’m worried about this meeting. I hope we didn’t piss too many people off.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t stress.”

“Aren’t you just the optimist?”

“Always. Especially about beautiful women falling for my charm and good looks.”

She was glad Peter called the group to order but not so happy when he pointed at her. As was his norm, a sullen frown sat in waiting. “Why don’t you explain what happened today.”

She began to speak, almost blurting out “Yes, Godfather” at the older New Racer whose slicked-back, oiled hair and intense brown eyes reminded her of Al Pacino.

Jenna’s gaze focused on the least judgmental of the group, Josh and Kyle. The two youngest boys were eight and ten years old and arrived in tow with Ford and Beth. Looking at the foursome who sat wedged together on a couch with the boys at their feet, she was envious. In post-apocalyptic turmoil, Ford and Beth still had each other, family, and love.

“We were overly comfortable.” She cleared her throat. “It was stupid we didn’t bring a gun out on the trails. But it’s been so quiet. There hasn’t been a Streaker close since the fences went up. The horses appeared yesterday in good shape, obviously ridden, and cared for prior, and we wanted to try them out. It was the easiest way to find out what they’d been trained to do and how we might be able to use them at the inn.”

Quentin placed a hand on Jenna’s knee. “The attack was unexpected. Lucky it was only one Streaker. The horses spooked and bolted, leaving us on the ground and defenseless. The horses came back so they must consider this home. Maybe someone else from around here owned them or someone stayed here before we arrived.”

Jenna comforted herself by covering Quentin’s hand with hers. “There’s no way to tell how the Streaker got in, where it came from, or if there are more.”

All eyes on her, she scanned the room, noting how intently Caleb watched.

“We went out after the attack and searched the area,” Gus said. “If there are more undead, they didn’t show themselves. We still need to review the perimeter of the entire property to make sure no fences are down, which is the most likely scenario. A tree fell or a deer dismantled a portion of the fence. We’ll go out again first thing in the morning.”

Everyone needs to be extremely cautious tomorrow when patrolling the perimeter. We can’t afford more injured,” Peter said.

“I’m not injured. A bump of the head.” Jenna glanced to the side. “There’s not much more to tell. We destroyed the Streaker and walked back. A regular day in the zombie uprising.”

“I should have been smarter,” Quentin said. “I’m sorry I got you into the mess.”

She blushed.

Caleb shot daggers at the two of them.

What was his problem? He ignored her for weeks, and now he was acting like he wanted her dead.

“It could have been worse,” Emma added. “Be happy you both made it back safe and relatively intact.”

George stood, sleeveless T-shirt creased with oil and dirt, shadow of a beard on his weak chin, in contrast to his stern posture. Long, slicked back brown hair hung limp against his neck. A film a sweat covered his brow.

Like a preacher at the pulpit, he spat sermon. “If there is one, there’s got to be more. The Streakers probably followed the horses in. We don’t want no more people acting stupid and heading outside without guns or weapons. We need to get back into military mode. As I’ve been telling the group since we got here, our lazy ways are going to get us killed. It’s a new world and if we don’t want to be extinct, we had better be ready to fight and kill, and kill, and kill some more.” He stared at Jenna with a greasy-faced glare. “Fuck your girly-girly ways.”

She returned the stare.

“Be careful what you say, George.” Beth reprimanded.

“We’ve all got comfortable.” Billy had grown an inch, blond hair sculpted in spikes like Quentin, who he emulated. “It’s been so peaceful. I go swimming in the lake every day and never bring a gun with me. It’s the only place I find solace.”

It rang true. She braided the ends of her hair to keep her hands busy. Billy had not only grown comfortable but had grown up. Not recovered but mending. At least heading in the right direction.

“We shouldn’t have done it.” She’d admit her mistake. “It was bad planning to venture into the woods without weapons. I’m sure Quentin would agree. We’re both sorry.”

Aiko’s cat-like eyes blazed. The pout on her full red lips contrasted with her sumptuous, long black hair, straight and shiny, looking styled without the aid of hair products and a straightener. “It’s obvious we need to be more careful. From now on, no one goes outside without some type of protection. It would