WILLA, стр. 13

9.

Life in the cellar without electricity was hard for the first month or so. I’m not saying it got easy after that, but that we got used to its absence. In a lot of ways, the lack of power kept us safe.

For starters, we had to do most of our cooking outside, which meant that we had more people on watch. Those manning the cook fires had to learn to defend themselves in case one of the creatures crossed our barriers or, at the least, use a spear to stab them in the head if they got near, which quickly became the case with the smell of food.

The scent of their dead rotting in a field nearby made the zombies approach us with caution, but it didn’t stop them from seeking out the smell of cooking meat.

At first, people argued against cooking outdoors. However, it didn’t take long for our group to realize that without the microwave, air fryer, blender, and other cooking appliances that required power, our meals were smaller and limited to canned rations. That meant that they could see our food supply diminishing at a rapid rate. Oddly enough, it was Mom who brought everyone’s attention to that fact.

“We’ll run out of food if we keep this up,” Mom had bellowed to those of us in the cellar about two weeks after the electricity ceased.

“Mom,” I said, trying to quiet her.

She hadn’t gone into a ranting fit in a while. I’d hoped that she was growing used to our reality. When I’d heard her words, though, I’d feared the worst.

“I’m not joking, people,” Mom said, holding two clipboards up so everyone could see them. “We can’t keep eating our non-perishables in this way. If we do, we’ll be out of food within a few months.”

I looked to Grandma for help in shutting Mom up, but Grandma was watching Mom intently. My grandmother understood better than any of us what Mom was saying.

“So,” someone in the crowd said, rolling their eyes at mom and assuming she was having another one of her freak-outs.

Mom gave the general direction the voice came in a withering stare.

“So, after that, we’ll slowly starve to death if we don’t resort to cannibalism. We have to start rationing what we have. And I mean rationing. People need to split cans of soup between themselves and at least one other person. Four would be better. Cans of vegetables the same. And they have to be the person’s full meal.”

“We’ll starve that way,” another person said, sounding terrified.

“No, we won’t. Most of us are overweight—some more than others. We’ll all lose weight, but we won’t starve,” Mom replied.

“There has to be a better solution,” my cousin Kayla said, stepping forward.

“If anyone has another suggestion, I’d love to hear it.”

The room was quiet for a long time.

“You all could put on your big girl panties and leave this cellar for one,” Grandma’s brother, Ray, said from where he sat by my grandmother.

“What did you say?” someone asked.

“We are on a farm. There’s livestock out there. Cows we can milk. From the chickens, we can get eggs, and there are deer and other animals in the woods. Those Keto fanatics weren’t wrong in one aspect. Protein keeps you fuller longer. We need to incorporate more of that into our diet,” my Great Uncle Ray said.

“There are zombies out there,” the person said.

“Yes, there are, and you are capable of learning to shoot a gun or run for more than a second. You just have to train yourself to do it.”

“That’s suicide. And even if we could get more meat, we only have the stove. It’ll take forever to cook enough meat for all of us every day.”

“My God, you are the laziest bunch of assholes I’ve ever set eyes on in my entire life. Some of you have been camping or at least watched a television show or two where people cook outside. Again, this is a farm. If I’m not mistaken, we have two large grills and a smoker on the property. And we can cook over a fire if need be,” Ray said.

“The smell will draw those things down on us,” Mom said.

“Then more of you can take up guard duty,” Uncle Carson said, coming down the stairs. “We need extra people for the watch anyway.”

“Why?” Mom asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Because just in the last week, the number of zombies wandering onto our property has doubled. I assume they’ve run out of food in the city and are branching out to find more.”

“All the more reason for us to stay hidden down here,” someone said.

“Hey, it’s up to you guys. You can stay down here and slowly starve when you run out of food, or you can help us hunt.”

“You’ll starve with us,” the person said.

“Nope. When the food gets low enough, I’ll start hunting. All of my guards will.”

“But that will leave us unprotected.”

“Maybe. Or you’ll learn to protect yourselves. I’ll tell you this. The guards will get most of the meat we hunt to help keep their strength up.”

“And Uncle Ray called us assholes,” a man said.

“Hey, you know your options. I told you from the start that the only way we survive is if everyone helps. Many of you aren’t helping. Some are doing the bare minimum. Yes, we need clean clothes and dishes, and a clean house, and spotless bathrooms for sanitation purposes.

“Thank you for doing that, but we’re creeping up on winter. Soon, it’s going to be too cold to hunt, and there won’t be many animals out anyway. We need to kill what we can now. The same goes for making butter and plenty of