Thore puffed out his chest but dutifully made his way toward Worm, whose frantic muttering had devolved into a series of unintelligible squeaks.
“Relax, buddy! They’re alive!” Thore exclaimed, pulling him upright with an overly enthusiastic pat on the back that sent Worm stumbling forward like a marionette with cut strings.
“A-alive?” Worm stammered, blinking rapidly as if to confirm this revelation. His eyes darted from the wreckage to our ragtag bunch before settling on me. “Y-you’re all mad!”
“If by ‘mad’ you mean brilliant, resourceful, and mildly insane, then yes,” I quipped, my usual sarcasm making a tentative resurgence.
Worm groaned in response, but I couldn’t be sure if it was from despair or relief—or both. Storming off, he muttered, “I need a drink.”
Getting to my feet, Thore walked over to Devlyn, reaching for his new kitten.
“Not so fast, Thore.” I grinned. “You gotta stay and feed Nibblet and Kiki.”
“But I already fed them, boss.”
Shaking my head, I smiled and pointed toward the front gates.
Thore groaned. “Oh, come on, boss. They will make a mess, and I’ll have to clean it up. I wanna play with my new kitten.”
Slapping the fucker on the back, I slung my arm around my woman and said, “Should have thought about that before letting your pets out to play. See ya at home, Thore.”
With that, we all walked out of the scrapyard to the sounds of Thore’s grumbles.
“Wade?”
“Yeah,Chèr.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Of course you are,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “What about the basketMômangave you?”
“I ate it all,” she whispered, then smiled up at me.
“Woman, there was enough food in that basket for four people!”
My woman narrowed her eyes and glared. “Three babies, Wade.”
Grimacing, I gulped. “Sure,Chèr. Whatever you want.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Several weeks later...
Time slowly passed, and eventually, everything calmed down. Well, everything except my woman and her appetite, which was followed closely by her ever-expanding stomach.
It seemed every day it got bigger and bigger.
I couldn’t help but marvel at the transformation unfolding before my eyes. Each passing day seemed to reveal a new layer of her insatiable hunger, a force of nature that defied logic and biology alike. It wasn’t just the volume of food she consumed, but the unyielding resolve she displayed in doing so. Plates piled high with decadent dishes were reduced to barren, gleaming surfaces in mere moments, as though they had never been graced with sustenance at all.
Her energy was relentless, a whirlwind of motion as she reached for platters, bowls, and trays without hesitation. “More gravy!” she hollered at Juju yesterday; a command issued with the authority of a monarch demanding tribute. And Juju, for all his stubbornness, had paused mid-protest, his face pale, and dutifully obeyed. It was as though her hunger had taken on an undeniable gravity, pulling everything and everyone into its orbit.
As days blurred together, the peculiar camaraderie of the crew began to shift. The once jovial banter was replaced with cautious murmurs and sidelong glances as we all learned to navigate the new normal. Food rationing became an urgent necessity, not for survival, but to ensure there was something left for the rest of us. And yet, despite the chaos she caused, there was a strange beauty in her determination—a fiery spirit that refused to be extinguished.
Her tenacity and ferocity astounded me.
It was like watching a badger fight a gator for a pig. And while I typically would believe the alligator would win, something had to be said for the badger, ’cause that was one mean ass critter.
“She’s eatin’ all the damn food!” Thore complained as I silently sat there and watched, half in awe, half in terror.
