most likely to kill him.
Below Jax on the beanstalk, Antoine blinked. When he opened his eyes, a look of resignation replaced his icy glare. “I’d love to say I am one hundred percent certain, but as we all learned yesterday, an overabundance of caution is never a bad thing when one climbs a magic beanstalk.”
He could say that twice. Though Jax was packing enough metal to knock a troll on his fat ass, he couldn’t shake the idea he’d missed something important.
“I don’t know. Something’s off here.” He adjusted his grip on the vines. “How is the goose even still alive with all the brain-dead rotting corpses wandering around?”
“Excellent point,” Veronica said.
They both looked to Antoine.
“My understanding of giant history is, the goose was a much-revered animal. It never aged or had to be fed. It simply was. And from it came the golden eggs, which financed the hopes and dreams of an entire race of giants. My theory, given their historical admiration of the goose, and the fact it produces golden eggs–shiny objects, just the type of thing the zombies are drawn to–the zombified giants leave the goose alone and go after the eggs.”
The theory had a kind of twisted logic to it, but it started Jax onto a whole new path of inquiry. “If the zombies don’t eat the goose and there aren’t any people up here, what are the zombies noshing on?”
“That is a question I cannot answer.”
“Guys, this is a fascinating conversation,” Veronica interrupted, impatience as thick as Caro syrup in her voice. “But we have a goose to catch. Let’s focus on the job at hand and get the hell out of here.”
“Point taken, Veronica. Point taken.” Antoine nodded. “Lead the way, Jax. We have a goose to catch.”
Jax poked his head out the hole in the clouds and checked the scene for anything moving that didn’t have a heartbeat. Everything looked clear, so he pulled himself the rest of the way out then helped Veronica. The moment their fingers intertwined and he got a whiff of her vanilla perfume, his body went on a whole other kind of alert. His position standing above her gave him the perfect view of her delectable breasts, framed by her leather jumpsuit’s lowered zipper. At that point, whatever blood was left in his brain took the bullet train south.
Once she stood next to him, he knew it was time to let go of her hand, but damn if his fingers didn’t have other plans, the kind that involved dragging that zipper as far down as it would go.
“Don’t drool on my boobs. It’s not polite.” By the soft velvet caress of her voice and the frantic rise and fall of her chest, despite her words, she wasn’t unaffected by him either.
Antoine tumbled forward from the beanstalk, landing in a heap at their feet. “Don’t worry, even though I’m an old man, I’m sure I can manage.”
The moment’s allure broken, Jax and Veronica unwound their fingers and stepped apart. His fingers still tingling, Jax held out a hand to Antoine and helped him up.
“Thanks, my boy. Now where is our fat little waddling friend?”
The cotton-candy scented trees stood about sky high with trunks so big around it would take at least three men holding hands to encircle one. The bark looked just like it did in his native North Carolina, that is if someone had taken the time to whitewash it. He stroked down the length with a finger, expecting the cloud to fly away under his fingertip. Instead, it remained as hard and unyielding as the Carolina red maple shading his mama’s back porch.
How in the world–
The hairs on the back of his neck spiked. He yanked his Bowie knife out and spun around in a smooth, fluid motion ready to attack but all he saw was blue skies and cloud trees.
“Honk!” came from a few feet below him.
The goose had to weigh close to thirty pounds. It had milky white feathers and a bright yellow bill with small dark patches on the side, making it appear as if it were smiling. It attacked
Below Jax on the beanstalk, Antoine blinked. When he opened his eyes, a look of resignation replaced his icy glare. “I’d love to say I am one hundred percent certain, but as we all learned yesterday, an overabundance of caution is never a bad thing when one climbs a magic beanstalk.”
He could say that twice. Though Jax was packing enough metal to knock a troll on his fat ass, he couldn’t shake the idea he’d missed something important.
“I don’t know. Something’s off here.” He adjusted his grip on the vines. “How is the goose even still alive with all the brain-dead rotting corpses wandering around?”
“Excellent point,” Veronica said.
They both looked to Antoine.
“My understanding of giant history is, the goose was a much-revered animal. It never aged or had to be fed. It simply was. And from it came the golden eggs, which financed the hopes and dreams of an entire race of giants. My theory, given their historical admiration of the goose, and the fact it produces golden eggs–shiny objects, just the type of thing the zombies are drawn to–the zombified giants leave the goose alone and go after the eggs.”
The theory had a kind of twisted logic to it, but it started Jax onto a whole new path of inquiry. “If the zombies don’t eat the goose and there aren’t any people up here, what are the zombies noshing on?”
“That is a question I cannot answer.”
“Guys, this is a fascinating conversation,” Veronica interrupted, impatience as thick as Caro syrup in her voice. “But we have a goose to catch. Let’s focus on the job at hand and get the hell out of here.”
“Point taken, Veronica. Point taken.” Antoine nodded. “Lead the way, Jax. We have a goose to catch.”
Jax poked his head out the hole in the clouds and checked the scene for anything moving that didn’t have a heartbeat. Everything looked clear, so he pulled himself the rest of the way out then helped Veronica. The moment their fingers intertwined and he got a whiff of her vanilla perfume, his body went on a whole other kind of alert. His position standing above her gave him the perfect view of her delectable breasts, framed by her leather jumpsuit’s lowered zipper. At that point, whatever blood was left in his brain took the bullet train south.
Once she stood next to him, he knew it was time to let go of her hand, but damn if his fingers didn’t have other plans, the kind that involved dragging that zipper as far down as it would go.
“Don’t drool on my boobs. It’s not polite.” By the soft velvet caress of her voice and the frantic rise and fall of her chest, despite her words, she wasn’t unaffected by him either.
Antoine tumbled forward from the beanstalk, landing in a heap at their feet. “Don’t worry, even though I’m an old man, I’m sure I can manage.”
The moment’s allure broken, Jax and Veronica unwound their fingers and stepped apart. His fingers still tingling, Jax held out a hand to Antoine and helped him up.
“Thanks, my boy. Now where is our fat little waddling friend?”
The cotton-candy scented trees stood about sky high with trunks so big around it would take at least three men holding hands to encircle one. The bark looked just like it did in his native North Carolina, that is if someone had taken the time to whitewash it. He stroked down the length with a finger, expecting the cloud to fly away under his fingertip. Instead, it remained as hard and unyielding as the Carolina red maple shading his mama’s back porch.
How in the world–
The hairs on the back of his neck spiked. He yanked his Bowie knife out and spun around in a smooth, fluid motion ready to attack but all he saw was blue skies and cloud trees.
“Honk!” came from a few feet below him.
The goose had to weigh close to thirty pounds. It had milky white feathers and a bright yellow bill with small dark patches on the side, making it appear as if it were smiling. It attacked
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