With no signs of the rain stopping, I tried looking for an umbrella, but the house had none, so I readied myself for a dash. Fortunately, I had both cans filled.
Even with extraordinary speed, I still lost to the rain, so I just gave up on it; the risk of spilling the gas was too much. I started my car and began my journey back to the farm, my clothes dripping wet.
The rain followed me.
By the time I returned to the farm, the road had turned slick and dark, the headlights cutting a dim path through the mist and drizzle. The windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the rain, a constant hiss and patter filling the car. I kept glancing at the canisters in the backseat—one for here, another for the Inn. Small victories.
When I parked outside the barn, I noticed the lights were on in the main house. The curtains were drawn back just enough to catch the silhouette of someone pacing. A shadow paused near the window before vanishing deeper inside.
I stepped out into the rain, pulling one of the canisters out of the car. My boots sank into the wet dirt as I approached the door. I knocked twice and sat the canister beside me.
It was Maggie who opened it. I stayed at the door, not entering inside, seeing her eyes flicker with worry.
"Gas," I said, pointing to it.
Then Hershel appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a cloth. He looked at me with those heavy, weathered eyes of his.
"Come in," he said. "You're soaked."
I blinked but didn't question his out-of-character behaviour. I took off my dirty boots at the door, and with the gas in hand, I stepped inside. The warmth of the house hit me like a wave. Beth sat at the table, a book in her lap, her finger tapping rapidly on the edge of it, while Shawn leaned against the wall, a steaming cup in hand.
"What brings you back, Wesker?"
"A trade," I replied, nodding to the can in my hand.
He simply nodded, heading back to the kitchen. "Eat with us, will you?" he called out
"Why not?" I said. The sound of the rain and thunder outside was only increasing.
I set the gas to the side. "You should change into something that's not dripping wet," Shawn said with a chuckle.
"I'll be back in a minute," I said to the family as I stepped out of the house into the rain and toward my car.
I picked up a bag from inside and walked back to the house, water dripping from the hem of my shirt and the edge of my sleeves. The bag was an old black duffle, heavier than it looked, filled with essential and spare clothes—a habit I'd developed over the last few days surviving in this world. Walker's blood ruined everything.
As I walked back, I saw Maggie standing on the porch, looking at me. "Somewhere I can change?" I asked her as I climbed up the porch.
Maggie hesitated for a moment, then nodded, "Follow me."
She started to walk ahead of me to show the way.
We walked past the family. Shawn was helping his dad in the kitchen while Beth stayed where she was before.
She reached the door, turned the handle, and looked over her shoulder. "Towels should be in the cabinet if you need one."
"Thanks," I said, stepping past her, brushing her shoulder lightly—just a moment of contact.
I felt her pause as I passed. Her arm still extended on the doorknob, her breath a little unsteady.
Finally inside. I was about to close the door when she stepped inside and closed it behind her.
"Let me help you," she said softly, her voice quieter than usual.
"Your family is right outside," I said. My words might have sounded worried, but my actions weren't, as I peeled off the soaked shirt and tossed it into the corner.
Maggie smirked and opened the cabinet, pulling out a towel, and closed the distance between us. I stood still, analyzing her.
She pressed the towel gently against my chest, her fingers lingering longer than necessary as she began to dab away the rain. I watched her expression—half determination, half hesitation.
The room was dimly lit, the single bulb casting a soft glow along the walls and the slick gleam of water on my skin. Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us said a word.
"Not to be the bearer of bad news," I started. Her hand moved slower as the words left my mouth.
"I-" Before I could say anything, she placed her finger on my lips, setting the towel aside. Now, her bare hands traced my chest and abdomen.
"I don't care," she whispered.
I wanted to grab and press her against the wall, but the water on my body would wet her clothes, and I didn't want to be kicked off of this farm twice.
I grabbed her wandering arm and leaned in for a kiss. Just as our lips touched, a voice came.
"Dinner's ready!"
Beth's voice came from the living room.
Maggie, startled, stepped back as if a cord had been cut. I chuckled, which earned me a frown from her. She quickly turned and, facing the mirror, straightened her light-blue shirt with shaky hands.
I dried my wet hands with the towel. "Go," I said, my dried hand reaching her ass with quick movement, with a light smack! It stayed there, feeling the warm suppleness of it, and her breath hitched for a moment before she ran out the door with flushed cheeks.
I picked up the towel and dried myself before pulling the shirt over and sliding up the new pair of pants. I stepped back into the hall, and the smell of food filled the air inside.
***
The rain still tapped against the window by the time dinner was served. A meager spread: boiled potatoes, half a head of cabbage, and some jerky on a white plate.
We sat around the dining table—Hershel at the head, Shawn across from him, I sat beside Maggie, and across from her was Beth.
Hershel said grace, his voice quiet, tired. We all bowed our heads, hands folded or simply still.
By the time we raised our heads, I noticed Maggied shift beside me—not much, just a slight lean.
Beth picked at her food with more caution than appetite. Her eyes didn't meet mine once.
Conversation was slow, mostly just Shawn mentioning what repairs the barn still needed and Maggie listing what vegetables had started to rot, which were ready to pluck.
Then I felt it.
Something soft, Purposeful.
Maggie's foot.
It brushed against my feet, slow, deliberate. A second later, it slid higher. Two can play this game, I sat in silence, not a flinch on my face. My eyes were on my plate, my fork moved mechanically.
The fot curled around my shin and held for a moment—heat lingering through the fabric.
I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She turned to me with a smirk on her face.
Across the table, Beth mindlessly poking her food with the fork dropped it to the floor, she quickly went down.
Her wide blue eyes locked on what she saw beneath the table, her face pale.
Shawn glanced over. "Did you find it?"
As Maggie and I finally looked toward Beth, only to find an empty seat, Maggie's foot was gone the next moment. She kept eating, cool as ever, at least on the surface.
Beth finally sat up, her eyes flickering at everything except me or Maggie.
I took a sip of glass of water and sat back slightly in my chair, letting the silence stretch.
***
After dinner was over, Maggie collected the empty plates. "You can stay the night if you want to," I heard Hershel say. I turned to him. I was to refuse, but the rain whispering in my ear changed my mind.
.
.
.