Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Asia
I grabbed my pliers and headed to the fence. I was stopped by a zombie. From the looks of it, he was an old man. Like Irv.
Like Uncle Levi.
He lurched towards me, but I didn’t move. I felt stuck. Powerless.
But I wasn’t powerless. I glanced over at Jack, who stood next to me now.
And I wasn’t alone.
Jack came to me, and together, we moved, letting the rhythm of survival lull us. He took the zombie down with one efficient strike and then loaded it into the wheelbarrow while I went back to tending the fences.
As I worked, I stared at the land, my gaze lingering on the mound of dirt that covered Caitlin. Flatter now than when it was fresh. Two wildflowers tried to push their way through. I decided then I’d let those flowers grow.
We didn’t have time to rebuild the smokehouse, but Elliot had drawn up plans for something simple that would work. I stared at the charred spot where it was, and instead of seeing what we’d lost, I imagined what would take its place.
Walked the fence, searching for holes, for weaknesses, that I, mercifully, didn’t find.
I settled on the porch as the sun slipped beyond the horizon and a dark that was fraught with stillness settled over the farm.
The rocking chair creaked when I leaned back, and I let myself smile. There were two on the porch, identical to the eye, but the one I sat in made a small creak when it rocked. Not loud, but enough to tell the difference between the two. I’d switched them once to see if Aunt Kathleen would notice.
She had, of course, and Uncle Levi tsked at me trying to get one over on her. Said he’d tried for years and still hadn’t managed so I should give up and focus on a less hopeless cause.
Jack settled into the chair next to me, his back straight.
I chuckled. “I bet you love rollercoasters.”
“Fucking hate them.”
“That checks out,” I said, a soft smile on my face.
He slid his gaze towards me. “That chair creaks. Want me to fix it?”
I shook my head. “No.” I leaned back against the rocking chair, tried to let that near-silent creak soothe me. “This isn’t over. He’ll be back.”
Didn’t realize I’d reached out until Jack’s fingers, warm, strong, squeezed mine. “We’ll be ready.”