Zoey wandered through what she know thought had to have been the apartment of the former pawnshop owners. She found a bathroom near the end of the hall. It was small, but there was a rectangular standing shower inside. That was all that mattered to her. Zoey stepped inside, started to close the door, then thought better of it and decided not to. Something might happen, and she couldn't chance getting stuck in such a tiny room.
She put her tank top down in the basin of the sink, then began taking off the rest of her clothes. Zoey found a relatively clean, if dusty towel, on a shelf. She put her pistol down on the toilet seat, making sure it was within arm's distance of the transparent glass sliding shower door. She reached inside and turned the different knobs until the slightly rusted showerhead sputtered to life. Zoey continued fiddling with the knobs until the water was hot enough to burn the scent and feel of vanquished zombies off of her skin.
Zoey washed her skin, and then her hair. She tried to ignored the images of her straddling Nathan that flashed before her when she closed her eyes, but that didn't make them go away. Zoey sighed as she turned around and lifted her face to the spray of hard water.
She had to admit, to herself at least, that for whatever reason she found herself drawn to Nathan. Maybe it was because she was so glad to be in the company of someone with a pulse. Maybe because he wasn't a panicky good-for-nothing like Louis had originally been, old like Bill, or pervy like Francis. He was something new, and she liked that. Did she mention that he was alive?
Zoey decided not to think about it anymore. She shook her head and pushed her thoughts aside as she opened the glass door enough to grab her clothes, then washed them, and then got out.