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“Well I don’t give a shit what they like,” the other man snapped. “I want to make sure they can follow orders.”
“These are two of our best, and they’ll do fine for you,” Waylon insisted.
The man holding Avril leered at her. “Will she do as I command?”
“We’ve never had a problem with her here,” Waylon guaranteed him.
“Then why are you getting rid of me?” Avril asked, and she was crying and trembling. “If I haven’t done anything wrong, why can’t I stay here?”
“Because it’s time to move on,” Waylon told her. “We have all the house staff we need.”
“Are we done then?” Wyatt interrupted, sounding annoyed. “You got what you wanted, we got the ammo and the whiskey.” He held up two big boxes that rattled when he shook them and a bottle of liquid. “Why don’t you get on home?”
“It’s late. We thought we’d stay the night,” the other man said in surprise.
“We keep this area free of wild zombies, so you’ll be safe in your travels, and Mama doesn’t accept any guests in the house,” Waylon said. “It does get cold, though, so you best get a move on.”
The men grumbled to each other, but they turned and started heading away, dragging the zombies and the weeping Avril with them. I wished there was some way that I could help her, but since I couldn’t, I could only hope that the men she went with would treat her better than the Loths had. That maybe her future with them would be brighter than it was here.
“What all did we end up getting?” Waylon asked after they’d gone.
“Two boxes of ammo, and a half-pint of whiskey. They didn’t have honey, though. Mama won’t be happy about that.”
“Mama isn’t happy about anything anymore,” Waylon said with a sigh. He closed the door, and the two of them headed back toward the house.
“Did they just sell someone for ammo and whiskey?” Kimber asked incredulously.
“Yep,” I replied. “Maybe she’ll be happier with them. I mean, they can’t be much worse than the Loths.”
“There is no bottom to pain or depravity,” she said thickly. “Things can always hurt worse. We can always be more cruel.”
33
Harlow
By the time I saw the first flower of spring, the brand on my leg had turned into a pink puffy scar, and it only hurt when I bumped against something or when I moved my leg certain ways.
The weather was getting warmer, and I was getting healthier. Kimber and I were getting closer to when we could escape.
That’s what kept me going through my long days cleaning for the filthiest, laziest family of the post-apocalyptic world. They did so few tasks for themselves I was surprised they didn’t have me wiping their ass for them.
“Harlow, are you busy?” Alma asked while I was dusting a sitting room that I had never seen anyone sit in (but Elmyra would have my hide if she spied a speck of dust in it).
Alma was standing in the entrance of the room, with her young daughter Honora hanging off her skirt and staring up at me with her wide eyes.
“Elmyra instructed me to dust this room,” I said.
“It can keep until later.” Alma waved it off, and her face was lined with exasperation. “I need your help.”
“What do you need?” I asked.
“Wrangling kids,” she said wearily. “Honora and Toby have been fighting all day, and I need to get down and see Kaleb.”
“Sure,” I said, mostly because I wasn’t allowed to say no.
I didn’t mind the younger kids, but I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with them. And I had no idea who she meant by Kaleb, since I hadn’t met anyone with that name the whole time I’d been here.
“Great.” She gave a quick smile, then turned and shouted down the hallway, “Toby! Come on! We’re gonna go see your mama!”
