chapter thirteen

It’s a strange, haphazard path.

We cross crumbling bridges that nearly collapse beneath our feet. We march along freeways that have become zombie-filled parking lots. We pass gas stations that are now home to giant, sleeping slugs that sip on gasoline while they snore.

It’s a long walk—and Johnny Steve talks the entire freaking time.

“I am just so thrilled to chat with a bona fide human!” he explains. “My previous attempts at communication have not gone well.”

“That was a zombie,” I say. “You’ve been talking to zombies.”

It turns out, though, that Johnny Steve doesn’t actually much care what I think about human life. Instead, HE wants to tell ME about being human. He rattles off a list of his favorite human facts. . . .

1.) Humans can breathe underwater, but they choose not to (because of the odor).

2.) Humans didn’t always have hair. However, they were cursed by a magical being known as the Hair Bear and humans now have too much hair. No more feathers or scales. Also, the Hair Bear lives in North Dakota in a beautiful motorhome.

3.) “The most famous human in the history of human history” is a wizard named Barry Potter.

“Okay, hold up!” I say. This guy can mangle human anatomy all day long—but I will not let him mess with HP. “It’s HARRY Potter.”

Johnny Steve gives me a quizzical look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs. “Harry Potter is a fictional wizard from a book!”

“Wait. But, you said—”

“Also,” I add, getting a little peeved, “I AM a human! So you don’t need to explain human stuff to me. Don’t you think I’d know if I could breathe underwater? No human can. Except for Kevin Costner. And I don’t know what that means, but I heard Jack say it once in his sleep.”

“Oh, indeed!” Johnny Steve says. “No one can breathe underwater like Kevin Costner! He’s top-notch! But you’re certainly able. You just haven’t tried hard enough.”

For a moment, I wonder if Neon had the right idea when he almost ate Johnny Steve’s face.

Now, though—Neon’s in his own world. He’s like the world’s most untrained, out of control, harebrained puppy. He just keeps rushing ahead, eating stuff, breaking stuff, then hurrying back to us like, See? See what I did there? Did you see me eat that street sign? Wasn’t that just AMAZING?

“There,” Johnny Steve says, interrupting my train of thought. He’s pointing ahead. “We need to cross that to get the creature to his family.”

My heart sinks.