Michael Joke's face was beet red, his cheeks puffing like a bullfrog's, as he glared at the two yapping over there.

  His hands were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, like he was wringing the necks of his rage.

  God only knew how much self-control he was mustering to keep from going ballistic.

  They'd better not get all lovey-dovey and rub it in his face, or he couldn't swear he wouldn't go on a rampage.

  “Jean, I'm sorry I'm late. Otherwise, you wouldn't have...”

  Ivan said, looking like a kicked puppy.

  “It's none of your beeswax. Cut the melodrama, okay?”

  Billy Jean said, her tone as sharp as a tack.

  “But...”

  Ivan was about to spill his guts when Billy Jean cut him off at the pass.

  “Scared of me now that I'm a zombie? Or grossed out?”

  Ivan shook his head like a bobble-head.

  “Then that's that. I'm a zombie, but I'm still Billy Jean. Same old, same old. And I'm digging my new undead status. Nobody messes with me. I flash my fangs, and they hightail it.”

  Looking at Billy Jean, Ivan saw her skin was as smooth as a baby's bottom and as fair as fresh snow.

  It was clear she'd been getting by okay in this zombie pocalypse, so he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

  Seeing Michael Joke, who'd been boring holes into them with his stare, Ivan asked,

  “What's his problem?”

  Billy Jean shrugged like it was no biggie.

  “Maybe he can't let go cause I dumped him back in the day. Maybe he's here for payback.”

  Ivan's eyes narrowed to slits, and he said,

  “He's asking for a world of hurt.”

  Then he was about to march up to Michael Joke like a unslinger.

  Billy Jean snagged his arm.

  “Don't be a hothead. I'm a zombie now. He can't touch me.”

  Michael Joke's eyes were glued to Billy Jean's hand clutching Ivan's, and his black eyes were boiling with fury.

  “Billy , let go.”

  His voice was as sinister as a snake's Roar.

  Billy Jean let go faster than a hot potato, not wanting to poke the bear that was Michael Joke.

  Seeing Billy Jean let go, Michael Joke's face relaxed a smidge.

  But he wasn't about to let them gab any longer.

  “Billy, over here. Time to hit the road.”

  “Where to?”

  Ivan asked, like a nosy neighbor.

  “None of your business, outsider.”

  Michael Joke said, cold as ice.

  But the second he said it, Billy Jean threw him a curve-ball.

  “Seems like you're an outsider too.”

  Michael Joke's face went from red to purple, and his fists were cracking like walnuts as he clenched them.

  If it was just Ivan, he'd have decked him already.

  But when it came to Billy Jean, he had to swallow his pride.

  He wouldn't lay a finger on her if his life depended on it.

  Ignoring the fuming Michael Joke, Billy Jean said to Ivan,

  “I'm heading to Sea-city with him.”

  The second Ivan heard “Sea-city,” he hit the roof.

  “I don't okay that.”

  Michael Joke's eyes turned to daggers, and he snorted like a bull.

  “Who do you think you are? You think I need your stamp of approval?”

  Ivan blipped out of sight and reappeared in front of Michael Joke in a blink.

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  He grabbed his collar like a vice and growled,

  “Michael, I'm warning you. Don't you dare lay a finger on Jean again. If you've got beef, come at me. She's off-limits.”

  “My woman doesn't need your babysitting.”

  Michael Joke kneed Ivan in the gut so hard it sounded like a cannon going off.

  He wouldn't touch Billy Jean with a ten-foot pole, but when it came to Ivan, he didn't hold back.

  “Ugh...”

  Ivan doubled over like a pretzel, veins popping on his forehead like cords.

  “I'll be damned.”

  Ivan used his body like a battering ram and knocked Michael Joke to the ground.

  The two of them went down in a heap, rolling around like cats and dogs.

  Another brawl between two hunks.

  Billy Jean:...

  An hour later.

  Michael Joke and Ivan were squatting on the ground, their faces looking like they'd gone ten rounds with a prizefighter, all bruised and swollen.

  They were pinching their ears like naughty schoolboys.

  There was a size 36 shoe print on each of their mugs.

  Billy Jean was standing over them, arms crossed, looking down like a judge.

  “Still wanna scrap?”

  For once, they were like two peas in a pod and shook their heads in unison.

  “You swear that if either of you throws a punch again, your Johnson will shrivel up and fall off.”

  Michael Joke:!!

  Ivan:!!

  “Chop-chop.”

  “Billy, are you even a woman?”

  Michael Joke's face was so red it could've lit up a room, and he gritted his teeth like a rabid dog.

  “Cough... Jean, you're a girl. You can't talk like that.”

  Ivan was as red as a tomato, feeling like he'd walked in on his parents.

  Billy Jean gave them a look that said “I dare you.”

  The two of them shouted in unison,

  “If I hit him again, my Johnson will shrivel up and fall off.”

  Neither of them mentioned the other's name, which showed they couldn't stand the sight of each other.

  “I don't okay it. Make him scram.”

  Michael Joke said, his face as dark as a thundercloud.

  Not offing him was already the biggest olive branch he could offer.

  Letting him tag along? No way.

  “If you don't okay it, then we go our separate ways. You do you, and we'll do us.”

  Billy Jean said, her tone as firm as steel.

  “Billy, you wouldn't.”

  Michael Joke's voice shot up an octave, like a soprano on steroids.

  “Ivan, let's roll.”

  Billy Jean turned on her heel and started walking.

  She was showing she wasn't bluffing.

  Michael Joke lunged and grabbed Billy Jean's icy hand, his teeth clenched so hard he could've cracked a walnut.

  “Fine. Let him come if he wants.”

  She was the only one who could make him cave.

  Seeing Michael Joke's soft spot for Billy Jean, Ivan was a bit gobsmacked.

  His behavior didn't seem like he hated the guy.

  It was more like the helplessness of a lovesick puppy.

  Could there have been some mix-up back then?

  Just then.

  Zompige flew into the hotel like a bat out of hell and landed on Billy Jean's shoulder.

  “Coo… Sist Jean, help me. A mob's circled my man's nest. One of them's got a poison mojo and is spewing poison gas. My man can't hold them off much longer. Hurry up and follow me."

  “Roar... Lead the way, pronto."

  Since the Carrion Crows had her back before, Billy Jean wasn't about to leave them high and dry.

  Zompige zipped ahead, leading the way for Billy Jean.

  “Follow.”

  Billy Jean barked out the word and hotfooted it after Zompige out of the hotel.

  Michael Joke and Ivan were in the dark about what Billy Jean and Zompige were yapping about and had no clue what was going down, but following them was the smart move.

  An hour later.

  A military vehicle screeched to a halt outside a forest.

  Three people hopped out, and it was Billy Jean and the crew.

  “Caw caw...”

  There were the ear-piercing screeches of the Carrion Crows and the maniacal laughter of some goons in the forest.

  “Ha ha... Wipe them out. Leave no survivors.”

  “Coo...”

  Zompige flapped its wings like a mad thing and flew into the forest.

  Billy Jean's face was as solemn as a judge sentencing a criminal, and she quick-stepped after it.

  Michael Joke and Ivan were right on her heels.

  Deep in the forest, it was a war zone.

  Giant trees were toppled like dominos.

  There were carcasses of Carrion Crows all over the place, and the stench of blood was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  There was a black cloud of gas hovering over the forest, like a death shroud, forming a poison gas barrier to keep the Carrion Crows trapped.

  Bosraven was spitting fire from its beak like a dragon, leading its henchmen in a desperate bid to break the siege.

  But the attacks from the rear were relentless.

  Poison gas and ice arrows were raining down like hail.

  The Carrion Crows were dropping like flies in a bug zapper.

  “Caw caw...”

  Bosraven was fit to be tied.

  It belched out a humongous flaming fireball, aiming it at the invaders like a cannonball.

  “Whoosh whoosh whoosh...”

  Countless ice blades sliced into the fireball.

  “Boom...”

  The fireball exploded in mid-air like a Fourth of July firework gone wrong.

  The blast was so close, Bosraven was sent flying like a rag-doll.

  “Boom boom...”

  It crashed into a bunch of trees like a bowling ball and finally landed on the ground.

  Bosraven was covered in soot, feathers singed to a crisp, and blood oozing from wounds big and small.

  It was also spitting blood from its beak like a fountain.

  It looked like it'd been through the wringer.

  When the zombie crow underlings saw their leader down for the count, they were frantic to rush over and protect it.

  But they were blocked by the poison ability user, and poison gas was sprayed at them like a flamethrower, knocking out a bunch more.

  The faces of the invaders were lit up like Christmas trees.

  There was no doubt they thought they had this in the bag.

  One of them hollered like a banshee,

  “Victory is ours!”

  “Isn't it a bit early to pop the champagne?”

  A sinister voice cut through the chaos beside them.

  The invaders all whipped their heads around and saw a woman and two men who seemed to have materialized out of thin air.

  When the ice ability user laid eyes on Billy Jean, a disgusting leer flashed across his face like a neon sign.

  “They must be here to steal our crystal cores. Ice the two men. Leave the woman to me.”

  “Kill...”

  Seven or eight goons, brandishing machetes like pirates, charged at Michael Joke and the others.

  At that moment, they saw one of the men vanish into thin air.

  When he reappeared, one of their buddies was already headless.

  “Ability user! They've got an ability user too!”

  Someone screamed like a girl.

  Immediately, their faces went white as sheets.

  It was too late to retreat.

  “Watch out, he's behind you.”

  “Quickly, get away. He's behind you.”

  “Ahhh...”

  Ivan's teleportation was like a phantom.

  He'd pop up behind people out of nowhere.

  By the time they realized what was happening, their heads were already rolling.

  Michael Joke and Billy Jean didn't even have to lift a finger.

  The seven or eight goons were all taken care of by Ivan.

  Mainly because his teleportation made him impossible to track.

  One second he was a hundred meters away, and the next he was silently lurking behind someone's back.

  The poison ability user and the ice ability user's faces were as ugly as sin.

  They thought they had victory in the palm of their hand, but who knew some wild card would show up and in the blink of an eye, it was just the two of them left standing.

  They looked at each other and charged at Ivan together.

  “If you mess with us, we'll make sure you regret the day you were born.”