Page 97 of One Adult, Please

"Yeah." She doesn't shy away from the topic. "Is that... are you okay with that? Because I don't know the rules. I don't think there are rules. Nobody gave me a manual for this particular apocalypse scenario and I'm kind of making it up as I go."

"I'm okay with it. There aren't rules," I say. "Not pre-established ones. You build the rules as you go. That's how social structures work in novel environments."

"That sounds very science-y for 'I don't know either.'"

"It is very science-y for 'I don't know either.'"

She laughs. The sound makes Captain ruffle his feathers in acknowledgment. Fernando lifts his head slightly, confirms that the noise is just Grace, and goes back to being unbothered.

"I like you, Grant," she says. "I don't know what it's going to turn into. But I like you and I wanted you to know that."

"I like you too," I say. "I've liked you since you asked me if the capybaras had opinions about the political situation."

"They do have opinions. Fernando is clearly a centrist. Diego is more radical. You can tell by the way he looks at authority figures."

"You can't tell political leanings from capybara eye contact."

"You can't tell me that. You can only tell yourself that. I have my own system."

She grins at me. I smile back.

In the enclosure, Diego opens one eye, assesses the situation, and closes the eye again. Diego has opinions.

I'm starting to believe she's right about that.

She finds me again the next day. And the day after. And the day after that.

It becomes a pattern. She shows up at the wildlife center in the late afternoon, after the day's work is done. After the perimeter checks and the barricade maintenance and whatever chaotic events have transpired in the hours between morning and now. She brings food, sits with the round friends, and asks questions.

So many questions.

"Do zombies hibernate? Like, if it got cold enough, would they just... stop?"

"Their metabolic processes are unclear. The tissue degradation suggests cellular death but the continued motor function implies some form of ongoing energy consumption. Cold might slow them down. I don't know if it would stop them."

"What if we trained Captain to lead them off a cliff?"

"There aren't any cliffs in the park."

"What if we built a cliff?"

"Grace."

"I'm brainstorming. Brainstorming doesn't have to be practical. That's the whole point."

She asks about herd behavior, predator-prey dynamics, pack structures, dominance hierarchies, and whether animals can sense when something is wrong with another animal.

"Prey animals are incredibly attuned to threat indicators," I tell her.

"So the round friends would know."

"The round friends would know."

"Would they warn us?"

I look at Fernando, who's lying in a patch of afternoon sun with his eyes closed, radiating contentment. And at Diego, who's in the water feature doing absolutely nothing but doing it with conviction.

"They might not warn us in a way we could understand," I say. "But their behavior would change. They'd position themselves with escape routes in mind. It's survival."