If Youâre Still Breathing
This story involves Michael, Mutt, Jeff, a main original character and some minor original background people. It attempts to fill in some of what happened between the Apocalypse and Michaelâs arrival at Outpost 3. Iâm a fan of being inspired by music, so each chapter (and IYSB) are named based on what I was listening to when I wrote it. There is also smut, but itâs pretty soft, I think. This is not complete, needing at least 2 more unwritten chapters to resolve the story.
Characters: Michael Langdon, Mutt Nutter, Jeff Pfister, mention of Ms. Mead. Original main character because I donât like first-person. Tag requests: @thelangdoncooperative , @ccodyfern
Word count: 5,073
Chapters 1-4 Warnings: some sexual content, blood, gore, death. Chapter 1: âYouâre Gonna Go Far, Kidâ Outpost 2 was easily the largest, most technologically advanced of the bunch. The inhabitants wanted for nothing. Expanded from the historic Greenbrier Bunker in White Sulphur Springs, Outpost 2 had private rooms for 25, and dorm rooms for another 50. There were two 250,000-gallon water tanks, and 2 50,000-gallon diesel fuel tanks. All ventilation had radioactive particle filters and clean air circulators, plus there was water filtration, bunker to surface vault doors that needed 50 pounds of pressure just to unlock, and even recording and broadcasting equipment. The upgrades from the 60âs included hydroponic agriculture & livestock annexes, solar power, hydroelectric power, an armory, and for some reason a bowling alley. You name it and they had it. Unfortunately, it had a little too much of some things. And by things, I mean people. And by people, I mean two individuals in particular. Mutt Nutter and Jeff Pfister. They were the outpost designers, and they never let any of the inhabitants forget that they were alive because of them. âYou want me to what?! Check the irrigation drains under the northwest crops? I donât need to do anything; those fucking freeloaders can do it. I already saved humanity once!â They werenât any better with each other. âYou see this coffee, asshole? Tanzanian Golden Black Sky Desert Roast! If it wasnât for me, youâd be eating nutrient cubes back in California!â âYouâre the one who fucked up and put us here after I SPECIFICALLY said to put us in the Bahamas! I should be balls deep in Jennifer Lawrence right now, but instead weâre trapped with these fucking gremlins!â And that was just banter over breakfast. The others chalked it up to the price for surviving in splendor, and left them to their drugs and robots. The Outpost was light on entertainment personalities, but heavy on scientists, politicians and inventors. Many of the people who were meant to be there hadnât made it, but certain people, mostly Cooperative members, had been given a heads up, and were already underground when the bombs hit. Grace had been one of the first people to arrive, but she wasnât in the Cooperative or a billionaire. She was just a special education therapist whoâd moved to White Sulphur Springs from California 3 years ago.  *********
There at the base of the stairs, Grace smiled. âI thought it had to be you. You sent me the card with the Cooperative ID, didnât you?â âI did. I wish I could have collected you myself.â âBut why?â âI needed you. There wasnât time then, but there is now.â Grace watched his eyes. The bright blue sheâd grown so accustomed to now looked like moonlight on an ocean. âWhatâs happened to you? Are you okay? Whereâs Ms. Mead? Did she⌠oh no. She didnât make it did she?â âNo.â He stared straight ahead, pretending he didnât feel; a move sheâd seen before when he was trying to not cry. A tear slipped out and she watched it roll down his newly chiseled features. She reached out her hand to wipe it away then stopped. He had never liked surprise touching.  In a soft voice she said, âIâm sorry, I forgot to ask first. I wonât touch you without your permission again, I promise.â But he wasnât the same boy next door she remembered that was full of anger, swinging from sweet to vicious with no warning. Surprisingly, he stepped closer and enveloped her in his arms. Suddenly buried in his cloak, she relished the embrace. It felt good to be held, and it felt good to know that Michael had become more comfortable with touching. There, in the folds of his cape, she breathed him in, inhaling the scent of burnt wood mixed with something metallic. Electric. Grace realized he smelled like a battery tasted. She had to fight the urge to lick him to see if her tongue tingled. Instead, she laid her cheek on his chest and sank into the hug. Then her former boy next door leaned in and whispered, âBut you want to touch me, donât you?â His lips brushed against her ear and she reeled, feeling like sheâd just been sucker punched in the libido. She didnât know what had come over her, but she could barely restrain herself from grabbing at him, pushing him to the floor, wrapping herself around him and eating him alive. Her hands tightened on him for a moment, threatening to tear his skin right through his clothes. Then she forcefully pushed him away, succeeding only in pushing herself back against the stairs.  What was happening here? Grace thought she might faint from her sudden need for him, but he simply stood and observed her. It was clear that he was relishing the sight of her feeling so many things at once, her former role of protector wrestling with her baser instincts. She was literally clinging to the banister for support when he ran the tip of his tongue over the edge of his upper lip. With the cool nonchalance of tossing a valet the car keys, he cocked an eyebrow and said, âYou have my permissionâ, then turned and walked into the conference room.
Shocked, she ran scurrying down the hall like a mouse chased by a cat. She could almost hear Michaelâs laughter following her. Once she had reached her room and locked the door behind her, she collapsed on the bed and whispered to herself, âWhat the fucking fuck was that?!!â She replayed the reunion in her mind. Instead of finding answers, she found herself reliving the moment his lips touched her ear, over and over again.Â
Without even realizing it, she had pulled up her dress and begun touching herself. Her body ached for more, and Grace obliged, putting one, then two fingers inside herself, thrusting and rubbing, involuntarily moaning, âOh yes, please, please, more!â Her hips squirmed, and the memory of Michael sent a spasm through her, pushing her over the edge into climax. Unaware of anything existing but Michaelâs touch, she cried out with pleasure and release. âOh! Oh fuck! Oh my god! yes! Yes! OH FUCK YES!!!!â She brought herself to orgasm over and over again until she lay on her bed drained, unable to move, aftershocks of pleasure still rolling through her in waves as she fell asleep on her bed, half undressed and limp like a doll.
******
The meeting with Mutt and Jeff was predictable. Them being overly solicitous to Michael with just enough questioning and doubt to show they still thought they knew better. This had been coming for a while.
âSo, whatâs going on out there, dude?â
âMost people are dead, the ones that arenât are mutating and dying. Outpost One has been overrun and destroyed.â
âWhat?! No way, man. New York had a great defense system. Almost as good as this one!â
âApparently not good enough.â
âShit. So, what do we need to do to keep it from happening here?â
âThereâs nothing you can do except⌠are you prepared to fight?â
Jeff started making Pew! Pew! Blam! noises and pulled a gun out of his waistband. âOh, weâre ready. POW!â
Michael looked at Mutt. âI need to report back to the rest of the Cooperative of course. Why donât you show me around so I can get an idea of where we stand supply-wise?â
Clearly uncomfortable, he said, âOh, sure. But, uh maybe we should stay here, make sure everythingâs ready for your dinner.â
Jeff chimed in, âWeâre doing a special dinner to celebrate your arrival, man. Like, top of the line.â
Michael observed them both, having expected nothing less than avoidance. âM-mm, I see. Of course. Shall I just, wander about on my own then? See what I can find?â
Jeff gave a panicked, âNo!â then added, âWhat I mean is, you wouldnât want to miss anything important. You should totally have a guide. You want your special friend to take you around?â He exchanged a knowing look with Mutt.
Michaelâs brow furrowed. âWhat?â
âYou know, the nobody who you put in here with us, the one with no money or special talents who had a priority entry clearance? Come on, dude. Weâre not stupid. Obviously, sheâs somebody special to you. I didnât even know the Son of Satan could have personal attachments. Beyond the BattleaâŚ. Ms. Mead, I mean. So, whatâs the deal, you two getting it on? Did you save her to be like, your post-apocalyptic sex slave, or what?â Michaelâs eyes grew black, and the lights flickered. âThatâs not your concern.â
Mutt looked around nervously. âOkay, we were just curious. So, you donât want her to show you around? We can findâŚâ
âIt will be fine.â
âYeah, okay. Weâve got some... stuff to take care of.â Before Michael could even leave the room, the boys made a beeline for the drink cabinet, and opened it to reveal a giant crystal skull half full of cocaine, several syringes, and the bar sink full of robotic arms clutching bottles of alcohol. As the door shut behind him, Michael heard a gunshot and a round of hysterical giggling. He put his hand over his face and sighed.
****************
Chapter 2: "The Distanceâ
The intercom in Graceâs room buzzed, startling her from her unplanned nap. Once she got her bearings, she went over to the speaker. âThis is Grace, what is it?â
âGot a job for you, sweetheart.â Ugh, it was Jeff. Grace rolled her eyes at the intercom and prayed it wouldnât be something humiliating.âWhat kind of job?â
âLangdon wants a tour of the bunker.â
The butterflies started in her stomach, and lower down her parts clenched in an agonizing ache. âCanât Josie or Henry do that? Iâm kind of busy right now.â
Mutt chimed in, âNope. Itâs gotta be you babe. Try not to have too much fun. We need him back for the big dinner at 6.â
âSeriously?â
âSeriously. He just left the conference room so get your ass up here pronto.â Grace hurriedly changed out of the rest of her clothes and into jeans, a t-shirt, and work boots. A full tour would include the livestock pens, and she didnât want to look seductive anyway. She grabbed a hair tie on her way out the door and pulled her hair into a ponytail as she hurried down the hall. She rehearsed in her head giving a firm ânoâ if he tried touching or whispering to her again. But she also couldnât help imagining what could happen if she didnât.
As she rounded the corner, she saw Michael once again standing at the bottom of the steps, writing something in a small black notebook. Not knowing what to expect, nervous with anticipation, she walked up to him and tried a casual, âHi.â Her voice came out hoarse and she began to cough. She thought back to all the screaming sheâd been doing recently and grew warm with the thought. She hoped she wasnât blushing. Â
âSorry about that. Air gets pretty dry in here.â
Michael tucked the notebook into his jacket, then looked at her coolly. âPlease lead on. We have a lot to see.â
âOkay, well youâve seen the decontamination entrance and the overview/conference room, so letâs go down to the big stuff at the back.â As they walked down the corridor, Grace kept talking. She told herself it was because he would want to know as much as possible but truthfully, she was just trying to avoid thinking about what happened earlier. Michael either didnât notice or chose to ignore her, as his only contribution to her running dialogue was the occasional, âInteresting.â
She pushed open a set of glass double doors. âThis is the ER.â They walked past hospital beds and Michael peered into one of the operating rooms. There was everything a regular operating room would have: bone saws, ventilators, shock paddles, EKG machine, IV drips, and so on. âYouâre quite prepared.â
âMostly. And hereâs the pharmacy. We have everything one needs for typical stuff, we even have a setup for chemo. But they went heavy on the painkillers and didnât stock a lot of long-term meds, which I think was a mistake.â
They took a walk through the pharmacy rows, and as Grace talked, Michael would occasionally pick up a bottle or package. âIf you have questions about any of these, weâve got a basic guide and I still remember a lot from school so you can always ask.â
âThese arenât locked up? Anyone can access them?â
Theyâre unlocked now because Iâm showing it to you. Thereâs a code on the room and on the shelves, plus the cameras are simply everywhere.â She pointed up and waved to the camera. âJosh is probably on camera duty tonight. Hi Josh!â
Michael glared at the camera, and in the observation room, Josh grabbed his heart and collapsed to the floor.
They left the medical area and walked down to the power room. Keying in another code, Grace opened the heavy door and they were greeted with a wall of noise. âTheyâre pretty loud. Sorry.â She flipped a few switches and the actual size of the room became apparent. âThese are the diesel generators and tanks. We actually donât use them much since gas is a finite resource, but the sky isnât very bright some days thanks to the fallout, so⌠yeah. See these two tanks with the staircases attached? Thatâs all of our fuel.â
âAnd how full are they now?â
âWhat?â
He leaned in closer. âHow full are they now?!â
âOne hasnât been touched at all, and the other has...â She walked over to the tanks. âThis oneâs at 89%.â
âAnd whereâs your water source?â
âOh, most of that is filtered and recycled. This was a great place to build a bunker because thereâs also a naturally occurring deep spring underneath. The radiation levels for that are still holding, but we predict theyâll eventually succumb to runoff from the surface. The good news is even contaminated water can run a hydroelectric generator in a pinch.â
âYou know a lot about this. Special interest?â Grace raised an eyebrow and smirked, âYou mean survival? Yeah, Iâm pretty interested in that. Itâs in the best interest of the group that we all know as much as possible. Weâve got experts in certain areas, like the two chuckleheads and their roboticsâŚâ
âYou mean Nutter and Pfister?â
âOh, no offense, I know you three work pretty closely.â
âWhat makes you say that?â
âWell⌠you saw them alone in the conference room, and they talk all the time about how theyâre very influential with the Cooperative leader. Thatâs you, right? The leader? Whatâs the deal with The Cooperative? Whatâs the common goal?â
Michael hesitated, trying to avoid the topic
âLook, if you canât talk about it, I understand, but how did that happen? Leading the Cooperative is a long way from lessons in my basement. Iâm glad for you, I always knew you were too strong willed to let anything hold you back butâŚâ
Michael rushed in and closed the gap between them pinning her against the tank. âYou have no idea.â Then he kissed her, roughly. His lips mashed up against hers and she never even had a choice. She opened her mouth to him, nipping at his bottom lip, hungry and uncontrolled. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and they fought, her need matched by his hunger. Her hands ran through his long golden curls, grasping and tugging, trying to bring him closer. The kiss broke, and she sighed as he bent down to kiss her neck, licking and biting his way from her collarbone to her ear and back again. His hands roamed over her body, her skin burned hot wherever he touched her. It was too much for Grace, and she had to cry out, âStop!, I canât! I... Please, itâs too much!â Tears leaked from her eyes, not because she was in pain, but because sheâd never wanted something so much in her life and for some reason, she couldnât just let it happen.
Michael looked at her, glassy eyed and drunk on her need. He watched her hands opening and closing, grasping at the air instead of him. She wanted this. She needed this. This was rich, thick desire that he could taste and hear and smell and feel. The tension between them made the air shimmer with heat. Like magnets, they could only get so close to each other before they touched out of sheer force. He experimented, raising his hand to her waist and bringing it closer and closer until he felt the pull, breaking free only to do it again. She held her breath, afraid of what she might do if he touched her again.
A door alarm blared at the end of the hall, breaking the spell. Michael clenched his fist, ready to set ablaze the person who interrupted them, but remembered where he was and restrained himself to avoid an incident. Surprisingly, it was Grace who composed herself first and suggested, âShall we move on?â
They walked through the kitchen, avoiding the hot pans and sharp knives, chopping and slicing, sizzling and flashing. The kitchen crew couldnât help but stare as Michael strolled through with his blonde shoulder-length hair and elegant black clothes, nodding approvingly at one thing or another. He dipped his finger into the creamy mushroom soup and tasted it, saying simply, âNot badâ, giving a rare glimpse of his full-wattage smile. With that, he could have stabbed every member of the crew with their own knives and they would have thanked him for the privilege of dying by his hand. Grace was impressed. He had come a very long way.
She chimed in to say, âAlmost everything youâll have tonight was grown right here. The animals arenât ready for breeding, but when they are, weâll have fresh meat as well.â
âWhat kinds of animals do you have now?â
âOh, you know, chickens, a cow and a steer, a pair of pigs⌠Itâs like Noahâs Ark down there. But not all the animals are for eating. Come on, Iâll show you.â They walked through the green mist of the hydroponic vegetables and herbs, past the fruit trees in pots, past the composting, and entered the husbandry through an honest to god split-rail fence.
The animals came crowding around and at first Grace thought it was for her, but then she realized that they had all gone to Michael instead. And the oddest part was that they werenât crowding him, they all just⌠sat there, as if in a trance. âLike theyâre asking to be sparedâ ran through her mind. What a strange idea.
âYouâve got a way with animals.â
He looked a little uncomfortable. âNot really, I think theyâre just interested in me because Iâm new.â
âThat must be it.â Grace knew better, but if Michael didnât want to talk about this particular weirdness, that was okay. âBut you havenât seen the best part.â
âAm I going to have to walk through more mud?â His fancy Louboutin boots were looking quite muddy.
âMud, no. Dirt, probably.â
Michael seemed to stop and consider his options. He sighed, âFine.â
She led him around the side of the enclosure and whistled. Two beautiful black horses came trotting up. âArenât they amazing? Do you want to feed them?â
âWhy?â
âWhy? Because it will make them happy.â Michael seemed a little confused by the idea of making an animal happy, but took the shiny red apples that Grace gave him and held one in each hand for the two beauties. They gently nuzzled his hands and then methodically chomped away on them until there was nothing left. âHuh.â
âGood babiesâ, cooed Grace. And to Michael, âYou see? That wasnât so bad. Oh!â She suddenly beamed. âI forgot, check this out!â She led Michael into the enclosure and waved her hands dramatically. âTa-da!â There stood a black carriage, like the ones youâd see in old movies. His eyebrows raised in quiet approval. Wooden wheels, curtains on the windows. He peeked inside. Leather seats, too. âWhatâs this for?â
âWell, Henryâs logic was that if the day came where we needed to venture out for supplies, that having a carriage would make much more sense than a car because we wouldnât need to carry gas for it or rely on finding any later. If the horses can eat what we eatâŚâ She was interrupted by an announcement blaring from the speaker in the ceiling. It was fucking Jeff again.
âLadies and gentlemen! The time is now 5:00 and in an hour we will be having a celebratory feast in honor of Mr. Langdon. Please make sure you are tastefully attired and on time! Over and out!â
Grace and Michael shared a look.
âI guess the tourâs over.â
âWeâll finish it later.â
**********
Chapter 3: âBelief In God Is So Adorableâ
The dinner was unnecessary, but Michael had learned that these kinds of things were easier to get through than call off. And besides, it would give him a chance to try an experiment. He looked around the table at the scientists, intellectuals and politicians and military men. He stood and raised his glass in a toast. âFellow Cooperative members, as you may have heard, Outpost One is gone.â People nodded their heads and tried to look broken up about it. âBut let us not ignore the fact that we are still here.â More thoughtful nodding. âI would like to raise my glass to Outpost two, and your efficient and sustainable colony.â Mutt and Jeff let out a âYeah! Damn right!â and stood up to chest bump each other. Then they stepped away from the table to do a few lines and argue about which bottle of wine to open. Everyone else applauded politely, raised their glasses in return and drank. Individual bowls of soup were being placed before each person. âWhat do we have here?â asked Michael. The person serving said, âMushroom soup, sir. Made from mushrooms grown right here. And fresh cream, too.â âWell, it looks delicious.â He winked at the server, who from that moment on would have gladly cut his own eyes out with rusty razor wire then sautĂŠed them with rosemary and eaten them if Michael had asked him to. Michael dipped his spoon into the bowl and brought it to his lips then stopped, putting his spoon down and simply sitting while he watched the guests eat every last spoonful while they talked about some garden pests or fortifying a support girder or something else equally pointless. Michael frowned. It hadnât worked. He wondered if it was a dosage problem or if it was the rate the pills dissolved in hot soup. But then, Henry started to drift. He looked so tired. Then Josie, then Doris too. They could barely hold their heads up. The three senators soon followed suit, then the General. The other diners were slumping in their seats and Michael began to smile. âGood to knowâ, he whispered to himself. Mutt and Jeff continued to argue in the corner, oblivious to anyone elseâs condition. Michael sighed internally. No one appreciated subtlety anymore. Once everyone had succumbed and was face down in their soup or puddled on the floor, Michael stood up. âGentlemen, since our companions seem to resting, I wonder if you could help me with something.â âYeah, sure. Whoa, what happened? Are they going to be okay?â âOh, yes. Theyâll be fine. Just⌠napping. I still need a tour of the armory and I wanted you two to take me since I know itâs your area ofâŚâ Michael hesitated, barely able to say the word, ââŚexpertise.â âWhat? Oh dude! Absolutely! Letâs go!âJeff whooped and hollered the whole way there, Mutt egging him on. They unlocked the shooting range and took Michael to the armory. âWeâve got everything you need, man.â âI donât need anything, I just need to know what you have.â âOh. Well, you mind if we shoot off a few rounds first?â Michael waved his hand at them, âOf course.â He sat back in a green plastic chair, putting his feet up on the rail. He knew what was coming. âSo, uh, letâs just do a few lines first, ok?â They opened up yet another unimaginative cocaine stash inside a target dummy then laid out a pile and bulldozed their faces through it. As they brought their heads up, they realized something was off. Weird. âDude, you feel that?â âLike, that buzzing? What the fuck is that? OW!â Blood began to run out of Jeffâs nose. He turned to look at Mutt, who had sunk to the floor holding his head in his hands. He turned to Michael and yelled, âWhat is happening?!â Michael gave the most sardonic of smiles and said, âOh, itâs quite simple really. My father has revoked your privileges.â Jeffâs eyes bugged in disbelief. He screamed hysterically, âWhat do you mean fucking revoked? We paid our dues man! We sold our souls!â Behind him Mutt began to rhythmically beat his head on the floor. âYes, you did. But you havenât exactly upheld your end of things, have you? Did you think I wouldnât know?â âAuuugh! Fuck!â The nosebleed was hemorrhaging, leaving Jeff soaked in his own blood, woozy and thick-headed. âWouldnât know what?!?!! We gave you the apocalypse, dude!â Michael stood up, clasping his hands behind his back and cocking his head to one side. Speaking in a voice that was all gravel and bitterness he said, âYou lied to me. You tried to manipulate me.â Jeff fell to the floor next to Mutt, trying to stand but slipping in the blood that was spreading around them. Michael continued, âYou programmed Ms. Mead to say what you wanted to say. You used her. You took away her memories and gave her ones that you liked better. You changed her. And in doing so you worked against me.â He slowly walked his way over to the miserable pair. âYou.â He looked at Mutt, who had slammed his head into the floor so many times that his eyes had rolled back into his head and pieces of his brain were flapping idly at the edges of his skull. He stepped closer, hand clenched. âUsed.â He watched Jeff try to hold his head up, blood now flowing from his ears, eyes, and skin. He stepped closer, clenching the other hand. âMe!â He threw his hands open and they held roaring fire, flames licking and jumping in anticipation. âAnd my...â His face went ghostly white, black holes where his features should be. His voice boomed so powerful and angry it could have toppled mountains. ââŚMS. MEAD!!!â The flames shot to the ceiling and curved back down, igniting Mutt and Jeff. They wailed and screamed, slowly and painfully burning to a blackened crisp. Michael snapped his hands shut and stood stone faced, watching the ashes swirl across the floor. He casually brushed a stray lock of hair off his face and straightened his jacket. One last loose end to tie up. ******** Beginning of Chapter 4: âI Am a Rockâ
Grace thought back to when she first met Michael. When a boy of 16 comes knocking at your door and he isnât selling something for school, one gets nervous. And here was this boy, all ripped black jeans and combat boots, unsure of how to say hello to a stranger. He stood there on her doorstep, just looking at her, as if she was supposed to just know what he needed. âWhereâs your moâŚMs. Mead?â she asked, looking around. The tall boy with icy eyes and curls like an angel looked around too. âI donât know, I mean she was here, but now sheâs not and the carâs not hereâŚâ The boy was clearly not comfortable being alone, and seemed anxious. âIs there someone I should call?â He looked sheepish and said, âCan I just wait here?â âSure. We can do that. Letâs wait outside so we can see her car when she gets back.â And she thought to herself, âAnd so Ms. Mead doesnât skin me alive for having her boy in my house unsupervised.â âOkay. Thank you. May I have some water?â Grace brought out some water for the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. He flinched, swatting at her hand. She took a step back then sat down on the steps at a respectful distance, putting the glass of water in the space between them. âSorry, Iâll ask permission next time, okay?â Michael stayed silent, looking doubtful. âI will ask permission before I touch you. I promise.â They sat awkwardly until he finished the water. He handed it to her saying, âHereâs your glass. Iâm finished.â âThank you⌠I donât know your name. What should I call you?â âMichael. Michael Langdon.â âHow old are you Michael?â â16.â âAnd where do you go to school?â âI donât like these questions.â Dammit, she had pushed too hard again. In her head, she admonished herself. âListening skills, Grace! Come on!â âOh, Iâm sorry. Do you not want to talk? Just wait?â âJust wait.â Grace was trained in working with special needs kids, and this young man Michael, with his specific ways and rigid preferences, acting a little younger than his age would suggest, seemed to have some delays. She wondered if there was some kind of developmental disability there. She desperately wanted to ask more, but there was no point pushing him. They sat and watched the cars pass and listened to the summer insects buzzing.  Michael broke the silence. âWhy are you always playing music and hitting things?â âWhat? Oh, Iâm practicing. Practicing martial arts.â âYou listen to music for that?â âWell, I do. It helps keep me motivated. Itâs not too loud is it? I donât want to bother anyone.â âNo, itâs not loud. Well, Ms. Mead doesnât like it but I think she just doesnât like that kind of music.â âWell, itâs not for everybody. Iâll try to keep it quieter so she doesnât have to listen.â âYou practice fighting? Can you teach me fighting?â Grace had an inspirational idea, but it would require some coordinated effort and planning. âThat⌠would be up to Ms. Mead. If she says itâs okay, then I can certainly try.â âSheâll say okay.â And just like that, her car came pulling into the driveway.Michaelâs face lit up, and he ran off, calling out over his shoulder, âBye! Iâll see you tomorrow!â âTomorrow?â Grace thought, âOh, boy.â








