Chapter 42: Teasing

Jack had shrunk into himself like a quail, not daring to meet Mitch’s murderous glare. After a long struggle, he forced out one sentence: "I... I’ll go block the road some more!"

He hoisted a rusty metal cabinet nearly half a man high and shot out of the warehouse as if his feet had been greased.

"Only he knows how to do useful things."

Mitch rubbed his thigh root and cursed through gritted teeth.

The sour, explosive tension in the cabin still hadn’t faded when May’s eyes lit up. She clapped her hands and stood.

"Stop sitting around looking depressed. We just took this department store and the supermarket downstairs still isn’t cleaned out. Let’s inventory the supplies—move everything useful up here so we don’t run out of food later."

The suggestion landed squarely with Ray.

He crushed the empty water bottle in his hand and tossed it into a corner. "Mitch, Alex—go search. Focus on usable medicine, high-calorie food, and anything that can burn."

Alex pushed himself up from the floor, dusted off his pant legs, and winked at May with a cheerful grin.

"Orders received. May, wait right here. I will find you the good stuff."

Not long after, Alex and Mitch returned, each carrying two large cardboard boxes, steps light and quick. Alex also held two dusty bottles of red wine, dark-red liquid swirling inside as he swung them.

"Found these under the supermarket counter. Bordeaux ’82—no idea if it’s real, but the packaging looks fancy."

He set the bottles down with a soft thud and raised an eyebrow. "Boss, how about we open a little end-of-the-world bar? We’ve cheated death several times already. Not drinking something to settle the nerves feels wrong."

Ray glanced at the wine, then at the still-red corners of May’s eyes. He pulled out a combat knife and popped the corks.

"Drink. Everyone gets a share."

The rich scent of wine mixed with the warehouse’s old musty smell. The atmosphere visibly loosened.

Wine was present. Food and drink scavenged from downstairs had been piled into a small mountain. Because the warehouse’s only side door was narrow, the supplies had to be carried in one person at a time.

Jack was hauling the largest carton of luncheon-meat cans when he got stuck in the doorframe.

With his build, he could normally charge through anything in an armored vehicle. Right now, trying to fit through a doorway looked like forcing an elephant into a refrigerator. The box was too wide; the frame clamped both sides tightly. He could neither push forward nor pull back.

"Jack, you okay? Stuck there for a reason?"

Mitch leaned against the wall, cracking sunflower seeds, openly enjoying the show.

"D-don’t rush."

Jack’s face turned crimson as he tried to shrink his shoulders. "The box is too wide."

May stood just inside the doorway, ready to receive supplies. Watching his clumsy struggle, she couldn’t hold back a soft laugh. She set her half-bottle of red wine aside and walked straight toward him.

"Jack, move a little. I’ll help push."

Her voice was soft and sweet, still carrying a faint residual sob that made it especially tempting.

She didn’t wait for him to react. She simply turned sideways and squeezed into the narrow gap between the doorframe and Jack’s body.

The space was tiny. The moment her chest pressed against his solid torso it felt like colliding with a heated iron wall. He wore a black T-shirt washed nearly white; the hard contours of muscle beneath the fabric rose and fell with every heavy breath, solid enough to bruise.

"May, don’t... don’t squeeze. I can’t get..."

His voice cracked on the last word. Every muscle in his body visibly locked tight.

"If we squeeze a little more, it’ll go in... I mean, out."

May pretended not to hear the tremor in his voice and pushed forward again.

They pressed even closer.

She could clearly feel every hair on his body standing on end. Hot air poured from the open collar of his shirt.

She had only intended to farm a few points. Instead her hand rose in the dark to steady the box—and completely missed. It landed squarely against a certain spot at the side of his waist.

Damn, he was blessed with this... thing in his pants. Big and hard. Hard and big...

She screamed internally while keeping a face of pure innocence on the outside. Not only did she not pull her hand back—she stared up at him with wide, watery eyes.

"Jack... what exactly are you carrying in your pocket? Don’t tell me it’s a weapon?"

Boom.

The last thread of reason in Jack’s head snapped clean. His face flushed from the base of his neck all the way to the crown of his head. Those enormous hands hovered uselessly in the air, wanting to push her away yet not daring to touch.

"N-no! I mean––yes!"

His voice cracked completely. "That... that’s... a gun! Yeah, the stock of a gun! Don’t touch it—it’ll go off!"

"Ohhh—"

May dragged the syllable out, fighting a smile. Her hand stayed exactly where it was as she pretended sudden realization.

"So it really is a gun. Jack, you take such good care of it."

Jack sucked in a sharp breath and nearly dropped to his knees on the spot. He jerked backward so hard the large cardboard box crashed to the floor with a loud bang. Several cans of luncheon meat rolled free.

"I... I’m going to stand watch outside!"

He covered himself with both hands, lowered his head, and slammed through the door, running with the panicked, uneven steps of someone on stilts.

May stood where she was, shook out her hand, and watched the man’s flustered retreat. Internally, she gave herself a solid thumbs-up.

I am evil. Teasing him like this feels wrong––he’s was too innocent.

She bent down, collected the scattered cans, and hummed a little tune as she walked back to the moisture-proof mat.

Ray sat cross-legged in the center, a glass of red wine in hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Jack’s fleeing figure, then glanced at May’s completely innocent smile. His brows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing—only the way he drank grew a fraction heavier.

In the apocalypse, food was scarce; no one wasted a single bite. The best place to store it was inside one’s own body, so the evening meal continued without further interruption.