“I know that,” he said.
“And the boy chicken? What do we call him?”
I know, I know,” Jenny cried. “A rooster!”
“That’s right. Gold star for you, Jenny,” Michelle said.
“I knew that one,” Mark protested. “I should get the gold star.”
Michelle ruffled his hair with one slender hand. “How about you both get a gold star?”
He grumbled a bit but nodded. “Okay.”
Once they finished with the chickens, Michelle led the children out of the coop and locked the cage door. She put the keys in her pocket and walked toward the kitchen where Hannah was cooking breakfast.
The smell of oatmeal and sugar greeted her nostrils, and her stomach rumbled. “Mm, that smells good.”
“I’m nearly done,” Hannah said, flashing her a smile. “Ten more minutes.”
“Perfect. Here are the eggs,” Michelle said, placing the basket on the counter. “We’ll water the vegetable plots while you’re finishing up.”
Jenny and Mark trooped along behind her, and for the next few minutes, they worked outside, watering and weeding. There wasn’t much to do, really. Dave kept the gardens in mint shape, and the plants grew well, but Michelle wanted the kids to learn from an early age.
“Do you know why we water the plots so early in the day?” she asked. Mark and Jenny shook their heads. “So that the sun doesn’t suck all the moisture from the ground right away. It’s best to water your garden before it gets hot. Or after.”
She continued in this fashion, pointing out the different vegetables and explaining how they grew, what they needed, and how long it took before they could be harvested.
The children soaked up the knowledge like sponges, their faces eager and open. It gladdened Michelle’s heart to see it, and she reflected once more that she had the best job in camp. She loved kids, and she loved teaching. More than that, Mark and Jenny were like her own. Together with Buzz and Princess, they formed a family. A strange, but happy, orphan family.
Once the gardens were off their to-do list, Michelle herded the children into the common room for breakfast. Nombali had arrived by then with the other kids in tow, and ordered chaos broke out as they all scrambled to find a seat. Hannah dished up bowls of sweetened oats which Michelle and Nombali distributed, and soon everyone was happily munching away.
The adults began trickling in not long after, each grabbing a quick plate and coffee or tea before rushing off to their specific jobs. Though Michelle didn’t possess the details, she knew roughly half would go raiding, looking for building materials, while the other half would work on the moat, deepening and widening it. There was talk of digging more trenches further out as well and creating blockades to funnel the undead away from camp.
Either way, she was just happy to help, and ecstatic to show her appreciation to the people who’d taken her in. If she and the children could pull their weight, it would be a significant load off the other’s shoulders.
Michelle knew she wasn’t a fighter, and she knew some looked down at her for being so meek, but she also knew she could be useful, and was determined to prove it.
Her train of thought was broken when Anne and Meghan broke into an argument. She scooped up the last of her oatmeal before rushing over to restore peace, and then it was time to dole out everyone’s new chores.
“All right, settle down,” she said, once all plates were empty. “You know that we’ll have to work extra hard from today, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” was the chorused answer.
“And you understand why, don’t you?”
Another round of agreement.
“Great, so we’ll all do our best to help out and not complain too much?” Michelle let her gaze travel around to each, especially Meghan who tended to be a bit difficult. Naughty as hell, actually.
But everyone, even Meghan nodded gravely, and Michelle allowed herself to relax a bit. Maybe we can actually pull this off and not disappoint everyone.
“Ruby, you and Lonny are in charge of the goats today. Feed, groom, and milk them just like Abe taught you,” Michelle said.
“Okay,” Ruby replied, fidgeting with her leather bracelet, the one Anne and Meghan had made her in art class. She wasn’t a very talkative girl, and Michelle suspected she was still grieving for her father’s death and struggling to cope with everything that had happened to her.
Her brother Lonny, on the other hand, had bounced back from his ordeal like a rubber ball on concrete. As soon as he was discharged from the infirmary, he’d wormed his way into his teacher’s hearts with his dimpled smile and charming manners.
“Anne and Meghan, as punishment for fighting, you can help Hannah wash the dishes and clean the kitchen.”
“What?” Meghan exclaimed. “She started it.”
“I did not,” Anne protested.
“It doesn’t matter who started it. You know better than to fight. You’re friends.” She pinned Meghan to her seat with a frown. “Besides, I know you started it, Meghan. You always do.”
“I don’t mean to,“ Meghan said. “But if I know I’m right about something, shouldn’t I say so?”
“It’s not always about being right, Meghan. Sometimes you need to consider other people’s feelings as well. Especially if it’s a friend.”
“But isn’t the truth the most important thing of all?”
Michelle sighed. Arguing with Meghan was hard. The child was intelligent and articulate, but also stubborn and opinionated. A lot like her mom.
“Whatever you say, kitchen duty it is. You’re not worming your way out of it.”
“Aw,” Meghan said, her bottom lip growing thick, but Michelle ignored her antics and carried on dishing out orders. “Jenny, you can help Nombali look after the babies, while Mark and I tackle the laundry. We’ll all meet here again at eleven to help Hannah prepare lunch.”
With that said, breakfast was over, and everyone dispersed to perform their chores. Michelle spent a quiet morning folding clothes in the laundry room with Mark, while the rest of the washing dried on the line.
They broke off for lunch, a brief affair consisting of tea and biscuits. Afterward, they all went from room to room, sweeping floors, dusting, and washing windows, working their way through the camp at a steady rate.
By mid-afternoon, Michelle called it quits for the young ones, sending them off to play under Nombali’s supervision until supper was served. All except Lonny and Ruby who were too old for such things and both willing and capable of doing more.
With their help, she and Hannah cooked a plain but decent supper, washed up, tidied the kitchen, and made a few preparations for breakfast.
The only hitch occurred when Lonny bumped into her while she was carrying a basket of flour. He hit her hard on the hip, jarring her arms. A cloud of white enveloped her face, and she sneezed. “Lonny!”
He grabbed her arm to steady her. “Sorry, Miss Michelle. I didn’t mean to.”
“It...It’s okay, I’m all right.” She sneezed again and wiped her watering eyes while Hannah clucked and shook her head.
The resulting mess was cleaned up quickly enough, though, and after supper, they all retired to their beds. Nombali had returned Meghan, Anne, and the babies to their parents before the evening meal. Lonny shared a dorm room with Peter, and Thembiso, and Ruby stayed with Donya and Nadia.
Once she was sure they were all taken care of, and in their rooms, Michelle headed to her bungalow with a relieved sigh. “Boy, this was a long day.”
She stopped along the way to collect Mark and Jenny. Nombali had taken them home with her after dinner. This was a huge change in routine for them, but one that would pass when the current situation returned to normal. It’s only for a little bit.
“Thanks, Nombali. See you tomorrow,” Michelle said as she gathered the two sleepy kids close to her.
“Of, course. And I will help after supper then so you can get an early night,” Nombali said.
&nbs
p; “Sounds good,” Michelle replied.
Indeed, it did. If there was one thing Michelle enjoyed the most, it was her evening routine with the dogs and kids. After a long hard day, there was nothing better than going home and relaxing with them.
They reached the little cottage they called home and were greeted by an over-excited Buzz and Princess. During the day, the animals had the run of camp, but at night, they knew where their home was and always waited for her and the children to return.
With a shiver, Michelle unlocked the door and hustled everyone in. “Come, come. Get out of the chill.”
The bungalow consisted of a tiny living room, a single bedroom, and a bathroom. Even though it was small, it was home, and she adored it. She hung up their coats and made her way to the kettle. It stood on top of a small antique cabinet that occupied one corner of the living room along with a few cups, saucers, spoons, glasses, and a jug of water.
A tin of hot chocolate was her prized possession, and she doled it out sparingly most of the time. Tonight she was generous, however, and tossed a heaped spoonful into each cup followed by another of sugar.
Michelle glanced at the roster taped above the kettle and sighed. No baths that night. While the kids would be happy about it, she’d been looking forward to a long soak in the tub. “Ah, well. Get into your pajamas, my sweets. Chop, chop.”
They cheered, knowing it meant no washing for them. She followed at a more sedate pace and lit a few candles. Once they were all dressed warmly, she sat them down with the hot cocoa and a story.
Huddled under a blanket with a child on each side, sipping the sweet concoction in their mugs and with the scene lit in a golden glow, she could almost cry from happiness. This was her favorite part of the day.
Usually, after story time they’d play a board game, but it was late, and Jenny sagged in her seat. “Right. Time for bed, both of you.”
Neither protested as she tucked them into their half of the bunk bed they shared. With a hug and kiss goodnight, she let them sleep while allowing the dogs out for their final bathroom break.
Buzz and Princess roved across a small patch of greenery not far from her door, sniffing and squatting. She waited for them in the empty doorway, rubbing her arms and shivering. She wasn’t fond of the dark. Not after…
Michelle shook her head to banish the images. That was in the past, as was the rest of her life. Her mother, father, brothers, and sisters; they all belonged to a different world, one she no longer missed. Not while I have Mark and Jenny.
That night, she slept soundly and woke up refreshed and ready to face the day. Getting the kids out of bed took some doing, but at last, she had them dressed and ready to go. As they waddled out of the door in their thick jackets, she had to laugh. They looked like mini-Eskimos.
Buzz and Princess charged outside to chase each other across the frost-bitten grass, but came back soon enough when she filled their food and water bowls to the brim. It was enough to last them for the day, and after a quick rub, she left them behind with a clear conscience. As the only dogs in camp, they were pampered enough as it was, anyway.
The walk to the chicken coop was cold and refreshing. The sky was lightening in the east with the promise of a mild day. The children chattered the whole time, and Michelle was happy to see them so animated.
They slipped through the fruit orchard filled with trees planted in neat rows. Their grey trunks and bare limbs reached for the sky like beggars toward the sun, and dewdrops glinted on the few remaining leaves, now golden-brown and russet.
At last, the chicken coop was in sight, built next to the carefully laid out vegetable gardens. Immediately, Michelle sensed something was amiss and halted. Her brow furrowed as she tried to pinpoint her sense of unease.
The silence.
It was too quiet.
Where were the chickens?
She pried her hands loose from the children’s and looked down at them. “Jenny, Mark…wait here, please. I’ll be right back.”
Michelle walked toward the cage with slow, uncertain steps. Every sense was screaming at her. Something was wrong. She knew it.
The first feathered body confirmed her suspicions. She knelt down and felt the downy soft underbelly. Cold. The hen was dead. A puddle of blood pooled on the ground where its throat had been slit. The head was missing.
That bird was the first of many, all with their heads missing, and soon she came to realize the awful truth. Every single one of the chickens had been slaughtered. None had been spared.
The door to the coop yawned open, and even as she felt for the keys in her pocket, she realized they were missing. Someone stole my keys. But who? Who would do that? Who would do this?
With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she led the children away from the scene and toward the common room where she seated them at a table. Hannah and Nombali were already there, preparing breakfast, and in low tones, she told them what had happened.
Hannah gasped. “Who’d do something like that? It’s awful.”
“I know. What do I do now?”
Hannah stayed silent for a few seconds before replying. “Tell Breytenbach. Let him find the culprit. The man has a good head on his shoulders, and he’ll figure it out.”
“I can’t bother him now. Not when they’re all so busy at the moment,” Michelle protested.
“Tell him anyway,” Hannah insisted. “He isn’t allowed to raid or participate in heavy labor due to his heart problems. I know he’s been feeling out of place and frustrated. Perhaps, this is just what he needs.”
“Maybe you’re right. We need to find out what happened,” Michelle said, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “Who better than the Captain?”
“Call him now. The sooner he’s seen the chickens, the sooner we can pluck and freeze them,” Hannah said with a practical shrug of the shoulders. “Waste not, want not.”
Chapter 10 - Logan
Logan walked around his Land Rover with slow precision, checking each rim and tire for damage before popping the bonnet open for a closer look at the engine. Ten minutes later, he was up to his elbows in grease, fixing an oil leak.
“What are you up to, Logan?” Nadia asked from right behind him, having approached without him noticing.
Startled, he jerked upright and hit his head, causing a string of expletives to fall from his lips. “Shit, damn it, fu…what do you want, Nadia?”
She laughed, raising an unrepentant eyebrow as she leaned against the side of the Landie. “Oh, nothing. Just checking up on you.”
He cast her a baleful look. “Yeah, right. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
She sighed and eyed her chipped nail polish with a look of disfavor. “I was hoping I could go with you today. You know, on a raid.”
“Why? You haven’t shown any inclination to go with me for ages. Why the sudden interest?”
“No reason,” she replied with airy indifference, folding her arms across her leather jacket. “I just feel like spending more time with you.”
“And lover boy? Where’s he?”
She shrugged. “Going out with Martin.”
“Did you two have a fight?”
“No,” she replied, but he was quick to notice the way her lips tightened.
“Ah, so that’s it. A lover’s quarrel,” he said with a snort. “Happy to know I’m your second best choice.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re always my first choice, Logan,” she said. “Besides, I could use a break from moat duty.”
He shrugged. “I’ll give you that. Shitty job, to say the least.”
She shuddered. “It’s getting worse too. More and more infected every day.”
He straightened up and wiped his hands on a cloth before closing the truck’s bonnet. “How bad is it really?”
Nadia shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t know how long we can last. If these new defenses don’t work or isn’t put up soon enough…”
“That bad, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I
’ve spoken to Lisa, Caleb, and Donya. They all feel the same. This place…it feels like a house of cards on the verge of collapse.”
“Are you sorry you chose to stay?” he asked, eyeing her expression with care.
She thought about it for a moment before answering. “I’m not sorry about the people. They’ve accepted me, as I am, without reservation, and maybe Dr. Lange can cure me.”
“But?”
“But I’m not sure this place is viable in the long run, Logan. I keep waking up in the middle of the night, expecting it to be overrun with infected.” She chewed on her bottom lip before adding, “I’m scared here, while I was never scared at St. Francis.”
Logan nodded. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”
“You do?”
“Yup, and I intend to speak to both Max and Martin about it.”
Nadia blew out a breath. “That’d be great. If we could all move there, I mean.”
“Yes, but convincing the others won’t be so easy,” Logan said, opening the driver’s door and sliding in behind the wheel. “People are stuck in their ways. They like routine.”
“Tell me about it,” she replied with a huff as she climbed in next to him. “Caleb doesn’t want me going on raids. Routine is better, he says. Moat duty is safer, he says.”
“Well, he’s got a point.”
“Don’t you pull that crap on me too. I can’t get infected. You all know that. So what’s the big deal?”
“You can still get eaten,” Logan pointed out.
“So can he, but he still goes on raids!” she cried, her cheeks flushing blood red with anger. “So do you.”
“Yes, but we’re men, Nadia. We’ll always, deep down, think we’re stronger and tougher than you, no matter how progressive we are.” He shrugged. “It’s a testosterone thing.”
“Oh, please,” she huffed. “I’m just as good a fighter as any of you.”
“As good as any of them maybe. Especially lover boy.” Logan said. “Not me, though.”
She opened her mouth to utter a denial then subsided. “Yeah, okay. Maybe not you.”
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