She looked at me, then looked at the others who had gathered. “Let’s talk privately,” she said.
Her voice was quiet, intense, and confirmed this was serious.
The farm hadn’t adopted any kind of official leadership structure, and I didn’t make it a point to have private conversations. But if Caitlin asked, I knew there had to be a reason.
I nodded, then stepped up onto the porch, Caitlin behind me, Jack behind her.
“You left Dante alone?” I asked.
“He’s still here?” Caitlin said.
“Long story, and sounds like you have information,” I said.
She nodded, and we settled in the living room. Caitlin looked at the door, chewing her lips.
“That serious, huh?”
“Yeah, that serious,” Caitlin said.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“Christopher. It’s bad.” She sighed, then shook her head. “I didn’t think anything of it at first, but then I saw it with my own two eyes,” she said.
I thought about what Jack and I experienced in the town. “Did he feed someone to a zombie?” I said.
Caitlin’s eyes widened. “No.”
“So what then?” I said.
“The children…” she said, her voice stricken. “Christopher has taken all of the town’s children. Moved them out of their parents’ homes. Said it was for their own good.”
Jack’s jaw clenched. “Makes sense.”
“How?” Caitlin asked.
“Consolidation and control. Simple,” I said.
He studied Caitlin. “But that’s not it, right?”
She shook her head. “No. He’s coming here. I don’t know when, but he’s coming. And, eventually, he’s going to want more than flour.”
Jack
“Spit it out, Jack. I know something’s on your mind,” Asia said later that night.
I glanced at her. “I never realized I was so transparent.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “That’s you, all right. Transparent like quantum physics and the rule against perpetuities.”
She sat on the bed, her shoulders relaxed. Other than the slightest squint, her eyes gave away nothing.
I met her eyes. “This has to end.”
She sighed, laid her head back against the wall. “It does.”
“I’ll be back soon,” I whispered a second later.
She looked in my direction but stared through me.