#silenceofthesparrow

           "Hey, Jake! Wait up!" Addie handed off her basket of vegetables she was carrying to one of the mess hall workers and trotted over up to the man. She'd seen him walking by the garden, and took the opportunity to try to talk to him while he was alone. Though, really, it seemed like he was alone a lot. Even though he'd come into the compound with a group a few weeks back and took them up on their offer for him to stay there for a while, she always seemed to catch him off by himself. She wasn't very sure how often, or if at all, that he mingled with others, but then again, she had her own chores to deal with so it wasn't like she could just follow him around.

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"It's okay," he insisted again, pressing his cheek against her forehead. "It's gonna be tough, sure, but we have friends here. A home. People might not agree with this but they won't abandon us. We'll be just fine."

Tyler tried his best to believe his own words, and part of him did. Both he and Iris worked hard to help their community and keep it safe just like everyone else did. He didn't really think they'd abandon one- or in this case, two- of their own just for getting pregnant. A baby was a rare thing these days, and despite the dangers having one posed, he was fairly certain that most of the others in the compound would agree that it was still a blessing.

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“I wish these fuckers only came out at night like the zombies in I Am Legend,” is the first thing Michael mumbles after several minutes of silence. He’s pressed against a wall, ears trained on the slightest of clicking sounds he hopes he won’t hear coming from the room they need to pass. He’d be drowning in his own nervous sweat if the surprisingly cool breeze didn’t help cool him down.

The sun was just starting to set when the pair crossed perimeter fencing of the farm. Taking the trail worn into the dirt by the caravans and other nomadic groups reduced their chances of being shot before they could reach the large farmhouse in the middle of the property, and Tyler's good standing with the residents of the farm ensured they received a warm welcome when they came closer to the house. As soon as they reached the gate of the front yard, Miss Helen, who owned the farm with her husband Gerald and was in her mid-sixties though she got around nearly as good as someone half her age, was hurrying out of the house to throw her arms around Tyler's neck with a squeal of delight as if he were her son or grandson. After they'd embraced, Helen turned her attention to Sam, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the blonde. "Who is this?" she cooed excitedly. "A lady friend, Tyler? You've never brought a girl here before."

"This is Sam," he answered with a slightly embarrassed smile, motioning Sam forward. "She's a friend from the Dolan Farmstead." He paused for a moment, frowning as the memory of what happened to the settlement drifted back to their minds. "Um, anyway, we need a place to stay for a bit. Get patched up and such before I need to get back to Bunker Hill to take care of a few things. Do you mind, Miss Helen?"

"Of course, not! We're always happy to have you stop in for a visit!" The older woman rolled her hands, motioning for them to come inside the old farmhouse, soft brown eyes looking them over with a hint of concern at their ragged appearances. "I'll boil up some extra hot water so you two can have a proper bath, and I'm certain we've got something in that old chest that will fit you both so you don't have to put those dirty clothes back on." She kept to her ushering all the way through the door, stopping only to cross over to the fireplace and stir the contents of a good-sized black cauldron-style pot hanging from a hook coming out of the brick. "Supper will be ready soon. It's just stew, but it'll fill you up and get you to feeling right again." Then she went through the house and out the back door to the fire pit behind the house to add more water to the larger cauldron pot and stoke the fire.

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Finding the reservoir after six days of nervous travel was lucky. Discovering that it had been privately owned with a still-intact and sturdy eight-foot-tall fence surrounding the property was beyond fortunate. It took less than a day for the group to unanimously agree to stay. They had fresh water continuously supplied by a creek that branched off the nearby river, the sections of fence-line that crossed over the creek still allowing fish to swim through but nothing larger, a variety of fish in the ten-acre lake, about twenty additional acres of land for them to use for crops and building, and the five-bedroom house was certainly a solid starting point for a small, controlled settlement.

A short month and a half later, and the fence-line had a barbed wire top and dozens more reinforcement posts, the dock had been repaired and reinforced, a couple small shed-sized buildings had been erected for some members of the group so not everyone was crammed so tightly into the main house. Tyler and Jacob had become closer in the process, being two of the small handful of members who were healthier and stronger so they were depended on more to gather supplies and do security patrols while the fence was being reinforced with extra posts and another layer of wire, which made the former lawman grateful to have another person to talk to and keep him from dwelling too much on his past mistakes and regrets.