Garden of the Apocalypse

Yake briefly sensed the motel not far away.

"There are three zombies inside. They'd better be careful!"

Yake stretched lazily. The virus here had no effect on him whatsoever. This world was far too peaceful.

"How did you know?"

"I just know!"

"Alright, Carlos, L.J., stay alert. Our alien friend says there are three zombies in this motel. Be careful!"

Claire chose to trust Yake. No matter what, being cautious could never hurt.

"Roger!"

Carlos glanced at L.J., who raised the Golden Desert Eagle in his hand with a smile.

With Yake's warning, L.J. stayed on guard. Although a zombie still lunged right at his face, fortunately, he wasn't bitten. Otherwise, he would have dragged the team down again. In the apocalypse, the only thing scarier than zombies was useless teammates.

"Is this how you usually gather supplies?"

Yake ate watermelon with a spoon, reclining comfortably in a lounge chair beneath a parasol. Compared to these weather-beaten survivors, he looked like he was on vacation.

"Um... how do you have... fresh fruit?"

At the sight of the watermelon in Yake's hand, Claire's mouth watered wildly. Ever since this damned apocalypse began, she had no idea how long it had been since she last ate fresh fruit. But she was even more curious about where Yake had gotten it.

"Trade secret. No comment. If you want some, I can share..."

Yake looked at the watermelon, which still had more than half left, and hurriedly scooped up two more mouthfuls before handing it to Claire. He had none of his usual gentlemanly manners, more like an unromantic blockhead.

Claire couldn't care less. She grabbed the bright red flesh and savored it carefully, eventually gnawing away quite a bit of the rind as well.

"Sorry, I lost my composure. I just..."

Remembering how