Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

put the blanket next to him on the floor with a bottle of water nearby.   Bodo and I laid down on our mattresses on our sides facing each other, talking softly.
    “Today wass a terrible day,” said Bodo.
    “Yes and no,” I said.
    “What do you mean?   How did I miss da good parts?”
    “Well, I think we can assume that the tribes will come together, now that they have a common enemy.   Celia’s back home and out of danger.   And we’ve found out about a bunch of kids that need rescuing.   The tribes can do this, I know they can.”
    “I can’t belief da zombies were keeping kids like cattle.   Dat’s just insane.”
    “It is insane.   But it makes sense that this would be their next level of insanity, doesn’t it?   Now they can settle down in one place - go out on raids to find more … food.   I hate to say it, but if I was a mentally ill but smart zombie, it’s what I’d do.”
    “Sometimes you scare me, Bryn.”
    “Sometimes I scare myself, Bodo.”
    “So what do we do now?” he asked.
    I thought about it for a second before answering.   “Well … I think we help these kids to get their act together, get them trained in combat using the krav maga and George’s war journal, and then we figure out how to get those other kids to safety.”
    “And den?”
    “And then?   We figure out how to live together.   We make our home here.   We take care of Peter and help him get over this crisis … I don’t know.   You tell me.   What then?”
    “I like your plan.   Dare’s just one thing missing.”
    “What’s that?”
    He leaned in closer to me … so close I could feel his breath on my lips, and said, “Just this.”   And then he kissed me.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    Readers!   Where would I be without you?   Not where I am today, which is working at my dream job and having a ball.   So thank you from the bottom of my heart.   You guys are the best.   Thank you also for your encouragement and all the laughs on Facebook, Twitter and my website.   I love getting up every day and knowing I have you guys to interact with and messages waiting in my inbox.   Aidan, thank you for all the cover work and hilarious tweets.   This book is for you!

    To my editor, Margaret.   Thank you for that bold red pen you dash and slash across my work.   Without you I’d really be sunk (in typos, especially).   To my beta readers this time around Aidan, Margaret, Theresa, Seth, Craig … thanks so much, not only for giving me valuable feedback, but also for being so dang fast about it!   I’ve incorporated everything you mentioned in one way or another.   I hope I did you proud.

    To Derek and Heather Emmons, the cover artist/photographer and his gorgeous model/wife.   I could not have found a more perfect cover for my book.   Thank you so much for allowing me to use the image.  

    To Lady O and Sir Richard, again, my wonderful, generous friends.   At least half of this book was written in your apartment in Paris.   You’ve given me a wonderful haven where I can let loose and be creative, and a place where I feel welcome and loved.   You have my eternal gratitude.

    To my fellow writers who I’ve come to count on for support, laughs, sounding boards, and midnight chats - especially Amber Sweetapple, Jack Sheppard, and Jason “Muskrat Head” Brant. You guys kill me.   Some day, I wanna party with you guys.   Thank you also to Dannika Dark for my gorgeous Facebook header.   You are so sweet (and incredibly talented)!

    Thank you to the Miccosukee and Creek indians who reside in Florida.   Your incredibly rich history and beautiful artwork and customs were great inspirations for this book.   I hope I have accurately depicted them and given your people and communities the respect they deserve.

    To my family, who supports me and loves me and finds ways to work around my crazy writing schedule.   It’s for you that I do all of this.   A special thank you to my husband who will surely attain sainthood after he moves on to the Overworld for putting up with me all these years.