Page 10 of Making Haven
Lawrence takes the roof away before getting on his toes and digging through the house, pulling eggs from under the chickens and placing them in the pockets of his hoodie. He murmurs as he goes, soothing the chickens trying to sleep.
“Okay,” he says, putting the roof back on the coop. He smiles as the chicken that’s been following him runs into the coop. “I’m going to put this bucket back and then put the eggs away in the house. After that we can take a look at these other houses. Wanna meet me out front over on the street?”
Instead of speaking, I nod my head. Lawrence gives me a look before he’s shaking his head and taking off towards the well. Ihobble my way towards the front of the house. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. There’s no way Lawrence is that sweet to his chickens. Maybe he uses them to perform weird blood rituals or something.
God, why am I like this? Why can’t I just accept that not everyone left in this depressing world is out for themselves and willing to shit on anyone in their path?
Once I get to the front of the house, I look up and down the road. If I followed the road to the right, it would lead me out of this gated community. Across the street is another house, and then there’s a handful of houses to my left on either side of the street which opens into a wide circular shape.
I close my eyes and lean against my walking stick, picturing what it would have been like to live here a few years ago. Did kids play street ball in this wide cul-de-sac? Did they have pick up football games in the street? Did families have regular BBQ parties? Did one of these families think about installing a pool so they could have all their neighbors over?
I can barely remember what life like that was like anymore.
“Alright,” Lawrence says, his voice bright as he comes to stand beside me. “Are you thinking the house across the street? Or maybe the one next to mine? Or would you rather check out some of the ones further down the way?”
I nod towards the house beside his own, the chicken coop between the two. “How safe is this place? Despite it being night, I don’t hear a single zombie.”
“It’s double-fenced,” Lawrence says, gesturing towards the giant white fence that surrounds the entire area. “This one is a bit more decorative I’ll admit but there’s a larger, stronger fence around the entire place at the bottom of the hill. I also have traps between the two fences. Once a week I go around the outside fence and kill anything lurking around. I put up little windchimes that attract them all into one place, making it easier for me to kill them.”
“Like shooting fish in a barrel,” I say without thinking.
“Exactly.”
Lawrence steps onto the porch, jumping on the steps to test that they’re not rotted and I follow behind. “Did you always live here?”
“I was incredibly privileged growing up. My father was part of an oil company so he came from old money. When he died, I got everything including his fortune and this house. I was the youngest person in this entire neighborhood.”
My image of this place morphs into something else. Instead of kids running around regularly, they’re here on the weekend visiting their grandparents. Instead of pool parties, there’s extravagant dinner parties and after-dinner cigars on the back porch.
I hum, letting Lawrence know I’m listening.
“Everyone here had money so when all this shit started happening, they all flew to different parts of the country. Most of them went to visit family. A few went to their vacation homes. I doubt any of them are still alive though,” he says the last part with a shrug. He’s holding himself back, trying not to show me how he really feels about that but I can tell he’s upset.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to move into one of these?” I ask before clearing my throat and adding, “until my ankle is better, that is.”
Lawrence puts on a smile but I can tell it’s fake. “No worries. It’s not like they’re coming back for it. I think they’d rather it be put to good use even if the occupant is a dickface.”
I roll my eyes and push past Lawrence. “Well? Shall we?”
He lets out a long breath before nodding and pushing open the door. I swallow thickly, I step inside.
Chapter Six
Lawrence
Stepping inside, I domy best to steel myself. There’s a reason I haven’t gone through these houses before now. The idea of going through my neighbors’ stuff was too much for me to handle. My chest aches as I look around, taking it all in.
It’s like no time has passed at all. Everything is exactly how they left it when they went to stay with family.
As I walk through the entrance hallway and head into the living room, I can’t help but glance up at the pictures left behind on the wall. Would they be upset that I’m here? Would they hate the fact that I’m getting ready to let someone else stay here?
I guess it doesn’t really matter.
I clear my throat, doing my best to seem unaffected despite knowing it’s not working at all. “I’ll make sure to clear out all the pictures and stuff. I don’t want it feeling any more haunted than it already does.”
“It’s fine,” Devin says, his voice stiff. He limps past me, the sound of his walking stick loud against the hardwood flooring. “If it’s easier for you, I can take care of putting the pictures away and you can do the heavy lifting.”
The offer is incredibly kind, completely at odds with how Devin has held himself so far. I knew there had to be more to this guy then sarcasm and barbed words, but to actually hear it is another thing entirely. I do my best not to let my surprise show, instead following slowly behind him into the living area.
