Page 45 of Bound in Ashes

“He was up before me,” Uncle Levi said.

I chuckled, not at all surprised. Miles was Jack’s number one fan, and though Jack tried to play it off, I knew he cared about the kid.

Uncle Levi ate his oatmeal, and I frowned at the slight tremble in his hand.

“You okay?” I asked a moment later.

The spoon slipped out of his fingers. He caught it, just barely, and now gripped it tight, the way he clutched it almost desperate.

He shook his head, then sighed. “How can anybody be okay?”

I knew what he was doing, but I pushed on. “Uncle Levi…”

“Don’t put me on the spot, girl. I’m an old man, and a tired one to boot, but I’m all right.”

To prove his point, he hefted another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth, and the tremor was nowhere in sight.

I watched him chew, trying to ignore the ache of regret in my chest at all the time I’d lost with him.

“You got something else on your mind?” I asked, looking at my uncle’s frown.

“Those chickens might be a problem,” he said.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Jack said.

“You think the noise draws them in?” I asked.

Two days in a row, a zombie had wandered close to the farm’s perimeter. We took them down easily, but it was worrying.

Uncle Levi nodded. “They can’t be helping, but we need them.”

The farm was well supplied, but we were burning through more and more resources every day. I felt the pressure, and I knew Jack did, too.

“I’ll try to think of something while I walk the fence,” I said.

Jack pushed away from the wall. “Let me grab some coffee. I’ll walk with you.”

He didn’t look at me, but I knew his game.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked.

The others shifted, but I kept my attention focused on Jack.

“Where’s the coffee?” he asked, like the coffeemaker had moved in the last thirty years.

He perked up when he spotted it and grabbed and filled a mug. But before he could press it to his lips, I grabbed and plucked it out of his hand.

“No. You’re eating eggs and then you’re going to sleep,” I said.

Jack’s eyes darkened.

The kitchen went quiet.

“Asia,” he said, his voice low, threatening in a way that had no impact at all.

I squared up to face him, holding his gaze. “Sit down, Jackson.”

I braced myself, ready for him to push back. Some vague part of me was aware of the others watching, waiting for the crackling tension to snap.