The pizzeria escapade had been such a rousing success that the apartment was alive with newfound confidence. The scent of melted cheese still lingered in the air, and Altair was busy sketching plans for a pizza-themed security system using Mallory's oven (much to her annoyance).
Meanwhile, Mallory lounged on the couch, idly flipping through a scavenged magazine. Her stomach growled faintly, already craving something new.
"You know what we need next?" Mallory said, tossing the magazine aside.
"Please don't say it," Vanessa groaned from her spot at the table, reorganizing the first aid kit.
"Pasta," Mallory said with a dreamy sigh. "Fettuccine Alfredo, spaghetti Bolognese, lasagna—ooh, lasagna sounds nice."
Zara, perched on the arm of the couch, let out a bark of laughter. "Let me guess—you want us to raid an Italian restaurant this time?"
Mallory grinned. "Exactly! You're catching on, Zara."
Greg, who had been nibbling on the last slice of pizza, looked up with wide eyes. "Do we really have to go outside again? That last trip was… a lot."
"Relax, Greg," Mallory said, patting his shoulder. "It'll be fun. And think of the reward: endless pasta. We could even make garlic bread."
"Now she's speaking my language," Altair said, pulling out a notebook. "I've already got ideas for a portable pasta maker."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Vanessa interjected, though there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Do you even know where to find pasta?"
Mallory shrugged. "There's gotta be an Italian place around here. Or a grocery store. Worst case, we'll find some flour and eggs and make it from scratch."
Zara raised an eyebrow. "You? Make pasta from scratch?"
"Okay, fine," Mallory admitted. "I'll watch while one of you makes it from scratch."
---
After some debate, the group agreed to venture out again. Altair located a promising lead on a map: a small grocery store nestled in a residential area about a mile away. The location seemed manageable, and everyone was eager to stock up on essentials beyond just pasta.
Mallory, of course, was fixated on her culinary goal.
"If they don't have Parmesan cheese," she declared as they prepared to leave, "we riot."
---
The journey to the grocery store was surprisingly calm. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional distant groan of zombies. Vanessa led the way with her crossbow drawn, while Zara kept a sharp eye on their surroundings.
Mallory, walking in the middle of the group, couldn't resist making commentary.
"This feels like one of those TV shows," she said, gesturing dramatically. "You know, where the ragtag survivors bond over shared trauma and canned peaches."
"Except the canned peaches have teeth," Greg muttered, clutching his spear tightly.
Altair chuckled. "If this were a TV show, Mallory, you'd definitely be the comedic relief."
"I'd be the fan favorite," Mallory corrected.
---
They reached the grocery store without incident, though the building's façade showed signs of past skirmishes. The windows were cracked, and the front door hung loosely on its hinges.
Vanessa motioned for the group to stay quiet as they entered. The interior was dimly lit, with rows of shelves stretching into the shadows. Most of the store had been picked clean, but there were still pockets of untouched goods.
"Alright, team," Vanessa whispered. "Stick together and stay alert. Let's make this quick."
Mallory immediately veered toward the dry goods aisle, her eyes scanning for pasta.
"Focus, Mallory," Vanessa hissed.
"I am focused," Mallory whispered back. "Focused on linguine."
She found what she was looking for a moment later: a dusty shelf lined with boxes of various pasta shapes.
"Jackpot," Mallory breathed, grabbing a box of spaghetti. "And look—rigatoni! This is the best day ever."
---
As the group worked their way through the store, tensions began to rise. The distant sound of shuffling feet grew louder, and Vanessa's sharp eyes caught glimpses of movement beyond the broken windows.
"Zombies incoming," she warned.
"How many?" Zara asked, gripping her bat.
"Too many," Vanessa replied.
Greg's face went pale. "Maybe we should—"
Before he could finish, a loud crash echoed from the back of the store.
"Mallory!" Vanessa snapped.
"What?!" Mallory called back from the next aisle. "I didn't do anything!"
"Then what was that noise?"
"I don't know, but I got the last jar of Alfredo sauce, so you're welcome!"
---
The noise had attracted a swarm of zombies, and the group quickly found themselves cornered.
"Time to go!" Vanessa shouted, firing a bolt at an approaching zombie.
Zara swung her bat with gusto, taking down two zombies in one hit. "Mallory, move your butt!"
"I'm not leaving without the Parmesan!" Mallory yelled, darting toward the refrigerated section.
Greg whimpered, jabbing his spear at a zombie that got too close. "We're all gonna die over cheese!"
Altair, ever the tinkerer, pulled out a smoke bomb from his bag. "Cover your mouths!" he said, tossing it into the horde.
The room filled with thick, acrid smoke, giving the group just enough cover to escape.
---
They burst out of the store, panting and disheveled, but alive. Mallory cradled her bag of pasta and cheese like a treasure chest.
"That was unnecessarily dramatic," Vanessa said, glaring at Mallory.
"But look!" Mallory said, holding up the jar of Alfredo sauce. "Totally worth it."
Greg groaned. "I need to lie down."
Zara laughed, clapping him on the back. "You did good, Greg. Even if you look like you're about to faint."
Altair grinned. "And hey, no one can say we don't commit to our goals."
---
Back at the apartment, the group celebrated their victory by cooking a massive pasta feast. Mallory insisted on overseeing the preparation, though Vanessa had to step in to prevent her from adding an entire block of Parmesan to the sauce.
The meal was a hit, and for the first time in weeks, the group felt a sense of normalcy. They laughed, joked, and even managed to forget about the apocalypse for a little while.
As they cleaned up, Mallory leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh.
"See?" she said, gesturing to the empty plates. "Totally worth it."
Vanessa shook her head but smiled. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you love me," Mallory replied with a wink.
Zara chuckled. "One thing's for sure—life with you is never boring."
Altair raised a glass of scavenged soda. "To Mallory, queen of carbs and chaos!"
The group toasted, their laughter echoing through the apartment. Despite the challenges they faced, they knew one thing for certain: together, they could handle anything. Even if it was just for the sake of pasta.