ZA16 - Shut the Fuck Up

Cam proceeded slowly through the deserted streets of Once-Denver, his knife held at the ready in a white-knuckled fist. The Cleaning Lady was strapped to his back, dry as a bone, beautiful as the husk of a scorched wedding bouquet. He had to admit, there were a few advantages to his knife. Well, one. It never needed reloading.

"So what happened to your squadron?" Lucy asked.
He ignored her.
"Did they all die or did you go off on your own?"
He ignored her.
"How many zombies do you think you've killed?"
He tried to remember, couldn't, then remembered to ignore her.
"Can you even remember?"
He gritted his teeth.
"Okay, so maybe you can't remember how many in your life, but what about how many this week?"
He TRIED to ignore her.
"How far ahead do you thnk the next gas station is?"
"Shut up!" Cam said, flecks of spit flying from his lips to land on her mary janes.

She made a face at him, which he did not see. He was too busy focusing on what might be around the corner of the building that had once been a bank, before the rising of demonic forces had ended ninety-nine percent of all life on earth and rendered capitalism obsolete. Lucy put her hand carefully on his bandaged bicep and peeked around the bulge. His muscle twitched under her touch, and he jerked her off.

"I don't see anything," she said.
"If you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to carve your larynx out of your throat," he told her.
"Pshah," she said. "Like the Five Romantic Chemical Lords would allow that!"

If the ministers of Hell had conjured a demon designed specifically to torment him with her tasty hot bod, minty-fresh breath, endless yapping, and possible affiliations with the underworld, she would be it. He felt like he was being herded. He was sure she would have zombies or some other goddamn Hell-borne thing waiting for him around every corner and with every step he was just playing into her hands.

What other Hell-borne thing? Who knew. This little bitch could have vampires, werewolves, or who knew what other goddamn necromantic scum hidden up that tease of a skirt.

"Want me to go first?" she asked.

He should just kill her.

He sighed. "No," he growled. "No, you do not get to go first. How many times have we been over this? You do not go first. I go first. You follow. Now shut the fuck up."
"I'm just saying, I mean, you seem a little keyed up, and we've only made it, like two blocks in the past half hour. So if you want me to go first-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Cam yelled. His voice bounced off the buildings, echoed in the empty alleys.
Lucy gaped at him, then a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. "Geez, Cam, now that's what I'm talkin' about!" she said. Then she strode out into the middle of the street, her hips swinging and gum popping, heading north. Or south. Or . . . well, Cam wasn't really sure what direction she was going, but judging by the prime view of her barely-skirted ass he was getting, she was headed away from him.

"Hey! Dammit Doublemint! What did I tell you about going first?"
"I'm tired of waiting for you," she said, and kept on walking. She sang. Loudly. Just to piss him off. Cam's rippling bicep reached for The Cleaning Lady, only to jerk to a halt, remembering his real Lady was dead. For now. Leaving him with this gum-popping zombie-loving bimbo.

"Teenagers scare the living shit outta me!
They could care less as long as someone'll bleed!
So darken your clothes
And strike a violent pose
Maybe they'll leave you alone
But not me!"

"You know what, Cam?" she called. Cam didn't even want to know, but she didn't wait for an answer. "I think it's good we came together." She giggled. He grimaced. "We should really join forces! With your fire and my power, we could make some real sparks!" She stopped. She turned. She put her hands on her hips and popped her gum. "Whatddaya think, Sparky?"

"I think . . . Shut the fuck up!" Cam said. Screw thinking.

"Uh-huh. By the way, there's a gas station right over there."

He hated it that she'd seen it before him. Being the keeper of The Cleaning Lady had always meant that Cam had petroleum radar. This little skank was messing with his petroleum radar. She had to be from Hell. He should quell her.

Fuck caution. It wasn't like he couldn't deal with any shit Doublemint could deal out, with or without his Lady. However, it would be hella sweet to let his real Lady devour this babysitter whole.

They went to the gas station. He went first. He didn't even look to see if she followed. She did though. Jesus fuckin' Christ this little bitch was like a dog yapping at his heels.

"What are your plans, Cam? Really, have you thought anything through at all?"

"I'm going to refuel the Lady," he said, as he began refuelling the Lady.

"And then?"

"I'm going to quell you."

"Hm. Could be fun. But how 'bout this? You come with me. I know Selig Retsuc's grand plan. We find him. We stop him from regaining access to the source of his power -- it may look tiny, but he knows how to use it, trust me. We save the fucking world."

Cam didn't even consider. Barbie here was full of shit. He closed the Lady, hefted her sweet, smooth curves lovingly in his calloused hands, and aimed for Barbie.

"Or, you could just torch me," she said. "If you think that's going to be new and fun for me, though, you've got another thing coming." She turned and began walking away, then tossed a look over her shoulder. "Your call, Sparky," she said, and continued going first.