Bea hadn’t really expected the gut punch of homesickness that came along with reminiscing about their city. Usually she was more than happy to come and go, but there was something about how foreign Kamong was that made her crave things that were familiar. “Fucking sucks a little,” she agreed with an almost pained expression. “About the only fucking thing I don’t miss now are the cabbies.” She’d been almost hit in too many crosswalks to hold any kind of goodwill for that part of city life. She thought it was probably better for the both of them if she didn’t list anything else.
At the very least she could take away from the conversation the fact that there was someone else on the island that understood how she felt; as independent as she was and had been, it was an unexpectedly nice thing.
Her grin was a little sly around the corners as she responded with, “Best fucking way to be.” It brought along with it labels she could have lived without, but it wasn’t like she was going to get her feelings hurt over someone else taking issue with how she operated.
Maybe it was too much knowledge of the business world or the fashion world, but Bea understood why someone would seek leadership, she just didn’t want to be one of them. “Because power is fucking addicting, even if it comes with backlash.”
Stories to make up. Bea really wondered why kind of story was being fed to her family, to her workplace and to her friends. She had been gone long enough that there was no doubt she’d be missed, and the whole crew she had come with had obviously missed deadlines. Someone was going through a lot of trouble to cover what was happening up, which only made Bea think that it was a problem they had started in the first place.
Was it too dark to wonder if whatever created the zombies had been man-made?
“I really fucking doubt anyone would follow up with those.” She pushed her ponytail back over her shoulder as she shifted in her chair again. “Probably be better to just exile him to the furthest part of the jungle, if he causes trouble like that.” It was more civilized than death, but it wasn’t like they had an HR department or anyone willing to follow up on first world complaints.
Honestly, she wasn’t going to be surprised if it became a battle to continue to live as civilized as they had been.
Waiting through Lydia’s questioning of the woman about her ankle, she continued to look the both of them over. She hadn’t noticed the injury, so it was more than a good thing that the other woman had been there to ask about it. They would have been fucked if it had been a bite and Bea was the only one checking.
“I need to see both your torsos too,” she told the pair. Bites were easy to cover by a change of shirt. “Don’t even fucking start on anything either, I’m not asking you to take your tops off.” There was only a beat between her words and the two complying. Neither carried any marks that Bea was worried about.
“Do you think we’re good?” she asked Lydia. They had covered everything they were required to, but there was always the possibility that one or the other could think of something else, just to be safe.