Tyler’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t asking.”
Kurt’s smile fell, and he stood straighter. “Yes, sir.”
On his way out, he winked at the woman, and her flirtatious smile left no doubt as to whose bed she’d be sleeping in tonight. That was Kurt. He hit on every woman. Hell, he hit on me but mostly only when Jase was around, likely because it pissed Jase off. He obviously liked Jase even though he seemed to be constantly picking on him, so I figured it was some kind of friendship hazing ritual. Clutch, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Kurt didn’t risk hitting on me when Clutch was around. Maybe because Kurt looked to him as Sarge. More likely it was because that any sense of humor Clutch had was lost in the stampede that crippled him.
The smell of beef stew made my mouth water and drew my attention to the small buffet line. Made with wild greens, berries, and some other local plants that I hadn’t yet figured out, it was my favorite meal. As soon as Tyler got a bowl, Nate set a generously sized bowl of stew on my tray. Nate, like everyone else here, performed multiple duties. Like Kurt, he was also a Guardsman and a scout under Tyler, but he was also a damn good cook. Between Vicki and him, they planned all our meals.
It was easy to see that Nate thoroughly sampled each meal. He was one of the few scouts whose clothes fit tighter since the outbreak. After giving Nate a grin, I moved on and grabbed a handful of nuts and two crumbly chunks of cornbread, our daily staple. One thing the Midwest had plenty of was corn, but there was one big problem. Farmers planted seed corn, with only small pockets of sweet corn scattered across the area. Seed corn was made for cattle feed or corn syrup. Hard and bland, it generally wasn’t exactly consumable without being ground down into cornmeal. We’d grown accustomed to the simple taste. Hell, I even looked forward to Nate’s corn hash every third morning.
That was the way things were around here. Everything had become a routine. Hard-boiled eggs or hash for breakfast, meat as dinner’s main course every other day, and only vegetables and grains on the alternate days. Sugar and salt were restricted for medical use only. After a while, a person’s palate became accustomed to a blander fare, finding new flavors in things like dandelion tea and root soup. But that wasn’t always the case. Some things were just simply flavorless, or worse, tasted like weeds.
Tyler led us back outside to a picnic table. Manny and Bill followed us rather than sitting with their own people.
“Real beef?” Manny asked, swirling a spoon in his stew, while Bill slurped directly from his bowl, completely oblivious to us.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Tyler replied after taking a bite. “But it fills the stomach.”
Manny chuckled. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t remember the last time I had meat that didn’t come out of a can.” He took another bite and frowned. “I can’t make out the seasoning.”
“It’s marjoram,” I said. “Deb found a whole bunch of it growing wild around the park. We ran out of spices a month ago and have been trying out what grows naturally. We’re still getting used to the new flavors ourselves.”
“We’ve also been collecting all the remaining livestock in the area,” Tyler said. “Mostly hogs, but a few cattle and some chickens. There aren’t many left, but enough to repopulate into something that can support us.”
“Impressive,” Manny said. “We’ve brought some livestock into Marshall, but nowhere near enough to support the numbers we need to support. You’ve got everything you need right here.”
“Not yet, but being smaller helps,” I said. “Right now, we’re working on harvesting and canning fruit. There are quite a few apple trees, but other than berries, we don’t have much variety. Not having enough vitamin C to last the winter is one of our greatest nutritional worries right now. Scurvy is a very real risk we will face unless we can get into town for food or vitamins.”
Manny tilted his head. “Well, you’re a step ahead of us. For winter, we planted some crops in the greenhouse, but we’d planned on living off anything we could find in houses. The pickings have grown pretty slim the past few weeks. We’ve gotten desperate enough to start picking around the edges of the Twin Cities. We’ve been saving seeds. Come spring, we’re planting crops anywhere there’s grass at the university. That is, if the herds haven’t busted things up too bad.”
“I’m sure you can rebuild,” Tyler said with his famous, kind smile. “Were you in contact with any other survivors from Marshall?”
Manny frowned, and then shrugged. “We kept in touch for the first day before we lost contact. There were pockets heading in every direction. Some headed north, thinking the worst of the zeds were to the south. Some headed east or west, since the herds were moving south. I decided to take my folks south to get as far ahead of the herds while we still could, but as soon as we pulled away from one herd, we ran smack into another. All I know is that once we find a temporary place to hide until the herds migrate, we’ll head back to Marshall for the rest of our people and rebuild at the school, if it’s still possible.”
“It’s possible,” Bill said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “The other zeds will join up with the herds, so they’ll all be gone. We can focus on rebuilding, finally, instead of just watching and defending ourselves against the infected every day.”
“You really think the herds are migrating for the winter?” I asked, sure that the doubt bled through my words.
“After seeing it with my own eyes, I’m convinced of it,” Manny said before taking another bite.
“I think it’s a good idea to check out those herds for ourselves. What do you think?” Tyler asked me. “Can you make the flight without a fuel stop?”
I shrugged. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You’re a pilot?” Manny asked.
I gave a quick nod. “If the herds are getting that big, they’d be easy enough to spot from a distance. I wouldn’t even have to fly low. Plus, I could make a wide arc back to see if there are any other groups headed our way. It’ll give us some idea where the herds are and where they’re headed.”
Bill’s eyes widened. “You have to take me with you.”
I held up my hands. “Whoa. I’m scouting the herds. That’s all. I’m not touching down anywhere.”
“If you could at least fly over Marshall, we can at least see if the herd did much damage,” Bill pleaded.
I sighed before turning back to Tyler. “If the flight goes without any hiccups, I suppose I could check out Marshall the same way I did Mason City.”
Tyler thought for a moment, and then nodded. “If the weather changes or you get any kind of bad feeling in your gut, turn back. This run should be as straightforward as they come. I also want Clutch with you to check out the herds. We’ll wait until he’s feeling better if we have to, but I need his experience on this one.”
“So, you aren’t going to check on Marshall?” Bill asked, each word climbing in pitch.
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “If everything goes as planned, I’ll fly over it. If the heavens align, I’ll consider landing. But if it is in any way unsafe to land, all I can do is drop a bag with any messages you and your friends want to leave.”
Using bag drops had been Tyler’s idea to improve morale. The first bag I’d dropped had worked like a charm at Mason City. It looked like no survivors had made it in the ravaged area, but that didn’t matter. Even if no one came to claim the bag, Tyler was right. The action had brought hope to the families back at the park.
Manny smiled and patted Bill’s shoulder. “That’s a grand plan. If you have some paper and pens around here, I’ll bring notes from my people in the morning. We’d done similar things over the Twin Cities when we still had a pilot with us. Though, I’m guessing Bill would be more than happy to ride along if you have room for an extra passenger.”