“So where to now?” She asked after they said their goodbyes and settled into the Merc. “We’re not really going to New Jersey, are we?”
“Maybe.” Jessie said “I need to find some goats but we need to clear out of Iona’s patrol territory first. I wanted to take that van but I guess we’ll use the car. We can get four or five in the back seat.”
It took a lot more explaining but she got excited and started pointing out likely places.
They stayed on the back roads and stopped at small farms and every time she was sure this one would be the one. They found trapped zombies, feral pigs and some grazing cows but goats were in short supply. The problem he was having in the heavily populated state was there wasn’t much isolated country. Houses were close together; it was unheard of to drive a half hour without seeing another building like he did in the Midwest. A trail of undead followed them and when they stopped, sometimes they caught up. Once Jessie had managed to corner a chicken in a shed but had to let it go and draw his guns when a bunch of the deaders managed to get between them and the car.
They moved on, kept to the rural areas and blasted through towns at eighty miles an hour when they couldn’t avoid them. He was getting frustrated at their lack of progress and the farther away they got the grumpier he became. It was hard to stay mad though when Natty read stupid knock knock jokes from a book or made him hold out his shifting hand so she could practice with the nail polish she’d found.
“There!” he said and pointed, ruining the perfect pink outline she’d been doing on the blue fingernail.
The Billy Goats Gruff Caprine Emporium was jauntily painted on a wooden sign with an arrow pointing down a long driveway.
Got Goat? It asked then above the arrow Goat Cheese, Goat Soap, Goat Butter, Goat Milk
“Finally.” Jessie said and cut the wheel. “Figures we’d have to go all the way to Pennsylvania to find a damn goat.”
The Billy Goats Gruff had been a small working farm that had catered to a devoted internet following and tourists wanting all-natural products. Like many places he’d visited over the years, where the people went was a mystery. The house was closed but not locked. A car sat in the drive but a place like this must have had a truck and it was gone. The gates to the pens were open, the goats, miniature cattle, chickens and donkeys were free to come and go as they pleased but they hadn’t wandered far. They still sheltered in the barns every night.
“All right.” Jessie said as they got out and stretched. “Let’s make sure the buildings are clear then we can grab some and go.”
There were fifteen or twenty wandering around near the stream that bordered the property and he saw a few babies mixed in.
“Here goat.” He called as he neared, walking slowly, trying not to spook them. “Come here, come to poppa.”
A big one with horns stamped its foot and snorted at him. He ignored it and angled towards a female that was watching him with her big, square pupiled eyes. As he neared, she trotted off and Jessie leaped after her, lightning fast and dove for a leg when she bleated and took off. He wrestled her to the ground, got kicked in the head but hung on and wrapped his arms around her.
“Watch out!” Natty yelled just as he saw the buck running at full bore with his head lowered. It did a little jump and the horns caught him in the side as he tried to deflect it and hold on to the doe.
Jessie cursed, lost his grip on the madly writhing female and stumbled over backwards when he got kicked again. He sat in a pile of droppings as the buck ran off to catch up with the rest of the herd. They stopped about fifty yards away and some of them went back to grazing.
He heard a giggle from Natty as he got to his feet and tried to brush the manure off his pants.
“I thought you were going to catch the chickens.” He said, annoyed.
“I’ll wait until dark. They’ll come back to roost. Easy to get when sleeping.”
Jessie sighed and walked back up the hill to the barns. The goats watched, the cows kept their distance and the hens ignored him. Maybe she was right. Wait till dark, close the doors and then take his pick. Hopefully he hadn’t made them so skittish that they wouldn’t return when he was there. He tossed a few bales of straw down from the loft and spread it over the thick manure. He probably should have shoveled it out but it wouldn’t have made any difference. The barn would be back in the same condition in a few months. He found the grain boxes and dumped big scoops out in the feeder trays. That would motivate them to come back. After that they stayed quiet and hung out around the house, just an ordinary day doing ordinary things. A long, strung out horde hurried down the road about an hour later, followers from the last little town. It passed them by and kept on going. Jessie went back to washing his clothes and hanging them up to dry. It had been a while; he’d been wearing the least dirty of them for a week. They found canned goods and spices in the house and some wild potatoes in the overgrown garden. Jessie shot a chicken with the .22 and skinned it like Tobias had shown him with the quails then sliced it into thin strips. It browned quickly and was easy
