[mrnoodle]

He grinned; an incomplete, but beautifully white, set of teeth flashing at the girl. "My name?". A chuckle. "Miss, if I ever had a name, it sure as hell don't mean anything now."

He turned and pointed out the front of the bus. "If it's food you're after, you're headed the right way." Half of his grin returned, but it was a nervous reaction, not the hi-beam he had turned on at first. "But there's no one alive. Not a soul."

He eased his large frame tiredly onto the frontmost seat and leaned his head back, eyes closed. One was reminded of an animatronic Disneyland character being shut off for the night; there was no relaxation, no sigh of relief. Just a cessation of movement.

The others looked at each other, mouthing opinions, suggestions, unspoken fears about this strange nameless newcomer and his intentions. The quiet tension built as people nervously tried to edge past the long leg in the aisleway. When the man spoke, several almost screamed, so wound up they were. This resulted in the same half-grin as before.

"Monroe," said the grin. "You can call me Monroe if it makes you feel better. You think I'm a bad man? Why? Because I'm large or because I'm a black male?"

A quiet, sad chuckle. "Some things don't change even after the apocalypse." He nodded his head forward. "Up ahead there's a peach cannery. On the left, you'll remember it. Hope you ain't allergic to peaches, because that's all there is...except for the peanuts, they were in the breakroom. I wouldn't recommend going in there, though." A slight shudder, then back to the animatronic half-slumber.