Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

Without him we’d be … ”
    He didn’t say the rest of his sentence but I knew what he was thinking, so I finished it for him.   “We would have been cooked.”
    “Exactly,” said Peter quietly, as he rode past me.
    I got on my bike and took a few tentative pedals forward and found the trailer surprisingly easy to pull behind me.   I turned a few circles around the parking lot and it just followed behind, bumping very little over the cracks and dips in the asphalt.
    Peter began talking to the dog again, using his higher-pitched voice.   “You like that, don’t you Buster Wuster?   Pinky dinky?   Doggy woggy loggy?”  
    “Stop, you’re making me sick to my stomach,” I said, as we wheeled out of the parking lot and back to the road.
    “What’s the matter?   Is Brynnie winnnie getting angry wangry?”
    I aimed my bike for him, narrowly missing and sending him nearly into the ditch.
    “Hey!   Watch it, lunatic driver!”
    “Don’t baby talk at me or I’ll be forced to put you down.”
    “You heard that, Buster!   She just threatened me with euthanasia!”
    Just my luck.   I’ve hooked myself to a nutcase poodle-lover who thinks he can talk to dogs.
    I shook my head, ignoring his blather in favor of watching road signs, looking for the one that would direct us over to Interstate 95.  
    It was time to head south.
    ***
    We got to the highway forty-five minutes later.   We would have gotten there sooner but we mis-read the map twice.
    “Finally!” shouted Peter.   “We made it!” He was so full of glee, it was hard not to smile.
    We took the on-ramp up to the highway surface.   I was nervous about being out there this exposed, but it was still relatively early in the day and there was plenty of room to make evasive maneuvers if we were seen by anyone.   Plus, there were plenty of abandoned cars to hide behind.
    Peter came up beside me.   “Why are all these cars here?   They don’t have bodies in them.”
    We passed by an older Honda, its driver-side door open.   “I was wondering the same thing, but then I decided it wasn’t adults who were driving them and just died at the wheel.   I think these are cars that kids were driving when they ran out of gas.”
    “Ohhhh,” said Peter.   “That makes sense.   I wonder where they are now.   The kids, I mean.”
    “Who knows?   I just hope they stay the hell away from us.”
    “Would it be so bad to have others join our pack?” he asked, looking over at me.
    “Yes.   No.   I don’t know.”   It was a tough question I didn’t have a ready answer for.   “If they’re cannibals?   Yes, obviously it would be bad.   But anybody we add is another mouth to feed, another person who could blow our cover … it’s probably not worth it, even if they aren’t canners.”
    “But what about … for companionship?” Peter said more softly.
    “You’re all the companion I need.   You and Buster.”   I looked back at the little guy who was now curled in a ball, his head tucked into his side with his eyes closed. The wind ruffled his fuzz a little, making him twitch an ear.   I turned back to watch where I was going, swerving to miss a chunk of tire in the road and causing the trailer to rock a little.  
    “Yeah,” said Peter, “but just me and Buster won’t be enough … not forever.   I mean, at some point you’ll want … someone else.”
    “Do you mean like for sex?”
    Peter’s face turned pink.   “Maybe.   Or whatever.   Kissing.   Talking to.   Cuddling.”
    “God, you are such a chick sometimes,” I teased.
    “Shut up.   Everyone needs to be cuddled once in a while.”
    I wanted to say that I was pretty sure those canners didn’t need to cuddle anymore, but I kept my mouth shut.   I didn’t want to spoil the moment.
    “Yeah.   Maybe,” I agreed.   “But right now, all I care about it finding a place where we can settle down.”
    “Me too,” said Peter.   “And Bryn …,” he cleared his throat, and glanced at me a couple times before continuing.   “I just want to say … thanks.   Thanks for taking me in and bringing me with you, too.   I’m really glad we’re together.”
    “You don’t want to cuddle now, do you?”
    Peter laughed.   “Heck no,” he squeaked.   “Not with you.”
    “Phew.   Good.   You had me scared for a second there.”
    Peter reached out to slap me but I easily swerved out of his reach.  
    “Hands to yourself there … stop trying to flirt