Baby's New Friend

They arrived as the sun was descending past the horizon, the last few moments of sunlight left stretching their shadows out into infinity. Baby grinned at her friend Laura, riding next to her atop the cart filled with deliveries and other mail. It was the first year that presented the greatest difficulties, though and now some sense of normality had returned to the world. That was what the older people kept telling her, anyway, though Barbra felt that nothing was normal about the time before she was born.

Postie, at the head of the column, gave the signal for the two young women to hood the Dead that pulled their heavily laden cart. They did so, working from the rear of the double line of a dozen shambling corpses, rendering them mostly inert by limiting their remaining senses. Toothless and Snarl blocked the wheels of the cart with a few nearby rocks.

“First stop, The Farm.” Postie told his crew as they walked up to the gate. It was already being opened, as Postie was a welcome sight no matter where the old man wandered; he’d been delivering mail since before the world ended and saw no reason to stop afterwards. As long as there were still people, there would be a need for his services.

One-Ear jumped up onto the back of the cart and began rummaging through the packages they’d brought along. She moved them around a little, lifting things up into the remaining sunlight to check address labels. Then she handed one large box to Barbra, a slightly smaller one to Laura and grabbed a large bag out herself before jumping down to the ground.

“What do they grow here?” Barbra asked of nobody in particular.

“This is the only cattle ranch left in what used to be the state of South Australia, my dear,” Postie told her with a grin. “The only place possibly in the entire world where you will still find cows.”

Barbra marveled at the thought as she entered the gate. The guard nodded at her approvingly as she passed. A young man of a similar age to Barbra, perhaps a little older. He had a small scar above his left eye that crossed his eyebrow. The hair of his otherwise quite dark brow was white where it had grown over the scar. He closed up the gate and locked it securely after she passed.

As they walked to the farmhouse to present themselves to the leader of the settlement Postie spoke softly to Barbra.

“I didn’t come through here on my way south on my last trip, so there’s probably little point in showing anybody here your sketch,” His voice was always gentle and soothing. Barbra found it impressive. “However, people do travel so someone might have encountered him.”

The leader of the community, a farmer from a family of farmers going back several generations, welcomed them personally, insisting that they join the family for dinner. The family was large, as membership was extended to every member of the Farm’s community including the sole Newcomer among their ranks, drawn to their ways by a fascination of farming and the similarities between the cattle raised here and those upon his homeworld. The only differences, he told Barbra as they ate, were superficial and related to the higher gravity of his home from everything he’d been able to ascertain.

Barbra took his story in without really understanding; she’d still only encountered Meat-Beasts up til now, her only reference to cows had been in old books. She found the accent that the small man spoke through a little difficult to decipher at first, but she’d grown up with Uncle Ginger and Aunt Moira, who had similarly thick accents, even if they were completely different from both each other and that of this shorter fellow.

After diner they were shown to a pair of rooms that they were to share amongst them, sharing a compact bathroom between them. Barbra took one room with One-Ear and Laura, leaving the men to the other. One-Ear grinned through her face full of scars at the thought of a ‘girly sleepover’ as she put it, stating that it was the first she’d had since she was very young indeed. From the smile and her attitude, Barbra deduced that she’d been wrong about the woman; she was much younger than first suspected.

After a few moments discussion it turned out that Laura was the elder of the pair that Barbra shared with, One-Ear having been only seven when the world fell apart, making her roughly eight years Barbra’s senior. Scarring and a mercenary lifestyle had taken their toll on her appearance.

The bath was a welcome relief, and they each bathed alone, enjoying the solitude. For Barbra soaking in warm water was a rarity indeed, though Laura was used to such privilege. One-Ear splashed gleefully about when it was her turn, and by the time the three were all done with their ablutions and had left the bathroom to the men, they were seated comfortably in warm fluffy robes supplied by the Farming Family on the sole bed.

One bed there might have been for each room, but it was more than sufficient for the three young women to share, not worrying overly much about snoring or elbows. They had all suffered far worse sleeping conditions and the bed was both clean and comfortable.

Barbra awoke with somebody else’s arm covering her face. She carefully extricated herself, knowing that One-Ear probably could use a bit of a lie-in, and went to the door. They’d been locked in overnight for security; all travelers were potentially suspect and Barbra both knew and understood this. At dawn, however, the lock had been disengaged leaving only a Dead-proof latch that Barbra had slight trouble with in her newly awakened state. The smell of freshly brewing coffee was strong motivation, however, and she exulted in her freedom quietly as she slipped free of the room.

Breakfast was arrayed on the same long table used for the previous evening’s meal; stacks of pancakes and toasted bread, a plate of bacon heaped high with a plate equally heaped of scrambled eggs seated next to it. Postie was already awake and pouring coffee out of a huge pot, extending the cup to Barbra, who took it with a grateful grin. She shared her father’s love of the beverage and made no effort to hide it.

After her third cup of coffee, she felt able to dig into some of the pancakes, taking some bacon and eggs as well. She discovered from talking to her breakfast neighbours that the Farm had been operational all through the first year, suffering only a small skirmish with a group of raiders that had been woefully unprepared for the amount of firepower that the Farm and their Family possessed. The raiders had surrendered when half of their number had died in the opening salvo, then they’d joined with the Family, as they’d only turned to raiding out of hunger.

“Come with me,” Laura said directly into her ear from behind, startling her. “I want to show you something.”

It was a truly magnificent creature, plodding calmly about the paddock. Horns rose from the head, and the bull eyed his appraiser warily. Barbra just stared back, and the bull turned away, moving to the other end of the paddock so he could look at his cows. The short Newcomer came to stand by the pair of young women, grinning up at Barbra.

“Yuppers, I know these critters well enough.” Jost told them. “Shorter back home though.”

A small group of Dead appeared on the horizon. One dropped as its head exploded, the crack of the rifle report reaching Barbra’s ears an instant after the Dead fell. The sound startled the bull, and he began running around the paddock in a panic. Another shot, another Dead fell, and the bull snorted in terror. The third shot sent him running wild. He slammed into the fence near Barbra, his eyes wide, wild with rage. He ran around the paddock once again and rammed into the fence again, targeting the same point. Barbra, Laura and Jost moved backwards slowly, Jost telling the women to remain calm if they could.

Another rifle report sounded at almost the exact instant that the bull broke through the fence, barreling past the stunned Barbra. Jost began running after the creature, shouting in his own language. Barbra’s only thought at this moment was that his people had a beautiful tongue, far more musical than any she’d heard so far.

It was no use, Jost’s legs unable to compete with the much larger and faster bull, and the magnificent animal sped out into the Wastes. A grumpy expression on his face, he turned back to the women.

“Well, now I’ve got to go and get him back.” He grinned, showing a large gap between his front teeth. “If I don’t see you before you leave, it’s been fun, and I hope to see yuz again sometime.” He pronounced ‘fun’ as ‘fune’.

The young man that had opened the gate for Barbra and her companions the previous evening rode up on a bicycle, Jost hopping up to settle on the handlebars, placing his feet on a pair of pegs that extended from the forks holding the front wheel in place. The youngster tipped an imaginary hat and began pedaling after the escaped bull.

Barbra and Laura returned to their companions, Baby taking the opportunity to show ‘Alfred’ to anybody that she passed. Sure enough, nobody had seen him, or his ‘twin’. Postie waited with the cart, piled high with deliveries for those that dwelled farther out into the Wastes. The three guards were checking the harness that secured the Dead in place. One-Ear glanced up at her newly made friends with a smile as they approached.

“Ahh, perfectly timed my dears,” Postie positively beamed with delight at their arrival. “Ready to continue our journey?”

Barbra and Laura made their way to the back of the double line of Dead, removing their hoods in tandem at Postie’s suggestion. Then the older man took his place at the front of the column, and they began moving once more.