Page 35 of Romancing in Rot

Clair blinks. “Concerning response, but thank you.”

Joanie appears around the side of Bessy. “Clair got a hatchet?” She points at me. “Why does Clair get a hatchet?”

I lift one shoulder.

Joanie scoffs. “Favoritism.”

Jacob looks from Clair, to the weapons, to me. His eyebrows rise. “You two had an eventful walk?”

Clair wipes at something dark on her sleeve. It does not help. “Educational.”

Trish steps closer, eyes narrowing as she checks Clair for injuries. “Why are you covered in brains?”

“Also educational.”

Lyla, who has been counting magazines on the hood of Lucy, looks up with a flat expression. “Please tell me the education involved not wasting all our ammo.”

I hold up my bow.

Clair lifts the crowbar and hatchet.

Barbara moves to my side, her hand brushing my arm before she looks at Clair and Poppy. “Everything clear?”

I nod, then gesture toward town.

Clair translates before anyone asks. “We cleared the ones closest to the road back. There were more in town, but they weren’t grouped up yet.”

“Yet,” Jacob repeats.

Lyla looks toward the road, then back to the small pile of magazines, loose rounds, and whatever ammunition everyone has left. “Ammo check.”

No one argues.

That is never a good sign.

Jacob grimaces. “I’m lower than I want to be.”

“Same,” Barbara says.

Joanie checks her gun and makes a face. “I have four bullets and a personality.”

“Save both,” Trish says.

Earl lifts a tire iron from beside the camper. “I’ve got this.”

Jacob looks at him. “Comforting.”

Lyla’s expression tightens as she sorts through the pile. “We need more before we get any closer to Chicago.”

The name settles over camp.

Chicago.

Bigger streets. Bigger buildings. More bodies. More corners where death can wait.

And maybe Russ.

The city isn’t just a city to her.