Well, the old man just up and died on us.
In the middle of the night we woke up to grandma screaming and crying. It wasn’t zombie related or anything like that. In fact it was the strangest thing I have seen in this new world we live in, a natural death. Brenda says he had a heart attack.
His name was Doyle and apparently he had run out of heart medication months ago. In fact it seems like there may have been some ulterior motives behind their hospitality. After the grandmother, Edith, calmed down and regained her composure, she explained everything to us.
Their grandson, Harvey, was only seventeen. He was nice and hard working, but he was also dumb as a stick (her words, not mine). Doyle knew he wouldn’t live long without his medication. Doyle also knew Harvey would not be able to run the farm and take care of Edith.
And then we came into the picture. They buttered us up and treated us nice and Doyle died hoping we would stay here, run the farm, and protect Edith and Harvey.
They do have crops and farm animals, but I don’t know the first thing about farming. The zombie hordes are fairly thin around here, but come fall I fear the deluge of meat puppets is going to trample this whole place like a stampede of buffalo.
I feel bad, but I think I have no choice but to ignore Doyle Cunningham’s dying wish. This is a nice place to visit but I am not going to be staying.
3 years ago
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