ZombiePalooza - Anthology

#TeamInsidesAndEntrails Pt. II - @tamoja's "Rena"

Rena

By Tamoja

Rena left the old RV just before the heat of the day. If she stayed much longer, the metal would pop as it warmed and start to smell like heated-up, day-old dog piss. Some days she could stand the smell and claustrophobic feeling she got when the oven temperatures sky-rocketed, but not today. Today she had a job to do.

She donned the yellow galoshes she had taken from Mary Stringers pink bedroom. She'd won the lottery the day she went to Mary's. Clothes without holes, boots, and books. Books were a big win, and she'd taken as many as her arms could carry in Mary's pink fur backpack. The boots had been the best used item though, as they were a size too big and she'd broken the buckle pulling them out of the mud on the run, but they were still good. Better than the tennis shoes she'd had Day one and the dress, she'd burned the dress when she'd grabbed the wallets off the people on the bus.

It was a silly move. She knew that now. Thinking money was going to be worth anything when the world went "down the crapper." Grandpa used to say that. Down the crapper. Back when there was a grandpa. He usually said crapper when he was talking about politics, or money, or the way the world was, but crapper, it always made her giggle.

She picked up the bucket and her bat. It was time to feed the animals. She liked to feed them before the sun peeked above the tree line. They didn't look as messy without the sun. In the shade of the morning and afternoon, they almost seemed happy. Well, most of them anyway.

The bucket was light. A large silver pail with some rust on one side that let everything goop out. The boots helped. Except when the goop ran straight into the boot, and that could mess up a person's whole day.

"Hello Jasper. You're out early today. Did you sleep well?"

Rena didn't like it when Jasper was up early. He made her insides wiggle. She wondered why he wasn't like the others. They seemed content with walking the fences and eating, but not him. Jasper was her lion. He watched her like she was the Turkey on the table at Thanksgiving. Maybe she was, what with her yellow boots and Buffy the Vampire t-shirt she got Lorna. Maybe the brown skin made her look especially turkey-ish.

She thought about skipping the meals altogether. Animals were everywhere now, free-roaming. No matter what Uncle Matt said, these ten wouldn't make a difference out in the world. Maybe they would when there were more of them. Back when Uncle Matt was here, there were fifty! Of course, that's what did him in. Too much work, too many mouths to feed. It wears on a person.

The barn is half way down the road. Six tiny puddles today. That means it rained last night. She hadn't heard it, but the puddles weren't there yesterday. They didn't look deep, just dirty brown. At least they were deep enough to allow her boots a satisfying splash and a funny sucking sound when she pulls them out.

When she reaches the barn, she whistle's first. Just like Uncle Matt taught her. Nothing comes running, and it makes her feel brave enough to slide open the big wooden door. The stench hits her first. Rotten meat and wet wood. She'd say she was used to it, but the back of her throat squeezes at the bitter taste of acid rising. At least she didn't waste a breakfast today. No sense finding anything to eat before she feeds the stock.

Slowly, she wades into the muck pile. Flies swarm around her head and bite into her skin. They hang around the dead, acting like they fancy it, but they always seem to give her a taste. She wonders if they have a preference.

"The best thing about the flies is, they don't have teeth. That's why they seem so aggravated all the time. No teeth, but a powerful hunger. Greedy little bastards. The good Lord saw their nature and saw fit to only give them a straw. A straw so tiny they have to grab a sip and run."