Hanish watched Janice sleep on the couch, a wave of frustration washing over him. He was angry at himself, at his helplessness. What was he supposed to do about this woman? He couldn’t let her simply walk away, not with everything that was happening, but he couldn’t force her to stay either. He felt no attachment to her, yet she was the only person he’d encountered in the last six months. His mind drifted to her brother, wondering what had become of him.

  Hanish grabbed his pistol and placed it in the waistband of his pants before stepping out into the early morning. He found one of his pigs pressed against the gate, caught in the fence. It was dead. He wiped his eyes, tearing up at the sight. He walked over and yanked the carcass free.

  Unsure if the undead affected animals, he grabbed his pistol and shot the pig between the eyes, deciding not to eat it in case the meat was spoiled. He watched the ground as he walked to the side of his barn and grabbed a shovel, then started digging a hole.

  “Hanish, it’s okay,” he looked up, imagining Aleaha standing before him, holding a blood-soaked blanket. “Sometimes they reject their babies.” He remembered about three years ago when one of the goats they had—before he decided to get pigs—rejected its kid. He watched Aleaha try to help and revive the kid, but after an hour, she waved her hand and shook her head. Hanish remembered that a few months later, he made the painful decision to sell both goats. Pigs, he thought, were the smarter choice.

  He looked over at the gate where the other pig was, and it was freaking out. He walked over to it, leaning over the gate. “August,” he said, tearing up. “I am so sorry your friend is gone.” He looked to the north where the undead lay in the grass. “Food is going to get a lot more scarce.” He went back to digging the hole, now four feet deep. He climbed out and grabbed the pig’s corpse, dropping it into the hole. He covered it over with dirt, patting it down tight.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Hanish looked up and noticed Janice gripping the door frame. She mouthed something he couldn’t hear, clutching her waist and staggering. “Hey, you, get back into the house!” He didn’t want this woman, who had managed to survive all this, to die on his doorstep.

  “Ah, I’m okay,” she said, squinting into the distance. “I was just looking for someone.”

  “Ain’t nobody out there,” he said, looking in the same direction.

  “I was…” she started but trailed off. She had a point. He’d thought he was alone until he came across her. She started tearing up.

  “Come on, let’s eat breakfast,” he said, helping her back inside and onto the couch. He went into the kitchen and started searching for what he had. He grabbed some bread he’d made a month ago. He opened his cabinet to get out some eggs, but he had none. “I gotta go get some eggs. Stay there.” He pointed at her. He walked out to his chicken coop and looked inside. The chickens were gone, and he searched through the hay, finding nothing. No eggs, no chickens. “Fuck,” he mouthed. He then heard a loud commotion coming from inside the house.

  Janice was in the kitchen, making a racket as she moved things around. “What the fuck are you doing?” Hanish asked, his voice laced with irritation as he stared at her.

  “You cooked yesterday, so I’ll cook today,” she replied. He almost laughed but managed to stop himself. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gently pulled her out of the way.

  “You aren’t in any shape to do anything,” he said, staring directly into her face. He then noticed the scars that marred her face, and a wave of sympathy washed over him. “What were you planning on cooking? I don’t have any chickens, bacon, or eggs.”

  “Spaghetti!” she shouted at him. She remembered it was her favorite, but she hadn’t had it in three years. She figured it would be the easiest thing to make.

  Spaghetti? He thought, confused. Did he have the ingredients for spaghetti? Maybe one or two of the MREs he had left were spaghetti meals. He grabbed his backpack and opened it. “Elbow macaroni in tomato sauce,” he read. He happened to have two of them. He picked them up and put them on the table. “Is this good enough?”

  She looked down at the packages. Her eyes began to swell.