The lunch proceeded at a leisurely pace, the kind of meal that harkened back to the old days, before everything ended, before the dead rose and began hunting the living.
The stew was good, salted just right, with chunks of carrot and potato that still retained a slight trace of crunchiness, reminding him that, despite the end of the world, some small normalities still endured.
Jason ate slowly, savoring each bite, while the afternoon sun filtered through the thin curtains, painting golden stripes across the table.
Otis was the first to break the silence, leaning forward with a curious smile: "So, Jason, tell us, how did a guy like you end up in Georgia? Or are you from here?"
Jason wiped his mouth with the napkin before responding, keeping his tone honest.
"No, I'm not from Georgia, actually, I'm from Canada. I was doing an exchange program at the university in Athens. Psychology, like I told Maggie. I thought it would just be studying and then going back home, but... well, the world had other plans. I survived by taking back roads, avoiding big cities. Nothing heroic, just luck really...."
Maggie, sitting beside him, nodded, her green eyes shining with interest.
"He told me about some improvised camps he set up. Sounds dangerous, but practical. Did you use traps for animals?"
"A few times..." Jason admitted, with a half-smile. He had learned to set traps and hunt animals in his past life, with his father, who was an exceptional hunter. So it wasn't exactly a lie, just knowledge adapted to this new world. After a short pause, he continued: "Mostly rabbits. I learned quickly that fire attracts trouble, so I ate raw when I had to. I don't recommend it..."
Otis laughed, lightly tapping the table.
"Ha! I've been hunting here on the farm for years, but raw? Not even dead. Or rather, not even alive...."
Hershel observed in silence for a moment, but eventually joined the conversation, his voice deep and thoughtful.
"And your family? You mentioned Canada. Any news from them before the lines went down?"
Jason felt a tightness in his chest, but he maintained sincerity or as close to it as he could within that web of adapted truths.
"Nothing. My parents were in Canada, my sister in New York. I tried using the radio for a while, but... just silence." He shrugged, as if it were a minor detail, though it wasn't: "It's better not to dwell on it, you know? Better to focus on the now..."
Jimmy, who until then had only been listening, cleared his throat and asked quietly, almost embarrassed.
"Have you seen many... of those? In the cities?"
Maggie shot a quick glance at her father, but Jason responded carefully.
"Some. Enough to know it's better to stay away. But let's talk about better things; are these vegetables from your garden?"
Patricia smiled faintly from across the table, but said nothing, just served a bit more water. Beth, beside her, nibbled on the bread in silence, her blue eyes blinking with curiosity, but without venturing to speak.
The conversation continued like that, light and steady. Otis told stories of old hunts, while Maggie prodded Jason with questions about all sorts of things, clearly trying to build a good image of him in her father's eyes, and fortunately, it was working. Hershel interjected once or twice, always pointedly, probing practical skills, like someone surveying the terrain before taking a step forward. Jason responded without embellishments, mixing what he had really experienced with what needed to fit into this new world.
Overall, he was good at hunting and setting traps, something he had learned from his father since he was very young. He also knew how to fish, since his father loved that kind of activity and took him whenever he could. He had a good grasp of psychology and, thanks to his advantage, that knowledge had been elevated to another level; he didn't just understand the subject, he mastered it perfectly.
In the same way, he was competent in household tasks and knew how to drive practically any type of vehicle, except for helicopters and airplanes. As a result, he had notions of mechanics, nothing advanced, just the basics needed to keep things running.
Still, all these skills, as common as they might seem at first glance, had been taken to the extreme because of his [Perfect Mastery] trait. Honestly, he was a bit anxious to discover to what extent his old competencies had reached...
When the plates were empty, Jason stood up, stacking his own and reaching for the others.
"Let me wash them. It's the least I can do after this meal."
Maggie shook her head immediately, placing her hand on his arm with genuine concern in her eyes.
"No way. You were almost dead three days ago. Sit down and rest..."
"I'm fine, really..." He insisted, with a smile: "I'm not made of glass...."
"Don't argue...." She retorted, firm but affectionate, as if she had known him for months: "It'll get worse if you push it...."
Hershel nodded, standing up.
"She's right, son. We'll take care of the rest. For now, you should rest, if you want to help. You'll have that opportunity later on.." He gestured to Otis and Jimmy: "Come on, boys. The fences don't fix themselves...."
The three went out the back door, the sound of boots echoing on the porch. Patricia, Beth, and Maggie began collecting the dishes, a silent and efficient ritual.
Jason tried to help again, but Maggie gently pushed him out.
"Go to the porch. There's a good rocking chair there. Rest...."
He relented, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. He passed through the simple living room, the old and cozy furniture, and spotted a shelf with a few dusty books. One caught his attention: a basic first aid manual, worn cover, probably something they had had for a long time. He picked it up, flipping through it out of curiosity, and went out to the porch.
The air was fresh, laden with the smell of damp earth and distant hay. He settled into the rocking chair, the wood creaking lightly, and opened the book. The pages were straightforward, filled with simple diagrams on bandages, artificial respiration, and various other procedures. It was an updated and medical version, not something you'd buy on any street corner. Probably Hershel's, who had good medical skills; although his focus was veterinary, he had certainly studied books aimed at people as well.
He began reading calmly, absorbing every word while rocking the chair one last time.
Right from the first pages, something changed. It wasn't a sudden shock or a dramatic enlightenment, but a gradual realization: whenever he encountered an incomplete explanation, a point that would normally raise doubts, the answer simply emerged in his mind, as if it had been there all along, fitting perfectly into what was written. He advanced through the pages, his heart starting to beat faster. Basic techniques gave way to more complex procedures. Hemorrhages, fractures, infections, burns, improvised amputations. Each topic expanded in his mind, as if the book were just a reduced index of something much larger...
Basically, the [Perfect Mastery] transformed that knowledge into one of his competencies in an absolute way, reaching the highest possible level within the subject. It was as if he had lived an eternity studying, practicing, erring, and correcting every imaginable procedure, and that book had merely awakened it all at once. His mind now overflowed with knowledge about first aid for practically any situation one could imagine.
The sensation of learning was surprisingly ordinary for something so supernatural; there was no headache upon finishing, nor any other side effect. Jason closed the book and made a strange expression. His heart was astonished. Knowing about the existence of a skill that could only be classified as supernatural was one thing, but experiencing its use firsthand was something completely different.
Setting aside the emotion of the initial shock, he realized something was off the moment he closed the book and the rocking of the chair continued, as if the world around him were operating at a different pace from his own.
Jason frowned and looked at the cover again; the book had seventy-six pages. His gaze instinctively slid to the sun, assessing its position in the sky, and then to the shadow cast by the porch column. It had barely moved. Two... maybe three minutes, at most, had passed since he started reading.
He swallowed hard.
Thinking about it, he already imagined that his reading ability had also been enhanced, just like all his mental faculties, including memory, had been. So he wasn't exactly surprised by the realization itself, just deeply shaken by experiencing this phenomenon firsthand.
It wasn't just the content that had been absorbed absurdly by his brain. The reading itself had been too fast. Not a rushed or superficial reading; he remembered every line perfectly, every illustration, every footnote. He even remembered the exact sensation of turning each page.
Stopping to think, during the reading his brain didn't seem to have strained, become overloaded, or been artificially accelerated. On the contrary. Everything flowed with an unsettling calm, as if that had always been the correct way to function, while the rest of the world was simply... slow. But this only happened while he was reading. Now that he had stopped, everything seemed normal again. Nothing was in slow motion...
In other words, the reading speed that was already high in his past life had become superhuman in this new existence. He could basically read thousands of books per day, depending on the number of pages in each; even if they were larger than the one he had just read, he could still finish hundreds of them, which, without a doubt, was great news.
Jason blinked, trying to process what had just happened. He leaned back in the chair, the gentle rocking helping to calm the whirlwind in his mind, and tried not to think too much about how far that took him from what was "human."
That was when he heard light footsteps on the porch wood. Maggie appeared around the corner, wiping her hands on an old cloth, her brown hair gently tousled by the breeze, some loose strands framing her face. She stopped when she saw him there, the book in his lap, and a smile emerged slowly, one of those that lit up the eyes before the mouth.
"Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost...." She approached, leaning on the porch railing, her arms crossed in a casual way, but her green eyes fixed on him with that mix of curiosity and concern that he was already starting to recognize as typical of her.
Jason laughed softly, closing the book and setting it aside.
"Nothing like that. Just... reading. Your dad has some good books here. This first aid one is pretty practical...."
She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head.
"Practical? You just woke up from a fever that almost killed you and you're already studying how to heal others? You should be resting for real, not filling your head with more stuff..."
"I can't stay still...." He admitted, with a crooked smile: "Besides, knowledge is never too much in this world. What if I need to help someone one of these days...."
Maggie let out a muffled laugh, but came closer, pulling an old chair near him and sitting down. The sun hit her face from the side, highlighting even more how beautiful it was; her lips curved slightly when she was relaxed.
"You're weird, you know? When we talked, I noticed you're the type of person who thinks a lot about the future, even in a situation like ours, where most people only think about surviving, and nothing else. Is it hope?"
Jason shrugged, but couldn't help noticing how she leaned a little forward, as if she wanted to shorten the distance between them.
"I believe that, somehow, things will get better. We're not going to stay forever with the world the way it is now. At least, I want to work so that it doesn't continue like this forever. So, I guess you can call it hope, yes. Maybe it's a bit foolish to have all this optimism, but I've always been stubborn..."
In truth, he believed that part of that optimism he showed during his conversations with Maggie came from the fact that he hadn't yet fully experienced this post-apocalyptic world. Besides, he had advantages that, in the future, would allow him to fix this world, and that was something he intended to do. It was the right thing to do, wasn't it?
Maggie looked in his direction; her green eyes met the boy's honey-colored eyes, and complex emotions shone in her pupils. Then she said: "I don't think it's foolish. It's just rare, like I said before, and also a bit nostalgic. I was like that before all this. I wanted to go to college, travel, see the world beyond the farm... Of course, Dad hated the idea. He said the world out there was too dangerous. And look... he ended up being right..."
Jason observed the way she lowered her eyes for a second, vulnerable, before lifting her chin again. He smiled faintly and said:
"Yes, in an ironic way, he ended up being right. But that doesn't mean you can't go out there.... I mean, going back to my optimistic side that you said is rare. The good part about the world the way it is now is that you have all the time in the world to do what you want. Of course, you need to be careful and survive, which is the annoying part, but you can just take a car and travel around, as long as you're cautious... You still want that, right? To travel, see what's left..."
Maggie blinked, surprised, and nodded slowly.
"Sometimes. Like... I imagine what New York would be like now, or the Grand Canyon. But... it's silly. What matters is here, keeping everyone safe."
Her eyes met his, and for an instant.
"And you? What do you really want? Besides surviving and staying here on the farm with us...."
"Look, that's a good question...." Jason hesitated, but decided to be honest, or as honest as he could be: "And the answer is pretty simple actually, I want a place to call home again. I don't want to keep being alone, you know? Talking with Otis, Patricia, Beth, Jimmy, and even your dad was really nice. Not as much as talking with you, of course.... But it's been a while since I talked like that with anyone."
Maggie blushed slightly, but didn't look away.
"Yeah... I get it. I also... It's been a long time since I talked to anyone like this. Here on the farm, we have each other, but sometimes it feels like something's missing. Like the world stole a piece of us, so I felt pretty alone too.... but that changed when I met you. Of course, that doesn't come close to what you went through on the road alone...." She extended her hand and lightly touched his arm, a simple gesture that sent a subtle shiver down Jason's spine: "But you're not alone now. At least while I'm here."
The touch lasted longer than necessary, and Jason felt his heart race. He covered her hand with his, squeezing lightly.
"Thanks, Maggie. Seriously. You... you make this seem possible."
She laughed, but it was a nervous laugh, her eyes shining more than before.
"Don't thank me yet. Dad's stubborn too. But I'll talk to him...."
"Thanks again..." Jason smiled faintly.
Maggie nodded, her thumb still lightly brushing the back of his hand, as if the gesture were natural, inevitable.
The afternoon sun was starting to set, lengthening the shadows on the farm's lawn, and the air carried a distant smell of turned earth, mixed with the muffled sound of hammering coming from somewhere near the fences. But there, on the porch, the world seemed smaller, just the two of them....
"You know how to convince people, huh?" She murmured, her tone playful, but with a layer of something deeper underneath: "With that smile and those stories... I bet during your exchange, the girls didn't give you a break..."
Jason laughed, genuinely amused, but felt a bit embarrassed: "Nothing like that. I was the quiet guy, more in books than at parties. But I admit you got me. It's easy to talk to you. Like we've known each other longer than a few hours...."
Maggie tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in a mischievous smile.
"Yeah, right? I feel the same. Like... you really listen. You don't just nod. My dad is like that, but with him it's always a moral lesson at the end. With you..." She stopped, biting her lower lip for a second, as if weighing her words. "With you it's different. It makes me feel seen, and not like someone whose opinion sometimes doesn't even matter...."
Jason's heart skipped a beat. He squeezed her hand a little more, feeling the softness of her skin and the warmth from the touch, and said, with sincerity: "You deserve that. To be seen. You're strong, Maggie. From what you said, you take care of everyone here... but who takes care of you? So, leave that job to me. If I stay on the farm, you can count on me for everything..."
Maggie blinked slowly, her green eyes softening with a mix of surprise and something warmer, as if his words had touched a place she didn't even know hurt. The blush rose to her cheeks again, but this time she didn't try to hide it. She just squeezed his hand back, their fingers intertwining more firmly, as if she needed to anchor herself in that contact.
"No one's ever asked me that like this...." She murmured, her voice low, almost husky, accompanied by a shy smile that couldn't disguise the vulnerability. "I... I take care of them because it's what I know how to do. But hearing you say that... makes me want to believe it's possible to share the responsibility with someone. Maybe I do need someone like you. Someone who sees beyond the tough farm girl."
She leaned a little further forward, the air between them growing heavier, their gazes locked on each other. For a second, it seemed like she would say something more, maybe even close the distance for good.
Then, heavy footsteps echoed on the porch. Jimmy appeared around the corner, wiping sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve, his young face still flushed from the effort of the work outside.
"Hey, Maggie," he called, hesitant, as if he knew he was interrupting something: "Your dad is asking for help with the horses. One of the fences is loose, and he wants to reinforce it before nightfall."
Maggie sighed, the moment breaking, but she didn't let go of Jason's hand immediately. Instead, she gave it a squeeze, almost like a silent promise, before standing up.
"Okay, Jimmy. I'm coming."
She looked back at Jason, the smile still there, soft, loaded with intention.
"We'll continue later?"
Jason nodded without hesitation, the smile emerging naturally, almost inevitably.
"Of course." He paused briefly and added, in a genuine tone: "And... if you need help, I can go too. I don't like the idea of sitting around while everyone works."
Maggie had already expected that. She shook her head immediately, firm, before he could even fully stand up.
"No way." The response came quickly, but accompanied by an affectionate smile. "You're still recovering...."
"I really feel fine..." Jason tried to argue.
"I know." She leaned in a bit, lowering her voice. "But feeling fine isn't the same as being fine. Rest. That's your task for now."
Before he could respond, Maggie squeezed his hand one more time, a short gesture, but full of meaning, as if she wanted to etch that moment. Then, she released it slowly, reluctantly, and stood up, taking a step back.
"Don't go anywhere, okay?" She said, almost in a joking tone. "When I come back, I want to know if you followed orders."
Jason laughed softly. "I promise to try."
She nodded, satisfied, and then turned, following Jimmy toward the back of the house. Jason stayed seated, watching as she walked away. Maggie's silhouette stood out against the golden light of the late afternoon, her simple dress swaying lightly with the wind, her step firm and confident like someone carrying far more responsibilities than she appeared to.
He only looked away when she disappeared beyond the porch.
Jason leaned back in the rocking chair, exhaling slowly, a calm smile still on his lips.
Maybe it was too soon to think about the future. Maybe it was too naive to believe in something as simple as belonging. Still, as the gentle creak of the chair mingled with the distant sounds of the farm, a silent certainty formed in his mind.
If he had to be reborn in that doomed world, he couldn't have parachuted into a better place.
The Greene farm... it had definitely been a stroke of luck.