The apartment buzzed with an unusual level of energy as the group gathered around Mallory's makeshift dining table. The recent trip outside had left everyone slightly rattled, but also invigorated by their success.
Zara was inspecting her bat for dents, Altair tinkered with yet another one of his gadgets, and Vanessa was busy cataloging their newly acquired supplies. Mallory, however, had other things on her mind—namely, food.
"Alright," Mallory announced, slamming her hands on the table. "We need pizza."
The group fell silent, blinking at her as if she'd just declared her intention to ride a zombie like a horse.
"Pizza?" Greg echoed, his tone incredulous.
"Yes, pizza," Mallory said, crossing her arms. "You know, hot, cheesy, with a crispy crust? We have canned beans and stale crackers, and I'm losing my will to live."
"You had two bags of chips this morning," Altair pointed out, not looking up from his gadget.
Mallory waved a hand dismissively. "Those were appetizers. I'm talking about a real meal."
Vanessa sighed. "Mallory, in case you forgot, the world ended. There's no delivery guy out there waiting to bring you a pepperoni special."
"Exactly," Mallory replied. "Which is why we need to find it ourselves. Somewhere out there is a pizza place with a stash of frozen pies just waiting for us to liberate them."
Zara snorted. "You want us to risk our lives for pizza?"
"Yes," Mallory said without hesitation.
"Why am I not surprised?" Jules muttered, earning a glare from Mallory.
Vanessa pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is ridiculous."
"Ridiculously genius," Altair corrected, suddenly intrigued. "Think about it. A pizza run could boost morale, provide carbs for energy, and—it would be fun."
Greg whimpered. "Fun isn't the word I'd use…"
Zara leaned back in her chair, grinning. "You know what? I'm in. I want to see how this plays out."
Mallory clapped her hands. "That's the spirit!"
Vanessa sighed again, clearly outvoted. "Fine. But if we die, I'm haunting you."
---
The plan was set, and the group prepared for their second venture outside. This time, their target was a pizzeria Mallory vaguely remembered seeing a few blocks away before the apocalypse began.
Altair packed his usual assortment of questionable gadgets, while Zara brought extra weapons, just in case. Greg tried to convince himself he could handle another outing by muttering, "It's just pizza. We're not fighting dragons."
Mallory, meanwhile, was unusually motivated, leading the charge with an uncharacteristic spring in her step.
---
The streets were eerily quiet as they approached the pizzeria. The building stood out with its faded red-and-white awning and a cartoonish sign of a chef holding a pizza.
"Looks promising," Mallory said, squinting at the windows.
"Or like a death trap," Greg muttered.
The group cautiously entered, weapons at the ready. The interior was surprisingly intact, with tables still set and a faint smell of oregano lingering in the air.
"Alright," Mallory declared. "Let's find the freezer."
They moved carefully through the pizzeria, checking for any signs of danger. Altair discovered a pile of menus and immediately pocketed one.
"For nostalgia," he explained when Zara raised an eyebrow.
Mallory headed straight for the kitchen, her eyes lighting up when she spotted a large industrial freezer.
"This is it," she said, pulling the handle. The door creaked open, revealing stacks of frozen pizza boxes.
"Jackpot!" Mallory cheered.
---
The group's triumph was short-lived. As they began hauling out the pizzas, a low growl echoed through the building.
"What was that?" Greg whispered, clutching his spear.
"I don't know," Zara replied, tightening her grip on her bat.
The growling grew louder, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. A pack of zombies emerged from the shadows, their decayed faces twisted with hunger.
"Of course," Mallory muttered. "It's never easy, is it?"
The group sprang into action. Zara swung her bat with practiced precision, taking down the first zombie with a sickening crunch. Altair activated one of his gadgets—a small device that emitted a loud, disorienting noise.
Greg panicked, jabbing his spear wildly and managing to impale a zombie by sheer luck.
Mallory, meanwhile, grabbed a pizza box and used it as a makeshift shield. "Back off, you undead freaks! This is my dinner!"
Her unorthodox strategy worked surprisingly well, as the zombies seemed confused by her aggressive waving.
"Mallory!" Vanessa shouted. "Stop playing with your food and help!"
"I am helping!" Mallory shot back, hurling the pizza box at a zombie's head.
---
After a chaotic and comedic battle, the group managed to subdue the small horde. Panting and covered in zombie goo, they regrouped in the kitchen.
"Well, that was horrifying," Greg said, trembling.
"Agreed," Vanessa added, wiping her brow.
Mallory, however, was unbothered. She picked up a slightly dented pizza box and grinned. "Worth it."
Zara laughed, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."
Altair inspected the freezer, nodding in approval. "We've got enough pizzas to last us a while. Good call, Mallory."
Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Let's just get out of here before more show up."
---
The journey back to the apartment was uneventful, much to everyone's relief. Once inside, they celebrated their victory by firing up the apartment's oven and baking their hard-earned pizzas.
The aroma filled the air, lifting everyone's spirits. Even Greg managed a smile as he took his first bite.
"This is amazing," he said, his eyes wide.
"Told you it was worth it," Mallory said, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin.
Vanessa shook her head but couldn't help smiling. "You're lucky you're right."
Altair raised a slice in a mock toast. "To Mallory, the laziest yet most effective scavenger we've ever known."
Mallory laughed, raising her own slice. "To pizza—and to never settling for canned beans again."
The group clinked their slices together, their laughter echoing through the apartment.