Chapter 66 - Sixty Five - Death Cannot Seperate (1/2)

Dexter and his men returned home on the morning of the following day, as the winds had blown the persistent rainclouds towards the north west during the night. Their fortunes had been quite mixed. The village they hoped to raid and then return from had actually been picked pretty clean; food items, duvets, toilet paper, cleaning products and soaps, all had been taken from the homes.

It had been eerie to see the dusty properties abandoned to the elements and none of them felt like speaking as they crept through each house, devoid of both life and undead. That's not to say they found nothing; a salt and pepper set with some of each condiment within remained in one house, pocket tissues had fallen beneath a person's abandoned bed. Curtains and rugs hadn't actually been taken, nor had a box of nearly full contraception that Dexter swooped a hold of. After all, Jonah wouldn't want to get Brooke pregnant again after they became intimate again... was what Dexter told himself.

During the search, it had begun to rain, so they hung about in the house they currently had been searching through. Tyler had gathered up many books including children's ones and even found some crayons and colouring books for Lucy. She didn't have many toys, just the few they'd brought from her village, but she didn't play with them much, so Tyler hoped she'd enjoy these and he could teach her to read at some point as well. Seeing as they couldn't yet leave, he sat down and begun reading one of the books he'd collected, while Dexter took opinions on what they should do next.

”Want to try somewhere else?” Patrick asked him. ”Another village or maybe town?”

”From the looks of things,” Tyler pointed out, without raising his head. ”The local areas are probably all much the same. The raid that emptied out this village was organised.”

”Army base?” Harry suggested.

”No evidence,” Tyler replied, ”but more likely than a civilian job. Ordinary people just aren't so thorough.”

”That and the place doesn't look like it's been torn apart by burglars,” Dexter sighed, agreeing with Tyler's conjecture. He pulled out an old map from a road atlas found in their library and found their location. Using his finger to trace the local roads, it landed on another village, followed by another, both on winding roads that would eventually lead back into town... close their original base, in fact. If the army were as thorough as they theorised, he doubted the zombies nor their gathered supplies back then escaped the army's sweep. ”Let's try these villages,” Dexter suggested, ”and then head home regardless.”

Their theory solidified as they came to find slim pickings in those villages, running between houses whenever the rain lightened or stopped enough, spending a night in one house when the rain became quite heavy. Despondent, they intended on heading straight home, however Chang Min discovered an abundance of spiritual energy coming a place within the rambling fields along the side of the road and insisted they head to it. As it happened, a dirt road appeared ahead of them, so they didn't have to brave exiting the truck to trudge who knows how far towards whatever the young Cultivator sought.

The dirt road, which was mostly lost to weeds and grass, carried on for a mile. Chang Min did what he could to make the journey smoother, but all their teeth rattled in their heads by the time they arrived at the abandoned farmhouse.  It was fair sized, with scattered outbuildings and had a rustic feel to it, despite being built of brick and tile.  Wire fencing surrounded an empty coop to one side, which had no signs of movement or breakage from within; they could only conclude that it had always been empty.

”How useful would a handful of hens be right now,” Patrick lamented with a pout.

”They are those flightless, ugly birds that lay eggs for consumption?” Chang Min inquired.  ”The army base had rescued many of those from a nearby property.” He added after they confirmed his words with a brief nod.

”Hah,” Patrick sighed.  ”I miss eating eggs.  Fried, poached, scrambled, omelettes...”