By morning, a root thick as Felicity's wrist had shoved the delivery gate far enough out of line that the bolt slid into open air. She put a hand through the gap and lifted the latch from outside. It was an excellent demonstration. It would have been better if a dead man on the other side hadn't reached in to take her hand.
She jerked back. Ash pinned the fingers with a boot while Victor finished the rest through the bars. "I liked that gate," she said, trying to rub the cold feeling off her knuckles. "It was the only door in the place that didn't lead straight into somebody's breakfast."
"We'll find you another one." Victor called Finch for the map. They needed thick walls, a way onto the roof and two doors they could actually defend. Finch knew an old bank several blocks south. Rose took the east side of the street with half the crew while Victor and Voss kept the rest close to the supplies. Felicity took her ledger and the pencil stub she'd been using to keep count. It seemed a little early in her marriage to find out what happened when she told Victor he'd mislaid thirty cans of peaches.
They'd barely cleared the block when Finch smelled fresh blood coming up the lane beside a shuttered florist. Felicity could hear six pairs of feet. The broken window on their right reflected the street behind her, giving her a fine view of a seventh set of teeth. "There's one in the shop!" she called, just as the first six came around the corner.
Vines shot out from Rose's forearms. One wrapped two of the dead together at the knees. Another went through the window and took a row of ceramic pots with it. Rose stared after them in disbelief. Apparently she'd meant to grow considerably less plant than that. Finch got in under the whipping stems and put his claws through the skull of the thing behind the glass.
The rest came down on the men carrying food. Felicity could have made Finch hit twice as hard. He was already strong enough to put a man's head through a wall. What the team needed was three seconds to get their hands free. She sent her light along the line of men holding the crates, the way she'd helped Finch push the pharmacy shelf, and watched to see how much it took.
Ash got his end up onto the ledge. Sarge swung the next crate up beside it without crushing the fingers under the far end. Giddy bounded over both men, brought his big feet down together, and knocked a zombie flat with the shock. The first wave of light had made him jump several feet farther than he'd meant to. She eased off him before his next jump went through somebody's bedroom.
Voss had his back against a post, keeping a dead woman from getting at her around the crates. He watched Felicity's hands. "Whatever you just did to Giddy, could you do it in reverse? I've spent all morning persuading him to stop launching himself at buildings."
"I'm getting picky about who gets how much. I could leave you exactly as you are if you've got complaints." She let a little warmth into his arm. His next shove sent the dead woman backward into Rose's vines. The look on his face when she took her light away made the effort thoroughly worthwhile.
"Watching my hands while I'm working is becoming a habit of yours," she added, when they were finally able to step over the fallen and pick up their crates.
"It's how I know when you've had enough. You start rubbing your thumb against this finger." He touched the side of his own knuckle to show her. She'd been doing it just then. Half the street had seen her make a kangaroo jump over a car hood. Voss had watched closely enough to see where the magic started hurting.
Victor gave her water and sat with her on the low wall outside the flower shop. She rested her forehead between his shoulder blades while he checked the map. One oily feather stuck to her mouth, and he heard her spit it out. "Marriage is a beautiful thing," she muttered into his shirt. His shoulders moved with a laugh.
Rose came back for the bottle. Her vine had left a long scrape in the brick beside her and a matching welt on her arm. She looked about as pleased with her new power as Felicity had been when she'd first put her hand on her own tail.
"That joke at breakfast hurt," Felicity told her, before either of them could find a reason to leave. "I liked having you at the table. It was a pretty rotten minute to find out you were keeping score."
Rose sat down at the other end of the wall. "I walked in and nobody gave a damn where I'd been all morning. I wanted somebody to look up. I got a laugh out of making them look at you again, which really ought to tell you how well I thought that through."
Felicity bumped their shoulders together. "Next time, tell me where you went. I'd have liked hearing about four grown people trying to find a bathtub plug."
The corner of Rose's mouth lifted. She took the empty bottle and offered Felicity a hand up. When the next block brought them another pocket of dead, Rose kept the vines low. Felicity sent just enough light into the fighters' legs to help them step over the vines without slowing down. The two women got three laden men clear of the crossing without losing so much as a can.
Beyond the florist, the stone bank rose three floors above a street full of stalled cars. Bars still covered its windows, and the side door stood open. Felicity would have been delighted to see the place if a creature in a cracked motorcycle helmet hadn't stepped into that doorway, seen them coming and deliberately backed out of sight. The walking dead she'd met so far had never let a meal go past. This one was waiting for the rest of the team to turn the corner.