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“They are hard workers, and that’s all that really matters,” Avril replied simply, and then she lowered her voice, “Don’t be too alarmed when you meet Buddy, but he has his lips sewn shut.”
“I met him before, with Tallulah,” I said, and then, because she lowered her voice, I whispered, “What happened?”
Avril stopped, staring straight ahead, and she pursed her lips. “What happened is that you have to be very careful around the ranch.” Her mouth twitched, like she wanted to say more, and then finally, she added quietly, “But you can do well if you know how to follow orders.”
28
Harlow
The food had given me a slight energy boost, but by the time I finished a long day learning the ins-and-outs of running a semi-off-grid farmhouse that housed a family of at least a dozen people, I was exhausted. All of the healing wounds on the palms of my hands had cracked open anew from the scrubbing and cleaning, and my feet and legs ached since there was no moment of rest during the fourteen-hour-work day.
Avril told me that the final task of each day involved serving the family dinner around the table, followed by washing dishes and clean up. The good part about that was that we were permitted to eat their scraps, and that constituted the second daily meal. Our first meal was eating the scraps of their breakfast, but I had been given my own full plate today since I was so underfed and needed my energy back.
Unfortunately, because I was still learning the job, Elmyra didn’t think I was ready to serve the family, and I was escorted off without any supper.
Elmyra assigned her eldest son Waylon to conduct me back to my stable. An escort was needed to ensure that I didn’t make an escape and to lock me back into my stall at night, but truthfully, I needed guidance through the maze of ranch buildings. It would take me more than a day to get oriented with such a large, complex property.
It was early evening, and the air was crisp with snow falling from dark clouds overhead. So far, it was little more than a dusting on the ground, but it was enough that we left footprints as we walked.
Waylon kept fiddling with the keys hanging on a chain around his neck, and he attempted awkward small talk with me: “How was your work today? How are you enjoying the family? Where were you from before the world fell?”
To all of those questions I answered politely in as few words as possible. I couldn’t risk offending him, but I didn’t want to be his friend. Not to mention I was exhausted and anxious to see Kimber again.
“I grew up here, as you likely gathered,” Waylon said, still speaking amiably with me as we strolled between buildings full of zombies. “It was a nice childhood, but I do sometimes regret not travelling more. I thought I would be able to when I retired, but life had other plans.”
“It is funny how life works out sometimes,” I agreed, as if his loss of retirement plans were comparable to the loss of everything I’d ever known.
“I always wanted –” Waylon was saying, but I cut him off with a sharp scream when I saw a zombie running toward us.
The zombie had darted out from between two buildings, and it charged at a manic pace toward us. No chain around its neck, no fence between us. The zombie was free and very fast.
“Watch out!” I yelled instinctively because Waylon was standing between me and the zombie.
He pulled a gun out of his waistband. Right before the zombie reached us, he shot it between the eyes, and the zombie abruptly collapsed on the ground. The blood spilling out stained the snow around it a greenish-red.
“Every now and then, one of them gets loose. That’s why I always carry my gun,” Waylon justified. “We don’t have a lot of ammo, but it’s the quickest way to get the zombies back in order if they escape.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled, because he had technically just saved my life, and it seemed like the polite thing to do.
We continued on our way back to my stable, leaving the zombie corpse behind for Waylon to deal with later.
“My brothers use the bow and arrow more, but I don’t think that’s so good at taking care of zombies who are coming for your throat,” Waylon went on, as if I had asked him any follow up questions. “They agree with me, actually, but it’s so hard to keep ammunition on hand these days. Last summer, we even knocked over this big old militia compound, thinking they’d have their armory stocked. But there was hardly any left, and what we took, we spent by winter.”
“Well, I am glad you have your gun so that you can protect us,” I said, and when I gave him a grateful smile, he puffed up and beamed down at me, like I had given him a compliment.
When the stall doors opened, and I saw Kimber resting in fresh hay, tears instantly formed in my eyes, and I ran over to her.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? What happened?” She sat up more as I knelt down beside her. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, no, the work was hard but it was fine,” I said, which was true enough. “I was worried about you. You’re okay? What did you do?”
“You will not believe this at all, but I actually had a pretty okay day,” she admitted almost hesitantly, but her lips were slowly curving up into a smile. “They put me to work cleaning out the barns for cattle and goats. I got to work with animals all day, and it’s fairly warm inside the livestock barns. Walking by the zombie cages wasn’t exactly a highlight, but the rest of it wasn’t so bad.”
“Really?” I asked, and relief washed over me again. Kimber was safe, away from the Loths and the zombies.
“What about you? How was it inside as a house girl?” she asked with a wry smirk. “I heard that’s what they call you.”
“It was… It was housework.” I shrugged and tried to brush it off, but Kimber noticed my hands.
