Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

your orders when he feels like listening to them.”
    “I don’t give orders, Peter.   I’m not General Custer or whatever.”
    “Well, you’re our leader, like it or not.   And leaders give orders.”
    “I give suggestions.   And I strongly suggested that he not go there earlier today.   I told him we weren’t going to rescue his ass if he got in trouble, too.”
    “Did you mean it?”
    “No!” I said angrily.
    “Why are you mad at me?   I’m not at the Cracker Barrel.”
    I ran my hand over my face again.   “I’m not mad at you.   I’m just frustrated.   Now we have to go over there, risk our own butts, and possibly lose time on the road.   Actually, that would be the best case scenario.”
    “The worst case scenario being that we get eaten.”
    “Yeah.   That would be the worst thing I can think of.”
    “Can you do me a favor and not tempt fate with statements like that?” said Peter, sounding like he was only half joking.
    “Yeah, you’re right.   Things can always, always be worse.”   I reached down and grabbed my gun from the ground where I’d been sleeping.   “Just stay here.   I’m going to go see what he’s gotten himself into.”
    “Huh-uh, no way am I staying here alone.   I’m coming with you.”
    “Well get on your damn bike, then, because we can’t leave our stuff here.”
    “What are we going to do with Bodo’s bike?”
    “We’ll leave the big butt bike here and if he comes back while we’re gone he can get it.   I don’t want to leave the trailer unattended.”
    “Okay.   Good idea.   Maybe we should leave Buster here with Bodo’s bike.”
    “Fine.   Use that bungee cord in the trailer to tie him to the frame.   He has a hook you can use on his collar.”
    Peter got Buster all tied up and we got on our bikes to head over to the restaurant.  
    We’d gotten all of ten feet before Buster started barking.
    “What the hell is his problem?” I hissed.
    Peter turned around and went back, saying, “Shhh!   Buster!   No!”
    But Buster wasn’t having any of that being left behind stuff.   He was whining and dancing around, making it very clear that if we tried to leave him again, he was going to call all the canners from the nearby towns to come to dinner.
    “Friggin dog,” I growled, turning around and waiting for Peter to untie him.   I got off my bike and snatched the Hello Kitty backpack out of the trailer.   “Get in here, you stupid mutt.   I’m not going to risk you running around like an idiot, waking up all the canners.   You’re riding with me.”
    He got in the bag without fighting me on it, and I zipped it almost all the way up.   I left a space at the top that he poked his head out of.   This time I put him on my back so I wouldn’t have to take a Buster tongue bath on the way over to the Cracker Barrel.
    We left the highway underpass and Peter started giggling.  
    “Shut up, Peter.”   I was still grouchy.
    “I … I … can’t.   You have no idea … how ridiculous you look … with a poodle in a Hello Kitty backpack on your back.”
    “I can imagine, trust me.”   I shook my head.   Stupid Bodo is going to pay for this.  
    We pulled up into the parking lot of the Cracker Barrel.   It was completely dark.   My watch showed eleven o’clock - prime canner partying time - but so far, I’d heard no sounds; and it seemed like the canners were partial to shouting and making loud asses of themselves, so I was hoping this meant this was a canner-free zone.
    I stopped near the front porch of the restaurant.   Cracker Barrels were all designed the same way, with a large open area in front that held rocking chairs for sale and big chess games set up in between them.   I guess it was supposed to resemble an old trading post from the Wild West.
    Peter pulled up next to me.   “Do you see anything?” he whispered.
    “No,” I whispered back.   “Let’s go around back … make a loop.”
    Peter followed behind me as I went counter clock-wise around the building.
    Everything was black.   And silent.   There was no sign of Bodo or anyone else for that matter.   In fact, all the windows of the place were still intact and there was no sign of vandalism anywhere.   I was getting totally creeped out by the perfectness of it all.
    “There’s something really wrong about this place,” whispered Peter loudly.   “It looks like no one’s been here yet.   Like it’s frozen in time!”
    We drew up to