Zombie Wolf of Piston by T. S. Joyce

Author:T. S. Joyce [Joyce, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wicked Willow Press
Published: 2022-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

God bless the owner of this rental cabin for equipping it with a big Dutch oven.

With a wooden spoon, she stirred the squirrel stew, and shimmied her hips to the blaring music she was playing on her phone. Tonight’s playlist included old songs from her high school days, and she was on the best memory lane ever right now.

The ding of a text interrupted the song. Isa clacked the spoon twice on the side of the metal pot, and then set it on the spoon rest next to the stove.

She didn’t recognize the number. What are you doing?

Who is this? She responded, hope filling her chest.

Are you cooking the squirrels I gave to your wolf?

With a grin, Isa hopped up to sit on the counter and texted Reaper back. There’s extra if you want some. It’ll probably taste like dumpster juice because I haven’t cooked in a long time, and I’ve definitely never made squirrel stew. I think I put in too much salt. Send.

I love salt.

I can see your phone number. It doesn’t just say unknown number anymore. Does this mean we are friends now? Send.

I don’t have friends. Enjoy your stew.

Isa rolled her eyes at the shutdown. Okay. I’m saving your name as Stryker in my phone. Send.

My name is Reaper.

Gotta go stir my delicious stew, bye-bye now. Send.

There were a full three minutes before he responded, and when her phone dinged again, she gave a private smile.

What should I bring?

To dinner? Yourself. And a package of peanut M&M’s if you are going past a gas station. Send.

You can have a warm, unopened can of orange Fanta from the center console of my truck. I’m in the driveway.

Wait, what? She turned down the volume of her music, and yep, sure enough, there was the soft hum of an idling engine outside.

“Shhhhhiitake mushrooms!” she muttered, hopping off the counter.

Isa patted her hair, but it was up in a messy bun and there was no help for the rat’s nest up there. She straightened her sweatshirt, dusted off her leggings, and ran around the kitchen island to the pantry. No, she didn’t need anything out of the pantry. She should check her face in the bathroom mirror. No! Stir the stew! Wait, where were her shoes? Should she meet him outside? She needed lip gloss. But first she needed to stir the stew. Be cool.

A knock sounded at the door, and she yelped a startled sound. Isa jogged to the door and dug her lip gloss out of her purse, then speed-applied it in the mirror right by the door. There.

She turned and checked out her butt in her leggings. She did finger-guns at herself. “Nice.” She turned to open the door, and that was when she remembered there were two thin windows on either side of it, because Reaper was definitely offering her a concerned look through one of them.

Oh God. Plastering a bright smile on her face to hide her mortification, she pulled the door open and gestured grandly for him to enter.

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