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THIRTEEN

FARRRON

TOWN HALL

Day 464

The scrape of chairs on the barn’s dirt floor and the hum of voices filters out into the cool twilight air as I approach the Alden barn. I’ve turned the words over in my head again and again, trying to figure out how to break the news to everyone. No matter how I frame it, it’s bad. The uptick in zombie breaches these last few months is bad enough, but now someone is stealing our supplies? That’s a level of betrayal and potential terror we haven’t faced before.

I tug my coat tighter around myself as the biting winter wind sneaks through the fabric and stings my face. The barn looms ahead, a warm glow spilling through the few cracks in the walls and the main doors. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of hay and sawdust. Candles flicker from their perches on different surfaces, casting jittery shadows that are doing little to ease the tension crawling up my bones.

As I push through the door, people turn toward me, faces drawn and expectant. Several try to grab my attention at once.

“Farron, what’s going on?”

“Why’d you call a town hall?”

“Is it another attack?”

I raise my hands in a gesture of calm, though my nerves are fraying. One thing at a time, I remind myself, forcing a thin smile and murmuring, “We’ll get to it soon.”

Adrian catches my eye and squeezes my hand before he, Theo, and my grandparents drift off towards one of the tables we use during our monthly potlucks. Ma was doing her best to stay positive today, but I know the stress got to her because the woman didn’t stop cooking once today. They start getting everything set up, catching the attention of some of the other folks in the barn, who seem to calm a bit at seeing such normal actions. Kenji had also taken off when we walked in, peeling off toward Todd and Jay with Magnum trotting after him, tail wagging.

I stop by Peter and Jasper, who are sitting near a hay bale near the entrance. They’ve spent the last few weeks working their way around the fence line in preparation for a potentially harsh winter. The last thing we need is our fence falling in areas because we were ill prepared. “How’s the perimeter looking?”

“We’ve reinforced most of the weak spots,” Jasper says, his brow furrowed. “But with the cold settling in, it’s slow going.”

Peter nods in agreement. “We’ll need more manpower if we want it done before the next storm.”

“I’ll make it happen,” I tell them. “I’ll send Todd and Adrian to you guys tomorrow to help out, and then we’ll figure out a game plan.”

Jasper gives me a nudge with his shoulder, shooting me a small smile. “You always do.”

I nod, suddenly uncomfortable by the concept of receiving any sort of compliment, especially when I know what we have to talk about tonight. I shift a little and glance across the room, finding that Theo has been cornered by a few older women fussing over him. His eyes meet mine, wide and pleading. I smother a laugh, biting my lip. He’ll survive a little doting. Probably.

Before long, people start taking their seats. Ma and Pa settle in the front row, the empty chair next to Pa drawing my gaze like a magnet. It’s Mr. Abel’s chair. My throat tightens, grief and guilt starting to bubble up before I push it back down. There’s no time for that right now.

Adrian, Kenji, and Theo fall into step behind me as I make my way to the front. Theo presses a quick kiss to my forehead before taking his place near the pillars with the others, standing like silent sentinels. Magnum, who most definitely got distracted getting pets from everyone in the barn, comes running through down the aisle and plops down between Kenji’s legs. I guess he’s his new daddy.

The barn falls silent as I take my place at the front and turn to face everyone, the faint howl of wind through the slats filling the void. My chest tightens as dozens of eyes settle on me. I draw in a deep breath and begin. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve had a town hall,” I start, my voice steady despite the knots in my stomach. “But something happened this morning that everyone needs to know about.”

My gaze flicks to Daisy, sitting in the second row, her hands protectively cradling her pregnant belly. Eric’s arm wraps around her shoulders, his jaw tight. Fear shines in both their eyes, and here comes that guilt twisting in my gut again. I’ve always wanted to make Rolling Hills the safest place possible for everyone here, and I thought we had done a good job with that. But I failed them. I failed all of them.

Before I can continue, Miss Mabel pipes up, her shrill voice cutting through the silence.“Is this about my hash going missing?”

The room lets out a collective groan before it erupts in chatter.

“Jay stole some rope from my chicken coop last week!” Bill exclaims.

“Like hell I did! Who keeps rope in a chicken coop anyway?” Jay counters, while Bill just shrugs.

“I want Adrian at my house—to help me cook,” Nancy blurts, blushing furiously under her husband’s horrified stare.

“What about my hash?” Miss Mabel demands again.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I knew this was going to get out of control.

“Enough!” Kenji’s sharp voice cuts through the chaos like a whip. The barn falls silent, every head swiveling toward him. He glares at the crowd, then jerks his chin toward me. “Let Farron talk.”

I shoot him a grateful glance before clearing my throat. “This morning, Theo and I found the shed broken into. Supplies were stolen.”

The commotion returns, louder this time.

“Who was it?”

“Was it one of us?”

“We’re not safe anymore!”

“Calm down everyone.” I try to raise my voice in an attempt to cut through the chaos, but it does nothing.

“What was taken?” Jay asks.

“A bit of everything. A first aid kit, some of every single medicine we’ve gathered, food, hygiene products, and tools. Everything we’ve got in the shed has a few units missing. Which is what makes me think it was taken with a specific purpose, I’m just not sure what that purpose is,” I admit.

“It’s gotta be outsiders,” Rick shouts from the back. “We’d know if it was one of us!”

“Would we?” another voice counters. It’s Trevor, his arms crossed and his expression angry. His eyes are shifting around like he doesn’t know where to look, but he continues speaking anyway. “How can we be sure? We’ve never even had outsiders just show up here before. Well, before them.” He jerks his chin in the direction of the guys behind me.

“Are you accusing us?” Adrian snaps, moving forward before Theo places a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I’m just saying,” Trevor shoots back, “it’s not impossible.”

“Enough!” I shout, the words tearing from my throat. The crowd quiets, though the air remains heavy with unease and tension crackles in the air. I take a deep breath, willing my heartbeat to slow down before I tilt my chin up, forcing myself to meet everyone’s gazes.

“Nobody is accusing anyone else right now. I know this is hard to hear, but we don’t know what happened,” I say, looking directly at Trevor but he shifts his gaze awkwardly, moving his eyes to the guys behind me to glare at them. “It’s possible it was someone here,” I begin, and am immediately cut off as more whispers ripple through the crowd.

“Why would it be one of us?” Janie asks, standing up. “We’re a family here. If someone needed something, they’d just ask.” Her point is valid and it’s the same thought I’ve had as I’ve been mulling over the situation in my mind.

“You’re right,” I tell him. “We are a family here. Which means that, if someone here is responsible for the shed…” I trail off, looking pointedly at everyone gathered. “Just come and talk to me. We’ll figure it out, okay?” A few more murmurs break out through the barn. I look down at the front row and my grandparents give me an encouraging smile.

“But, if it wasn’t someone here, it means we need to be wary of outsiders who somehow managed to break in to steal without setting off any of the alarms. They’d have to have been watching us for a while to learn about the fence line alarms, traps, and the supply shed.”

“You really think outsiders have been watching us?” Daisy asks, her hand on her growing belly.

“No,” Trevor’s voice rings out, a sneer on his face. “Maybe the zombies just suddenly became sentient and learned to break locks.”

“Trevor,” I cut in, my tone sharp.”That’s not helping. Enough.”

He huffs but closes his mouth, his arms crossed tightly and his eyes focusing once again behind me.

“And what if it is one of us?” Jasper asks, his voice low. “What then?”

The barn falls silent. I see the doubt in their faces, the fear that maybe the enemy is closer than they thought.

“We deal with it,” Kenji says, his voice cold and certain. He steps forward, his presence commanding. “Whoever did this put us all at risk. If it’s an outsider, we handle them. If it’s one of our own…” His eyes sweep the room, daring anyone to challenge him. I swear I hear Trevor muttering something, and I watch as Kenji’s eyes narrow in on him before he turns around and shares a look with Theo and Adrian. “They’ll face the consequences.”

A chill runs through me at his tone, but I can’t argue. The trust holding this community together suddenly feels as fragile as glass, and if it shatters… I push the thought aside, forcing myself to stay focused.

“Almost all of you were already here before I found my way back to Rolling Hills after the outbreak happened. And I’ve never spoken about what I did or what I saw while I made my way here,” I tell everyone in the crowd, and I notice some of the slack-jawed expressions, the shock that I’m about to open up about anything. “I know that other survivors out there aren’t… good , and I know that because I ran into survivors like that when I was on my own.”

My words come to a stop, and I know I need to keep going, even if I don’t want to. I glance at Theo, Adrian, and Kenji. Their unwavering presence steadies me, pushing me to continue.

“I was on my way home, maybe somewhere in Utah or Wyoming at that point, when I came across some men. The details aren’t important, only the fact that they wanted to hurt me,” I say, my words causing murmurs to break out in the barn. “And there were more of them. They were a group that spoke of God and a higher purpose to ‘purify the new world,’ whatever that means. But they were violent, and they were out there.”

“Do you think these people could have found us?” Dave asks, and I find him in the crowd, only to see Nancy’s hand tightly holding onto his. A mother terrified for her son.

“The possibility of other survivors coming across Rolling Hills is unlikely, but not impossible. We have to be prepared, we have to take precautions to protect ourselves for the time being, just in case, just until we figure out what happened.”

“How do we do that?” Daisy’s voice rings out.

“I have a few short-term items that we should implement,” I say, drawing everyone’s attention back to me. “From now on, everyone moves in pairs or groups. No exceptions. Work, chores, perimeter runs, even trips to visit the other homes—no one goes alone. I don’t want anyone to get caught unaware. Peter and Jasper are reinforcing the fences for the winter, but we need to stay alert. If you see anything suspicious, report it immediately.”

“But how do we know we can trust each other?” someone asks, their voice trembling.

The question hangs in the air, unspoken but shared by everyone in the room.

“We start by trusting ourselves,” I say firmly. “We’ve survived this long because we’ve worked together. Because we’ve cared for each other. That hasn’t changed. If we let fear tear us apart now, we might as well hand ourselves over to the zombies…” I let my words settle for a moment. “We’re going to figure this out. In the meantime new locks are being placed on the shed, and only two people will have access to it. We have enough supplies still, but we’ll have to do another supply run soon to replenish some of our stores. We’ll also start implementing additional perimeter checks, to ensure we have people along the fence line more frequently. We’ll also work on doing some runs in the area outside of the fence line to make sure there’s nobody out there. I’ll have schedules and more detailed plans in the next few days, yeah?”

Pa stands up and walks forward. He places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a slight squeeze. I'm grateful for the reprieve for a moment. He turns to face the room, his steady voice cutting through the tension. “Stay alert,” he says. “If you see something suspicious, don’t hesitate to speak up. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

There’s a hesitant shift among the group, murmurs rippling through the barn as people exchange uncertain glances. Slowly, nods begin to spread, reluctant but present. It’s not reassurance, not exactly, but it’s something.

Ma stands abruptly. “All right, everyone!” she calls, clapping her hands with forced cheerfulness. “There’s plenty of food left. Grab a plate on your way out and focus on what we do have. We’ll get through this like we always do.”

Some people move toward the table, their steps sluggish, while others linger in their seats, too lost in thought to eat. The weight in the room hasn’t lifted—it’s just shifted into a quieter, heavier kind of dread.

I stand there, feeling the sharp edge of exhaustion pressing against my ribs. My blood pressure feels like it’s through the roof, my chest tight, and my head pounding. I glance down at my hands, realizing they’re trembling slightly.

Have I done enough?

The question digs into me like a thorn. No matter how much I tell myself that I’m doing my best, it never feels like it’s enough. I’ve been holding myself and this community together with sheer force of will, but for how much longer?