It was with a bubbly joy that Louis had never seen in her that Zoey took up their shift of the watch with him.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I'll show you in a minute," she replied, grinning.
Bill propped himself up against the safehouse wall, pulled his hat down over his eyes and almost immediately nodded off. Francis, however, seemed content to take his time. It took him three readjustments of his vest (which he had taken off to use as a pillow), several different sleeping positions and at least ten irritated "hmph"s before he finally nodded off.
Smiling gleefully, Zoey practically dove into the backpack of the group's supplies. They alternated carrying it with them: today it had been her turn. She rummaged around a bit before she finally extracted a bottle of Coca-Cola.
"Where did you get that?" Louis asked, scooting toward her with interest.
"Remember earlier when I ducked into that side room back near the greenhouse?"
"And Bill flipped a shit when he couldn't find you? Yeah, how could I forget?"
"Well, it's because I saw this. I wanted to save it to share with you for our watch. I'm always okay with a caffeine boost."
She twisted the top off, muffling the hiss of escaping carbonation into her pink jacket, and took a long sip.
"This is the best Coke I've ever had. No joke," she told him, handing the bottle over and wiping her mouth off with her sleeve.
She was right. And within fifteen minutes, the soda was gone; they were both jittery from the caffeine rush and spent the four hours of their watch cracking jokes about polar bears.