31. Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Cason
The feed store isn’t huge, nor did it sell anything related to fencing beyond a few metal posts and bags of concrete. However, there’s plenty of lumber and at a minimum we can close up the open areas of the existing fencing to prevent any stragglers from finding their way through.
It won’t stop a large group of them but what could? Probably not anything we can build quickly, and my goal is to make this as safe as possible before heading out.
Realistically, if a swarm came through the better bet would be to leave which should be planned when we return to the house.
Now that we’ve loaded up as much wood as we can, we split up to find any other items worth bringing back now. There’s more to take then we can fit, and we should return for it later, although without knowing who else we might be competing with for supplies, we shouldn’t wait too long.
However, if I do leave, it won't be me coming back to raid this store again.
Fuck.
“Lotta good shit,” Larry says, stopping beside me and running his fingers over a shelf. “Wonder if we should make more than one trip?”
Apparently on the same page, I nod toward the door and say, “Let’s load up what we can. The sun's going down soon, and I’d like to be back at the farm before darkness hits.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he says, and I eye his ruddy cheeks. Larry’s a big guy but I worry about his ability to keep going if something goes down. He seems to tire quickly and that’s a death sentence in this new world.
We make quick work of loading what we can but to truly work on the fence and other measures to keep out the damned, we need a bigger truck.
Even as I think it, I glance at the clock still ticking against the wall. Time continues to run down even though it feels like we’re frozen in place, and I shrug off the kernel of unease when Jason shouts from the door, “Incoming. Human variety.”
In a perfect world, finding more living breathing people would be something to look forward to, however humans were assholes before the end and that means they’re still assholes now.
Grabbing my gun, I approach Jason standing at the door while Larry appears from the right. The truck eases into the lot, and I watch the two men in the cab bounce around as they traverse the potholes, leaving plumes of dust in their wake.
When they pull alongside the door and stop, the man in the passenger seat eyes Jason before his gaze slides to mine and hovers over my shoulder.
“Howdy,” he says, tipping his head. The brim covers his eyes and when he turns back to me, I spy his gnarled fingers, tapping against the door.
In the driver's seat, a younger man, closer to my age sits with both hands resting on the wheel which leaves one possible threat unaccounted for and when I move back to the older man, his lips tilt into a weary smile and he raises his other hand.
Bracing for a confrontation, I only ease when he reveals his empty fingers before turning so both hands are in view out the window.
Now our turn, he raises a brow, and Jason steps out the door, his hands at his sides. Larry follows his palms out and I put the gun we took from that fucker at the funeral home in the band of my pants, before stepping onto the sidewalk.
Seemingly satisfied, the older man says, “Seen you out at the Colter ranch. How’s Harry and the wife doing?”
“He’s a little confused these days,” I say, “but she takes good care of him.”
The man’s faded blue eyes search mine before he smiles, the skin crinkling and says, “That’s real good to hear. You tell ‘em old Bob said hi, yeah?”
“You the only ones around?” I ask and he scratches his head.
“Naw, few of us survived but not enough."
“Pops,” the younger guy says, and the old man nods.
With a grim smile for us, he says, “Gotta get back to our people. You wanna talk, maybe figure something out, we meet with a few other families on Mondays. Next round is at my place. Harry and the wife should be able to tell you where to find us. Bob’s place, yeah? ”
The man’s sharp, I’ll give him that. Unless he’s listed somewhere as Bob, we won’t find him without validating with someone he trusts where he lives.
“Will do,” I say, while Larry nods beside me.
We could use allies but revealing our strengths and weaknesses is also a risk. It’s a cluster fuck either way, I concede as Bob taps the door, and his son puts the truck in gear.
“Oh hey,” Bob says, and I turn, my hand sliding to my back.
Bob grins but the faded twinkle in his eyes flashes a hint of warning when he says, “There’s a couple going around, stealing and such.
Heard they got to Pearl and Eddie right before this started.
Not sure if they’re still around, but worth knowing. ”
“Thanks,” Larry says, and we watch while they slowly drive away.
Once they’re out of sight, I say, “Let’s go.”
There’s an itch in the back of my neck telling me to get back to the farm and I never ignore my instincts.
Shelby
The night feels endless while I drift between dreams of another time before startling awake, only to complete the process again.
Logically, I know that Cason is the strongest member of our group and if anyone is going to survive it’s him.
Besides once he’s gone, I may never know if he made it to safety or lived long enough to create a life.
Regardless, my stomach churns with thoughts I can’t let go of and the worry circling my brain keeps pushing me into wakefulness when my body begs for the release of relaxation.
It’s early morning when I pop my eyes open once again and glance out the window, confirming it’s still dark outside although I see a faint glimmer of light at the horizon. The star lit backdrop soothes my frazzled thoughts until a weird sensation rolls through me.
It starts with the prickling at my neck before goosebumps cascade along my skin followed by a shiver that rushes up my spine.
Carefully, I flick my eyes toward the edge of the bed and confirm someone is standing over me.
For the briefest of moments, warmth fills my chest before it turns to ice and I whisper, “Lottie? Are you okay?”
With nothing but the light of the moon to see by, I slowly ball my hand into a fist when Lottie meets my gaze, an undefinable emotion passing over her features. The silvery strands of her hair halo her face in a messy ball while her mouth forms a thin line.
She doesn’t respond though and I’m swallowing past the lump that rose in my throat when she spins on her heel and walks away, her nightdress swinging around her knees.
Although the only sound between us was my whispered question, the silence that lingers fills me with dread and I roll over before sitting up. Was she sleepwalking?
She looked me dead in the eyes but why didn’t she respond if she needed something?
My feet whisper across the floor as I approach the hall and peek my head around just as the door to Lottie and Harry’s room closes.
With a shiver I step into the hall but jump back when a little voice squeaks behind me, “I had a bad dream.”
Spinning around, I find Zoey at the end of the hall near the base of the stairs and grab my chest, whispering, “You scared the sh-snot out of me."
When she dips her chin, I say, “It’s okay. Do you want to tell me about your dream?”
With a shake of her head, she launches into my arms, and I cradle her against my chest before resting my cheek on her silky hair.
It’s easy to forget in the constant melee of survival that this little girl has experienced more in her young life than most. I’d be surprised if she didn’t have nightmares at this point.
“Sh,” I say, rocking her gently and rubbing my hand down her back. After a moment, she subsides and pulls away.
When she meets my gaze, her eyes troubled, I hug her close as she says, “I don’t want to go back up there.”
“Okay,” I say, brushing her hair behind her ear. “How about we go in there?”
When I point to the parlor she nods and leads the way. Following I glance back at the door to Lottie’s room before focusing on Zoey who’s waiting for me by the couch.
After we’re both seated, I take the blanket resting along the back and spread it across our legs. Seemingly content, Zoey snuggles against my side and asks, “Do you think they’re coming back?”
“I do,” I say, although I don’t know if I’m lying. I want it to be true and that will have to do because there’s no sense in frightening the girl when she’s already uneasy.
Her exhale matches mine before she whispers, “I don’t like it here.”
“Oh?” I say unsure how to respond. I haven’t decided how I feel about staying here beyond the lonely sensation creeping through my soul at the thought of Cason leaving us behind.
“Yeah,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s creepy.”
“Creepy how?”
“Do you feel it?” she whispers.
“Feel what, sweetie?”
“I don’t know,” she says, her blue eyes meeting mine. “It feels empty.”
At her words, a shiver rolls down my spine, but I hide it behind a smile that I suspect neither of us believes as I glance around the shadowed room with new eyes.