Girls Save the World in This One - Ash Parsons Page 0,106
mic arm raised.
“June! It’s me!” Scott falls back against the open bathroom door with his hands up.
There’s not really a word for the stew of emotions that churns in my gut at the sight of him. Relief is in there, not just that he’s not a zombie, but also that he’s alive. By which I mean, I am glad he’s not dead or a zombie. I’m not a total hate-monster.
So, yes, there’s relief there. But also anger, annoyance, betrayal. The usual ingredients.
Plus a fun! Bonus! That feeling? The one where you want to curl up and die and never have anyone look at you again? That level of embarrassment so strong it’s practically visceral horror?
That’s there, too, when Blair steps forward.
“Scott!” She opens her arms to hug him.
I guess my shunning of him at the back of the podcast session a few hours ago (it feels like another life now, honestly) must have made some impression at least, because he glances at me uncomfortably while returning her hug with one arm.
“Where are the zombies?” Scott asks, stepping back from the hug and glancing past me. His eyes take in the others.
“They’re around,” I say, because who has time to get into it all, right now right here, when we have to figure out how to warn the military or police or whoever is outside readying to try to come in.
Scott looks around at the others, and his eyes lock on Hunter, Annie, Cuellar, and Simon.
“Hey, hello,” Scott says, and he nods at them in greeting.
“Everyone, this is Scott,” Blair says.
“Hello,” Janet says in her polite, sweet voice.
“I’m a big fan,” Scott says, ignoring Janet, just completely zeroed in on the other, bigger stars. “I run a little podcast, Wasteland Stans, maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Cuellar cuts him an expression that if voiced would say, “Kid, are you serious with this crap right now?”
“If . . . I mean . . . when we get out of here would you—”
“Sure, buddy, sure.” Simon smiles at Scott and lays a reassuring hand on Scott’s upper arm. His demeanor is like he’s a) used to pushy fans, b) in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and doesn’t have time for podcast hosts right now, and c) both a and b.
“One thing at a time, okay?” Simon says.
“We should keep moving,” Janet says.
“Do you have a weapon?” Annie asks Scott, and is it just me, or is she holding her defibrillator case proudly?
Scott nods and produces a pristine fountain pen.
I mean . . . sure.
“How did you end up in the bathroom?” Blair asks him.
“I was in the first-floor lobby when it started. I ran upstairs and tried to get to the hotel through the skyway, but it was locked, then I tried to get in with the preppers.”
Imani snorts, but it’s a supportive-of-Scott’s-plight comment on the preppers more than anything.
“They wouldn’t let me in, so I avoided some more zombies, mostly, and ran to the bathrooms. The door didn’t have a lock, but I was able to hide there until the zombies forgot me and wandered away.”
“Well, that’s lucky,” Simon says encouragingly. “You’re lucky you didn’t get trapped in there.”
“Yeah, I know,” Scott says. “I know I should have come out; the first time you walked by, I heard you. But I just . . .”
His eyes drop, his chin drops, his whole demeanor gets smaller.
“I was too scared.”
Annie steps forward, lifting a hand from her defibrillator case.
“It’s okay.” She places the hand on his shoulder like a parent talking to a child. “We all get scared.”
I wasn’t sure at first, but Annie Blaze is all right. She’s more than all right. She’s awesome. It doesn’t matter who she’s consoling, it doesn’t matter that it’s Scott, just her instinct to do it, when we’re all so stressed out, is amazing.