Cincinnati Apocalypse Part 5

"Well, I was just wondering-which one of you is the-well, you know-the 'guy.'"

Kennedy spluttered. "It doesn't work like that. Not exactly."

"Oh."

They walked a few steps in silence.

Michelle was afraid she might have insulted or offended Kennedy. Then, Kennedy whispered, "Willow is, but don't tell her I told you so."

Michelle smiled, relieved that she hadn't offended her newfound friend. "Your secret's safe with me."

Ahead, Riley said, "Even by night, Rio's beautiful. It must be breathtaking by day."

"It is," Willow agreed. "Seen from the foot of the statue of Christ the Redeemer, the cluttered blocks of high-rise buildings shrink to inconsequential, barely noticeable toy size; the beach is a crescent sliver of white, beyond which the blue Atlantic ripples serenely; the great egg shape of Sugarloaf rises from its green-cloaked base, a stone tower against both sea; and, beyond, a ring of craggy peaks fade into the distance, merging with the sky."

"Wow, Willow!" Riley said. "You should have been a poet. "Michelle and I got here a week ago, and we've seen a little of the town, but I wouldn't have been able to describe it like you did."

The witch blushed. "Thanks."

"The beaches are beautiful, too."

"Yeah, there's something about that white sand."

"I wasn't talking about the sand. The other day, I saw the most amazing blonde, wearing a bright red-orange thong bikini. She was stooped over, splashing water onto her ankles and calves, and-"

Willow giggled. "Down, boy!"

"Her ass was tanned, like the rest of her. It was smooth and tight and perfect, just like-"

"'Down, boy,' I said. Heel!" Willow gave him a mischievous smile. "You want Michelle to know you're checking out the feminine pulchritude?"

Riley laughed. "I think she knows."

A shrill beep-beep-beep pierced the air.