Understood?”
There were nods and nervous rumbles of agreement.
“All right then,” Marcus said with a sharp nod. “The vote results are as follows. Option three, to send Tyler Garrett back to the Compound with Monte and Phil on their return trip, received four votes. Three votes to provision Mr. Garrett and send him on his way. But the winner, with thirteen votes, is to accept Tyler Garrett as a provisional member of this team, with a final determination to be made prior to our arrival at the fallback location. That is the ruling.”
I heard some disgruntled comments, but I heard more people expressing relief and pleasure that we weren’t so jaded and broken that we couldn’t even give a person a chance anymore. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I completely agreed.
“Neil, I imagine you want to go check, make sure Wilhelm hasn’t chased everybody up into the hayloft, so go ahead and give Tyler the news. Then he can come get to know everybody a little better before we bed down for the night.” Marcus waited until Neil was on his way, sent a couple of guys off to stand guard, then turned back to the house. “C’mon, folks. I wanna get a look-see in that basement before we hit the sack.”
Once back inside, we automatically split into groups to accomplish the remaining evening tasks. I wasn’t feeling up to exploring a dark, dank, possibly zombie-infested basement, so I decided to help prepare beds for the night. I put Skip on the screen porch with the cats to keep him from roaming. Despite being a hound breed known for its ability to chase down small, fast-moving, furry creatures, Skip really loved cats. It was kind of creepy. He trotted to the corner where all four cats were sleeping in a pile, plopped down beside them, and contentedly tucked his nose under the chin of a big orange tom.
I turned and headed for the stairs, and looked over my shoulder to find Melissa and Faith tagging along. We discovered four bedrooms upstairs, but one was set up as a sewing room and lacked a bed.
Faith squinted one eye—this was her ‘thinking face’—and said, “Definitely not enough beds for everybody.”
What did she expect? “No, but we can maximize what we have.” I strode across the hall to the bedroom where Ty had been holed up earlier. “Here, help me move this.” I began tugging the heavy double mattress off the box springs.
The girls quickly caught on, and we soon had the mattresses off all three beds. “Box springs don’t look very comfortable,” Melissa noted, her expression skeptical.
“Better than the floor, or hanging off the loveseat in the sitting room.” I threw a blanket onto the box springs in the small back bedroom. “Besides, some of us will be on guard duty, and Neil and Patrick will most likely sleep in the barn, so we’ll be pretty close.” With the large sofa in the living room, and a comfy-looking recliner, we should be relatively comfortable tonight. No doubt we’d all slept in worse conditions.
We raided drawers and closets for pillows and blankets and distributed them the best we could among the bedrooms. There were plenty of blankets, quilts, and afghans, but pillows would definitely be first come, first served.
A whoop and some happy laughter drew us downstairs. We found Theo in the dining room, at the back of a crowd of at least a dozen people crammed into the kitchen. I clutched his arm and pushed up on my toes, trying to see into the room.
“What’s the source of all the merriment? I see a bunch of cans and some jars of something red.”
Theo threw an arm companionably around my shoulders. “Yes, jars of tomatoes and jams, labeled just last year, and a bunch of cans of indeterminate age.” He withdrew his arm and shoved his long, dark hair out of his face, revealing the oddly bright twinkle in his brown eyes. “Seriously, some of the cans aren’t even expired, but some almost qualify as antiques. We’ll use the good ones, but I’m
There were nods and nervous rumbles of agreement.
“All right then,” Marcus said with a sharp nod. “The vote results are as follows. Option three, to send Tyler Garrett back to the Compound with Monte and Phil on their return trip, received four votes. Three votes to provision Mr. Garrett and send him on his way. But the winner, with thirteen votes, is to accept Tyler Garrett as a provisional member of this team, with a final determination to be made prior to our arrival at the fallback location. That is the ruling.”
I heard some disgruntled comments, but I heard more people expressing relief and pleasure that we weren’t so jaded and broken that we couldn’t even give a person a chance anymore. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I completely agreed.
“Neil, I imagine you want to go check, make sure Wilhelm hasn’t chased everybody up into the hayloft, so go ahead and give Tyler the news. Then he can come get to know everybody a little better before we bed down for the night.” Marcus waited until Neil was on his way, sent a couple of guys off to stand guard, then turned back to the house. “C’mon, folks. I wanna get a look-see in that basement before we hit the sack.”
Once back inside, we automatically split into groups to accomplish the remaining evening tasks. I wasn’t feeling up to exploring a dark, dank, possibly zombie-infested basement, so I decided to help prepare beds for the night. I put Skip on the screen porch with the cats to keep him from roaming. Despite being a hound breed known for its ability to chase down small, fast-moving, furry creatures, Skip really loved cats. It was kind of creepy. He trotted to the corner where all four cats were sleeping in a pile, plopped down beside them, and contentedly tucked his nose under the chin of a big orange tom.
I turned and headed for the stairs, and looked over my shoulder to find Melissa and Faith tagging along. We discovered four bedrooms upstairs, but one was set up as a sewing room and lacked a bed.
Faith squinted one eye—this was her ‘thinking face’—and said, “Definitely not enough beds for everybody.”
What did she expect? “No, but we can maximize what we have.” I strode across the hall to the bedroom where Ty had been holed up earlier. “Here, help me move this.” I began tugging the heavy double mattress off the box springs.
The girls quickly caught on, and we soon had the mattresses off all three beds. “Box springs don’t look very comfortable,” Melissa noted, her expression skeptical.
“Better than the floor, or hanging off the loveseat in the sitting room.” I threw a blanket onto the box springs in the small back bedroom. “Besides, some of us will be on guard duty, and Neil and Patrick will most likely sleep in the barn, so we’ll be pretty close.” With the large sofa in the living room, and a comfy-looking recliner, we should be relatively comfortable tonight. No doubt we’d all slept in worse conditions.
We raided drawers and closets for pillows and blankets and distributed them the best we could among the bedrooms. There were plenty of blankets, quilts, and afghans, but pillows would definitely be first come, first served.
A whoop and some happy laughter drew us downstairs. We found Theo in the dining room, at the back of a crowd of at least a dozen people crammed into the kitchen. I clutched his arm and pushed up on my toes, trying to see into the room.
“What’s the source of all the merriment? I see a bunch of cans and some jars of something red.”
Theo threw an arm companionably around my shoulders. “Yes, jars of tomatoes and jams, labeled just last year, and a bunch of cans of indeterminate age.” He withdrew his arm and shoved his long, dark hair out of his face, revealing the oddly bright twinkle in his brown eyes. “Seriously, some of the cans aren’t even expired, but some almost qualify as antiques. We’ll use the good ones, but I’m
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