Page 6 of On the Road

“Wait—all that’s just for you?”

He peered down at his bounty. “I’m hungry.”

“It’s just . . . it’s a lot.”

“Kitten, have you seen me? This body has a high aneurism.” He sauntered further down the aisle.

A what now? I kept up with him, and watched as he loaded more snacks into his arms. “Do you mean a high metabolism?”

“That’s what I said. Besides, sugar’s good for you. That’s why they put it in everything. Grab a coffee, I’ve seen dead folks look more awake than you.”

“Right.” I spied the coffee machine and ventured over, leaving Zee to stock up on snacks in all the colors of the additives rainbow. Grabbing a cup, I shoved it under the hot-water dispenser and jabbed at the black-coffee button, definitely needing it.

If we’d driven all night, then we might soon be far enough away to stop and figure out what to do next . . . because we couldn’t drive forever.

Zee’s raised voice tugged on my attention, splitting it between the coffee machine and whatever he was doing that had him drawing the other customers toward him. A glance over my shoulder found him taking a selfie with the dad from the SUV . . . Clearly a fan.

I returned my gaze to my cup and jabbed at the button to dispense coffee. A thick black gloop dribbled into my cup. Was coffee supposed to be syrupy? Were whiskey dispensers a thing? I looked around to find one, but instead spotted a woman waiting in line.

She didn’t seem like someone who demanded attention, like Zee. She was just a young woman in a short white jacket with sewn-on black stars and black leg-hugging pants. I didn’t know her, but something about her demeanor had my instincts twitching.

Instincts that had kept me alive before.

Hot water dashed my fingers. “Gah!” I yanked my hand away from the black-goop dispenser, shook off the water, and glanced over. She’d gone.

No, wait . . . there she was, heading for Zee, who was still taking photos and chatting with his fan.

Why would she be walking over there?

She reached into her jacket pocket.

Wait . . . what if . . . she was sent by my brother? What if she had a gun? What if she was a dragon too? I bolted, skidded around the end of the aisle and tackled the woman around the waist, sending us both plunging into a shelf of tinned goods. Soup rained, although a few loaves of bread cushioned our fall.

“Hey . . . what the heck?!” The woman shoved me back and clambered to her feet. “Are you crazy?”

Half a dozen faces stared until the store assistant helped me up.

Zee tilted his head. “What just happened?”

“Oh, I uh . . . I thought I saw a frog. It’s gone now.”

His eyes bulged and his tail contracted, looping around his leg. “There are frogs in here?”

“Yeah, it was real big.” I motioned with my hands, showing about a foot-long gap . . . which seemed realistic.

“Frogs?” the woman sneered. “There aren’t any⁠—”

“He just saved your life, lady.” Zee turned toward her, even as he reached for the pile of snacks he must have set down to take the photos.

“Okay, uh, so we should go, I guess.” I grabbed Zee’s arm and pulled him away from the chaos. “Uhm, sorry . . . about the mess.”

“My snacks?” Zee whined at their loss.

“We’ll grab some later.”

Outside, Victor waited by the minivan’s open door. He straightened at our sudden appearance. “Am I to assume your haste is not excitement to resume our impromptu adventure, but rather, an escape attempt?”

“Adam just saved them all from a giant frog. Ungrateful assholes.” Zee poofed into the back of the van. “Vic, you take the front, imma stretch my best bits back here.” His wings poofed out, painting the inside of the windows and the roof with purple glitter.