5 Working in small batches, fry the wings, turning occasionally, until they are crisp and golden brown, 5 to 7 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove the wings from the oil and drain on a paper towel–lined baking sheet. Put the wings in a large bowl and toss with the Sriracha butter. Transfer to a platter and serve hot with additional lime wedges.
Serve with colorful cock-tail napkins. Unexpected combat with greasy hands can cost lives.
HOW IS THAT PREPARED?
Ronnie grabbed a key from her father’s house and walked to the backyard, past two decaying pit bulls still chained to a post.
“Here,” she said, testing the ground with her feet.
Trey peeled up a swatch of Astroturf and uncovered a damp metal door sunk in the lawn. Ronnie turned the key and pulled up hard.
“It’s jammed,” she said.
They had to attach the dogs’ choke chains to the handle and pull them with the delivery van to loosen the stuck hatch. The door finally pulled open with a dry squeal. Sour air escaped from the hole.
Pam shook her head and started down the aluminum ladder holding a flashlight. She called her ex-husband’s name.
“Ed, you down here? We need a place to stay. I got Ronnie with me. And Earl.” She looked back at the truck. “Sort of.”
A pathetic slurping sound answered from the dark hole. Pam shot back up the ladder.
Out of the hatch behind her popped a pale, chewed-up carcass in fatigues and the camo hunting hat she’d once bought her ex-husband for his birthday. His face was twisted with fury.
She hesitated, then dropped the hatch lid on him, cutting him in two. His top half crawled across the lawn and grabbed at her ankles until she brained him with the cleaver. Her ex oozed onto the neglected lawn.
The bunker was lined with a couple of iron bunks, a wide-screen TV, and metal shelves crammed with bottled water and canned food. One of the bunks held the corpse of Ed’s younger second wife, Angela, her middle gnawed out.
“Guess they pretty much ate each other up,” Trey remarked. “Ain’t one of these cans been opened.”
Pam sighed and slumped down on the lawn.
Just like you, Ed. Got yourself stuck in your own shelter with a ton of food and no can opener.
CRABBY PREPPER PUFFS
makes 16 crabby puffs (serves 6 to 8 as an appetizer)
8 ounces jumbo lump crabmeat, picked
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 lemons, zested and juiced
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
½ teaspoon Worcestershire
1 teaspoon hot sauce or Sriracha
2 scallions, thinly sliced (about 3 tablespoons)
Coarse kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
16 slices white bread
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 In a medium bowl, mix together the crabmeat, shallot, lemon zest, half of the lemon juice, mayonnaise, Worcestershire, and hot sauce. Stir in three-quarters of the scallions and season with salt and pepper.
2 Use a 3-inch round cutter to cut the bread slices into rounds, and place the rounds on a baking sheet. (Save the scraps for bread crumbs if you like.)
3 Preheat the broiler. Whisk together the butter and the remaining lemon juice. Use a pastry brush to brush one side of each bread round with the lemon butter. Place under the broiler and broil until the rounds are golden brown, 30 to 45 seconds. Carefully flip over the rounds and brush with the remaining lemon butter. Top each with a heaping tablespoon of the crab mixture. Return the baking sheet to the broiler and broil until the crab mixture is heated through and the toasts are browned, about 1 to 2 minutes.
4 Sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper, garnish with the remaining scallions, and serve warm.
Most canned goods stay at peak condition for 3-5 years unopened. Statistically, in an outbreak, canned crab will outlast most survivors.
THAT’S GONNA STAIN
Trey’s pulse quickened at the smear of slime across his hand. He touched his tongue to it. It was the real thing. Wild blueberries! Trey felt he had finally found something to make the whole group happy.
They’d been trying to get to Fort Benning for weeks, but the truck was not fast and most of the roads were blocked with abandoned cars. Finally they had run out of gas. With little to eat but Ed’s canned spam they were all in a foul mood.
When Trey returned at dusk, Pam quickly mixed a batter from the ripe berries and the last of her precious ingredients. She placed improvised muffin tins in a Dutch oven, and heaped it with hot coals in the fire.
Each of them—except for Earl, who was tied to the truck bumper with the dogs’ choke chains—watched the pot in anticipation. Finally Trey had to get up to pee.
Pam was about to call him back when an agonized scream came from behind the truck.
Pam picked up Trey’s pizza peel. A biter came around the vehicle from Trey’s direction. Pam wheeled and thrust the peel just as Trey had once shown her. Hot brains smeared the side of the truck.
She found Trey on the ground with a gruesome bite wound in his shoulder. Several walkers were tripping over one another to get to him.
“You got to brain me,” he gasped. “Pam, I’m so sorry.”
A red mist descended over Pam’s vision as she attacked the biters. Ronnie had picked up the cleaver and dispatched a corpse in climbing gear as humanely as she could.
Finally, Ronnie fought her way back to Pam, standing vigil over Trey. The walkers just kept coming. She pulled hard at her mother’s arm and shouted. They fled their campsite with nothing but the pizza peel, the cleaver, and the clothes on their backs. The walkers followed.
Trey’s lifeless eyes reflected the stars, while Earl fidgeted against his chains on the truck’s bumper. From the fire, the Dutch oven exuded a warm aroma of fresh muffins.
FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY BLUEBERRY MUFFINS
makes 1½ dozen muffins
Butter or paper liners for muffin tin
12 tablespoons (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1½ cups sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk
2½ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 pint fresh blueberries, stemmed
1 Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease 18 muffin cups or line with paper liners.
2 Using an electric mixer, violently cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy and subdued, about 5 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, scraping down the bowl in between additions. Mix in the vanilla and buttermilk.