I have a few more chapters already written but I'm going to wait for at least one review before uploading in case a reader's opinion changes my mind.
Abby
"Okay, Mickey. Lead us home."
The man followed at a distance. He was eerily quiet as they followed Mickey's wagging tail. No wonder she hadn't heard him sneak up behind her.
In the following ten minutes of dead silence, Abby struggled to find words to start a conversation. She'd never been very outgoing except to get what she wanted. But this man was the first living person she'd seen in a long time, and she suddenly felt desperate for small talk.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the mushrooms she'd scavenged. "Do you know if these are poisonous?" She offered it to him.
She was surprised when his face broke into a silly grin.
"No, those ain't poisonous. They do have this way of makin' you see shit that ain't real though."
She dropped the mushroom and laughed, truly laughed, for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Well I'm sure glad I asked. I have an edible plants guide at my place, but these probably wouldn't be in it." She sighed and dumped out her bag. Another hungry night. Abby wasn't sure how much longer she could live on the stash from her last raid. Mickey's dog food was looking more enticing by the day.
"Before..." The man started, but paused. "Not too long ago, those would have made a fun time."
It was well into the afternoon when they reached her car. It was parked off a dirt road that snaked its way back to the graveyard of a highway.
Suddenly, Abby remembered the twine she'd hung between the top of her Ford and a sapling. The twine from which hung every pair of underwear she owned except the one she was wearing. Blushing, she ran to gather them up. They were still damp; clothes didn't dry much in this humidity. She looked up to see a quick flash of his grin again. She opened the trunk, pulled out her laundry bag, and furiously stuffed them in. Opening the trunk, she beckoned the man over.
"I have a first aid kit and some other supplies. Let me bandage you up."
As she cleaned and wrapped his arm, she couldn't help but notice the way his muscles felt under her hands. When she rubbed an alcohol swabbed over the wound, he tensed, and his bicep bulged. His shirt looked like it had once been a plaid button down, but with the dirt, holes, torn off sleeves it looked more like a rag. Once, she stole a glance at his face. She was startled at the intensity of his bright blue eyes.