Code Zulu Alpha: Nerd in the Apocalypse!

I was just about to explain to Mason that the final result was still a tie and I didn't have to slap him in front of everyone, but he was already halfway in flipping through mid-air because Quinn smacked him across the face.

It was almost comical the way his body spun and was upside down for a moment, feet in the air, and flaccid dick not knowing where to correctly flop over.

"THE FUCK DID YOU SAY TO ME?! SAY THAT AGAIN TO MY FACE, YOU DUMB FUCK!"

"UrgHHh…" was all that came out of Mason.

"ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING TO ME?! D'YOU WANT ANOTHER–"

Quinn was about to stomp on his balls and send him to Valhalla, but luckily enough, Tatiana and I managed to hold her back. At the same time, everyone else was already several feet away from her and we were the only ones trying to diffuse the situation.

With that said, all we could hear from the poor dude below us was a pained and drawn-out groan that was slowly turning into noiseless heaving.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! You just knocked him down! Ten-second rule! Ten-second rule!"

"WHAT?!"

"Can't you even see him right now?! A fucking toddler could beat his ass! Calm your tits, Quinn!"

"YOU–"

Tatiana quipped, "Good luck finding a pair that could calm hers down. They look so fucking heavy, it's a miracle they're standing up like this."

Having heard Tatiana say that, I was ready to jump in between them because of Quinn's short fuse but it actually almost made Quinn laugh. However, she quickly bottled up that amusement before she angrily pointed at Mason.

"YOU THINK YOU COULD TALK DOWN TO ME JUST BECAUSE YOUR SISTER OWNS THIS TENT-CASINO?! YOUR SISTER'S THE OWNER, NOT YOU! FUCKING REMEMBER THAT! WHERE'S MARY?! I'LL TELL HER ALL ABOUT THE LOSSES YOU INCURRED JUST NOW! I BET SHE'LL BAN YOU FROM ENTERING THIS PLACE AND YOU'LL ONLY GET TO EAT WATER AND CRACKERS!"

'Mary? Isn't she– We'll just know if it's her when we see her…'

Quinn didn't stop telling Mason off but he just looked like a bruised hotdog that had arms and legs as he was unmoving on the ground. But since Quinn caused a ruckus, we were asked to leave the premises by the same official that tallied the score.

Despite that, my winnings from earlier plus my winnings from Mason were given to me without issue, and the only thing I didn't take was Mason's clothes. Quinn wanted to rip them apart but she was too busy kicking dirt on his face while we were trying to pull her away.

'She's definitely more than a handful…'

I inspected that bag I was carrying and even if it had enough room to carry all of the stuff I was given and awarded, walking around with a huge-ass bag with produce made me look like I just came from a farmer's market or was a gopher for the ladies with me.

I'd rather go around carrying my rifle instead of encumbering myself with a bag that was wearing down on me from one side. I could easily tuck in stacks of vouchers in my pockets, but there was nothing comfortable about lugging around jars of honey I currently didn't have a use for.

'Better drop this off first…'

With that said, I asked Quinn to follow us back to Mr. Cuervo's place first because our vehicles were parked there with the rest of our belongings. Granted we were already given a room or two to lay our heads in or secure some of our important items, but there were just certain items in our vehicles we couldn't casually move or bring out in the open.

It didn't take long before we laid our eyes on our vehicles but the only ones guarding them were Ibarra and Natasha.

I assumed that Jared would be there– because he'd always stay put, but it seemed like he went exploring with the rest of our team.

'He'll be fine though– He even brought his SCAR with him…'

With that said, Ibarra and Natasha saw us approaching them from the crowds of people passing by or having a good time, but their gaze landed on Quinn who was a foot taller than us. There was an immediate awkward silence when the two were staring at her a little too much, but I just introduced them to our new acquaintance.

"Quinn, that's Ibarra and Natasha. Ibarra and Natasha, this is Quinn."

Natasha sprang up, "Hi! Nice to meet you, I'm Natasha… W-We saw you earlier but– nevermind that, hello~"

Ibarra was trying so hard to maintain eye level, "Hello… I'm Ibarra…"

Quinn just gave them a simple nod, seemingly slightly disinterested, "Hmm."

"Okay… so, do you two know where the others went?"

Natasha answered, "Umm~ Kaley and Cynthia were in this big house a while ago but they went out to look for Tatiana in the cage thingy, was it? They met up with that couple earlier but they were already away for a while. Marina and Igor went with Ilya and the rest while Mikhail–"

Tatiana cut her off, "We know where Mikhail is."

"Oh, then~ let's see… Hey, Jared left with Jose, right?" Natasha said as she turned to Ibarra.

Ibarra nodded, "Yeah, I think they came with this Jerry guy that waved over them. I think Jared remembers him."

I nodded a few times, "Ah, Ben and Jerry, we've met them before. And the others?"

Natasha answered once more, "This was a while but Artem and Katya came looking for Mikhail a few minutes before we saw Quinn walk past us. If I remember correctly, he seemed to have found Kuzma's stuff. Is that true?"

I nodded before I turned to Quinn, "That reminds me, do you have any idea with that?"

Quinn gave a look of confusion as she squinted, "With what?"

"The Humvee we won from you. Have you met with the guy who used to own it?"

Natasha and Tatiana were waiting for Quinn's answer with concern and anticipation, and she eventually opened her mouth after pondering for a moment.

"I haven't met the guy but I was there when they brought that Humvee back. It looked like it was in an accident but the guys traded one of the cars for it– Dave's car. Well, that was Dave's car right until you won it from him but–"

Natasha cut her off, "W-Wait, accident?! Tell us about that please!"

Quinn scratched the back of her head, slightly revealing opening up her coat, "It would be best if you ask Dave's crew who were there but what I know was that they encountered this foreigner with that sick ride– to me, it looked like a ride that needed a lot of fixing but nevermind that– From what I heard, the guy was injured and in a hurry and he just offered everything he had on that Humvee just to get a ride to go somewhere."

"Did they ask where he was going?"

"I don't know about that part but what I know is that Dave's crew was just about to leave but they caught a glimpse of his gear that was left inside the wreck the guy was trying to trade for a car. I don't know about you guys but aside from pimping out cars, my crew of grease monkeys loves guns, especially the ones that are full auto since most of the shit we got are either shotguns or huge-ass pistols."

I chuckled, "StoPpInG pOwEr~"

Quinn shook her head, laughing, "We got rifles too but they're either semi-auto or just too fucking illegal to casually bring out. Long story short, they exchanged keys and Dave's crew just called for a trailer to get picked up. Trust me, those guys had the fun of their lives because they brought back those guns without any ammo while wearing huge smiles on their faces. Granted they made that area safer but I doubt they made efficient use of their resources. Dave almost lost his shit when he discovered that his car was exchanged for that heap of junk but they worked on it until it was road-worthy. However, what happened, happened so… it is what it is. Better ask them for more info–"

"Are they number 34, 68, 419, 16, 223, and 41?"

Quinn and everyone else never looked so confused, "What?"

"They're still part of your crew overall, right? You should know their numbers?"

"Huh? Fuck, no. I can't even remember half of their names! Well- I can remember their faces though– but not all of them. I get the numbered tattoos are cool when we started but when it got to three digits, it just got fucking awful! Also, who fucking told the guys to shave their heads?! It's a fucking fiasco, I tell ya."

Tatiana chuckled, "What happens if someone dies or quits? Do their numbers get taken or–"

"Don't get started about that again!"

"Again?"

"Some dumb guy suggested moving the numbers every time someone leaves or dies but imagine spending money to get your tattoo laser removed just to get a new one? What if someone dies or leaves every other day? See what I mean? I'll be mostly fine since I'm number four but what about the others below me? Imagine number 100 or something getting promoted every single day until he reached number 10 or something!"

When the realization hit, everyone else just chuckled or let out amused expressions with their gang's predicament, and we were lucky that the only thing that could partially identify us together was the pin or patch we were wearing to remember Kristoff.