Free The Girl's Guide to the Apocalypse by Daphne Lamb Page A

asked.
    “You broke your promise that you weren’t going to go out alone,” he said.
    “I never promised,” I said. “You made your statement, and I never gave you a yes or no.”
    “You can’t see this,” he said in the dark. “But I’m shaking a finger at you. Because what you’ve done is incredibly dangerous.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I went looking for drinkable water. And I found it.”
    “Really?” Bruce’s voice broke out. “Is it Fiji or Voss? It better not be that Aquafina crap. That stuff hurts my teeth.”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “When it’s offered, you don’t ask what’s on the label. And how does water hurt your teeth?”
    “Wait,” Robert said. “Who offered it to you?”
    “Why are we having this conversation in the dark?” I asked. “Can’t we at least sit in the living room or wait until morning?”
    “Fine,” Robert said. “But as your employer—”
    “Nope.” I shook my head. “If Mitchellwide doesn’t exist, then I am not your employee.”
    “To keep you safe in all lands,” he said. “You can trust Mitchellwide hands. That’s just an ideal philosophy you should still be following!”
    “Now is not the time to quote the company ad logo!” I said. “I did data entry and lied on my time card, so there’s no point in waving the corporate loyalty flag!”
    “That’s disappointing to hear.” He stood, tripped over the fallen bottle, but recovered. “Son of a bitch!”
    “Careful.”
    “God, I miss electricity,” he said.
    I set the rest of the things down. “I got a bag of chips,” I said. “The baked kind. Just for you.”
    Bruce sighed heavily. “Who? Me or Robert?”
    “You of course.”
    “It’s late,” he said. “The last thing I wanted to do tonight was wait up, hoping you’d come back.” He stood, also tripped on the bottle. “Oh come on!”
    His silhouette gained balance back by steadying himself on the doorway.
    “Damn it,” he muttered, then disappeared into the living room. I listened to him fall into the makeshift bed. “Are you coming to bed or not?” he shouted.
    I didn’t answer. I sat in the chair and rested my head on the table.
    * * *
    In the morning I woke up to find Debra face down in a bag of pretzels that I had snagged from the RV community.
    “Did I fall asleep here?” I asked.
    She lifted her head and stared at me hard. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pair of shoes, would you?”
    I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t,” I said. “I wish I did.”
    She narrowed her eyes, but then sighed. “My feet are killing me. I don’t think I can go another day in those shoes.” Her voice became shaky as the tears welled up. “These were my favorites, but they’re killing my feet.”
    “Maybe we can find some shoes somewhere.” I reached for the bag. “May I?”
    She held the bag just out of my reach. “I’m used to being hungry, but I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
    I held out my palm. “Can I have one?”
    “Sorry,” she said. “I just ate this whole bag.”
    “But I got them for us,” I said weakly.
    “Next time get two.”
    She stood, taking a long swig of water from the bottle. Robert entered.
    “I hope you’ve thought long and hard about why you weren’t in bed,” he said to Debra sternly.
    I snapped to. “That’s what she said!” I shouted. “That’s what she said!” I relaxed. “God that felt good to say.”
    Debra raised her eyebrows at me. “Who’s she?”
    I looked at Robert, but he stared at me with the same blank expression. “You guys have heard that joke, right? You hear something that could be vaguely sexual and say. ‘That’s what she said.’”
    They were staring at me, and I felt both awkward in their judgment and thankful I had never pursued that career in standup comedy.
    “Neither of you have heard that expression?” I asked.
    They continued to stare at me in stony silence.
    “You know that joke kills with the marketing department.”
    Debra