Calvin took a long drag on his joint and shook his head. “I really didn’t think she-”
Zion cut him off by smacking him on the back of the head. “Lucky for you, we’re in the apocalypse so her pickins are slim,” he said, pointing a playful finger in his friend’s shocked face, “so you might be able to get another chance.”
“Wait, you think…” Calvin trailed off, sitting with his joint smoldering away in his hand, forgotten.
“Hell yeah, I think she’s into you,” Zion confirmed with a nod. “And I’m not just saying that to protect your wellbeing from my sister.”
His friend thought back to every moment from the night before, finally remembering his weed and taking another thoughtful few puffs, replaying each bat of Tori’s eyelashes and brush of her fingers on his arm as they drew their blueprints.
He finally scrubbed a hand down his face, groaning. “Apparently I need to start having some coffee with dinner,” he admitted, “because holy hell, how did I miss those signs?”
“If you’re interested,” Zion replied playfully, “I do teach a course for a totally affordable amount.” He laughed.
Calvin sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Come on,” his friend said, smacking his knees and getting to his feet. “Let’s grab some breakfast and go see what your girlfriend has cooked up in the parking garage.”
CHAPTER TWO
Zion and Calvin came out of the stairwell to the parking garage. Every truck and SUV had been moved against the far wall, and the cement floor was a disaster zone. There were car parts and bits of metal strewn around everywhere, tools and bins scattered about.
“This place looks like my brother’s room growing up,” Calvin declared. “If my momma were here, somebody would be getting yelled at for sure.”
Zion opened his mouth to respond, but a loud metallic clang startled them.
“What in the holy hell was that?” Calvin demanded, and they rushed into the thick of things, looking around. As they came around a large van, Jack, Missy, and Harold exchanged high fives while standing beside a tall metal structure on rollers.
Zion raised an eyebrow. “Looks like they built something fun,” he said. He and Calvin wandered over, studying the contraption.
It was six feet tall, with roughly welded patches of metal in the center. The top two feet had a dozen metal bolts about four feet long, points on the ends. At the back was a giant lever connected to the bolts, with five wheels along the bottom, like heavy duty versions of office chair wheels.
“My my,” Zion piped up as they approached, “what do we have here?”
Jack grinned, brushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead. “Hey guys, you like what you see?” he asked.
“That depends,” Zion replied, cocking his head. “I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking at.”
Missy spread her hands, presenting the object as if she were on a game show. “I like to call this the Impaler Three-Thousand.”
“Patent pending,” Harold added.
Calvin scratched the back of his head. “Why do you call it three-thousand?” he asked.
“Because each spike is capable of reaching three-thousand psi, assuming you have someone strong enough to work the lever,” Missy replied.
Zion eyed his companion with a smirk, “Guessing she isn’t talking to you,” he joked, and there was a ripple of laughs throughout the group, Calvin included. “So, walk me through it,” he said, motioning to the contraption.
Jack stepped forward, demonstrating as he spoke. “It’s simple enough,” he explained, “you just push it up to the concrete barrier, and pull the lever as hard as you can.” He pulled the lever slightly to the right before slamming it down, and all twelve metal bolts rocketed in between the metal railing above the concrete, all of them hitting around head height with a deafening CRACK.
Calvin crossed his arms. “Didn’t look like you pulled the lever that hard,” he said. “Hell, I’m pretty sure I can hit three-thousand myself.”
Jack smirked and shook his head, grunting as he strained to lift the lever back up to the top. As he moved up, it clicked into place in the notches. He gave up a few from the top.
“Need a hand with that?” Zion asked.
Jack shook his head and stepped back from the machine. “Nah, it’s all good,” he replied. “We still need to make a few minor tweaks to the springs.”
“So it’s a spring-loaded death machine?” Zion asked, a wide grin forming on his face.
“I was wondering why you had those on the shopping list yesterday,” Calvin mused, wagging his finger at the students.
“You guys found a lot of them,” Missy declared, smiling triumphantly. “Enough to build four or five more of these.”
Harold rubbed the back of his neck. “But we still need a few smaller parts to complete them,” he admitted.
“Just put them on the shopping list, and we’ll see what we can do this afternoon,” Zion suggested.
Missy cocked a brow. “I thought you were doing a run this morning?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Sorry, but Wendy called in last night, and we have to go help them out first,” he replied.
“Oh, okay,” she said, nodding, “that gives us time to work out everything we’re going to need for the lopper.”
Zion and Calvin exchanged a glance, saying in unison, “The lopper?”
The college kids grinned, and Jack motioned for them to follow him. They walked to the far corner of the garage, next to an area completely bathed in sunlight. Tori sat on the ground tinkering with a small weed-eater sized engine connected to a long six-foot handle that jettisoned out from the base. Above the engine was a metal post that was six feet high, with a trio of plastic arms sticking out of the top in a four-foot radius.
“Okay, I’m intrigued,” Zion said, gaping at the machine.
Tori looked up and regarded them, smiling warmly at Calvin. “Hey guys,” she said, “give me just a minute and I can give you a demonstration.”
Zion nudged his companion playfully as
