The Blacksmith and the Veterinarian

When he finished speaking, Gavin immediately answered the call and eagerly turned on speakerphone.

Beside him, Eugene thought for a moment before finally catching on.

If Madison wasn't the one calling Gavin, who else could it be?

If Doris and William's group weren't in danger, there'd be no reason for them to bypass Madison and call Gavin directly.

So if another member of the team was calling, that meant they were in trouble!

At that thought, Eugene's expression turned solemn, and he strained to hear the voice coming from the phone.

As Gavin and Eugene waited tensely, a few light coughs came through the phone, followed by a frail, elderly voice.

"Cough, cough. Damn it... Cough, cough, cough... Is that little Gavin?"

"That's right, this is Gavin. Who is this...?"

Gavin asked hesitantly.

He hadn't saved this number in his contacts, but whoever had his private number couldn't be a complete stranger.

As for the voice...

It was so hoarse and distorted that he couldn't tell who it belonged to!

After Gavin answered, the person on the other end coughed heavily twice, then spoke in an especially feeble voice.

"Good. Cough, cough. God, it's Albert. I changed my number a couple of years ago."

"Little Gavin, do you remember Old Robert? I held you when you were little... Cough... I—cough, cough, cough!"

A violent fit of coughing came through the phone. Eugene was even afraid the caller might cough up a lung!

As for Gavin...

The moment he heard Albert's name, he recognized it. Albert was an old friend of his father's and the first blacksmith and veterinarian on their farm.

More than a decade ago, before Gavin started making big money with his foresight, his family's farm covered only about three thousand acres.

Back then, there were fewer than forty households on the entire farm. Besides a dozen or so cowboy families, five or six hunting families, seven or eight fishing families, and the man who ran the bar, Old Albert was the farm's only blacksmith.

He'd made every horseshoe on the farm and trimmed every cow's hooves!

He sounded like he'd been a pretty laid-back guy, and he was. Old Robert had been easygoing and funny, and he'd even taken eleven-year-old Gavin deer hunting once.

But after Gavin started high school, he'd thrown himself into making money and football, first breaking into the college league and then making it to the NFL.

Gavin had been so busy that he could barely make it back to the farm, let alone catch up with Old Robert.

And as the farm's blacksmith, Old Robert had gradually become so busy as the farm expanded that he had no time to contact Gavin at all.

After briefly recalling what he knew about Albert, Gavin spoke into the phone, where coughs continued to ring out.

"How could I forget you, Albert? How are you doing now?"

"Me? Cough, cough!"

Old Robert coughed twice, then replied to Gavin weakly.

"Gavin, you can probably hear for yourself that I'm doing awful... Cough, cough."

"I think I caught a chill when I went swimming in the lake yesterday. I've had a terrible fever since early this morning, and my back and legs hurt so much I can't get up... Cough, cough..."

"God, my useless sons... Cough... Not one of them can get through on the phone."

"Those bastards only ever... cough... come to me for work. Now that I'm sick, not one of them cares for me..."

As he spoke, Old Robert's voice grew noticeably quieter.

Hearing that, Gavin took a deep breath and quickly replied.

"There might be another reason. Anyway, where are you now? Are you still staying in that cabin by the lake?"

"That's right. The lake water was... Cough, cough... too cold. Cough, cough, cough, cough..."

Old Robert went into another fit of coughing that lasted more than ten seconds. He finally managed to stop, then continued, his breathing trembling.

"I called my ex-wife. I called Joanna. I even called your parents, but none of them answered."

Old Robert took a deep breath, the sound loud enough to carry through the phone.

After letting it out, his voice grew even weaker. Exhausted and in pain, he went on.

"I've reached the age where everyone's sick of me. You're the only one who's answered my call. You're a good kid. Can you help me... help me get in touch with Joanna?"

"These old bones of mine are finally going to end up in Joanna's hospital bed... Cough... getting poked and prodded by her... Cough, cough, cough, cough!"

At that, Gavin sighed.

Joanna was the doctor in Gavin Farm's town. The farm had a small population, so one or two doctors were enough, and the town hospital had fewer than ten beds.

The situation was clear. Old Robert had been lucky enough to avoid turning into a zombie.

His lakeside cabin was a good seven or eight kilometers from the farm town, and even the nearest fishing cabins were at least a kilometer and a half away. There was no way a zombie would run that far to attack him.

But in Old Robert's condition, he seemed likely to meet God even without a zombie attacking him.

As for Joanna...

Gavin took a deep breath and spoke into the phone, one word at a time.

"I'm sorry, Albert, but Joanna is probably already dead."

"And my parents... I don't want to admit it, but they're dead too. There's almost no chance of a miracle."

"Anyway, no one can go save you right now. You have to hold on a little longer, at least until I get back."

"I've already passed through Ennis Town and I'm on my way to Coskana, but I can't promise how soon I'll reach you!"

"Cough—what the hell... Have you been drinking?"

Old Robert's coughing suddenly intensified, but Gavin continued in a heavy voice.

"Listen to me, Albert. You have to hold on a little longer by yourself!"

"I'll come find you. No matter what, don't leave your house before I get there..."

Beep, beep.

Before Gavin could finish, Albert hung up.

Holding the phone, Gavin fell silent for a moment, then slipped it back into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

Eugene tossed him a lighter. While Gavin lit up, Eugene asked hesitantly,

"Is he from your family's farm?"

"He's the professional blacksmith and part-time veterinarian on our farm."

After answering, Gavin fell silent for a moment, then added,

"He really did hold me when I was little."

With that, Gavin rolled down the window and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

Eugene nodded and gave a bitter smile.

"Right. I really don't know what to say to make you feel better, and I don't even know if this is good news or bad news."

"But he didn't turn straight into a zombie. With luck like that, a high fever might not beat him."

"So there's no need to worry. Once we get to your family's farm, everything will be fine. Ha ha!"

Eugene gave a strained chuckle and tossed his cigarette butt out the window.

Gavin merely shook his head and said nothing.

They drove on in silence for nearly another two kilometers. By then, they'd traveled almost five kilometers, and the road had turned out to be unexpectedly long.

But the journey ended there. After Gavin rounded another bend, the end of the road finally came into view.

Gavin pulled over and used his binoculars to look toward a pasture three hundred meters away. Nearly twenty recreational vehicles of various kinds were gathered there, fourteen of them trailers.

"Is that an RV park?" Eugene asked, standing beside Gavin. "Why isn't there a sign?"

"It's a private RV party, not a campground. I can see the bus that brought the models. They're all the usual kind."

As he answered Eugene, Gavin kept looking at a small château-style estate a hundred and forty meters beyond the RV gathering. It was secluded, and every window was covered with curtains.

Eugene pursed his lips and scoffed.

"With everything covered up like that, it's obviously where rich perverts go to play. They even went out of their way to hide it this far away. Think there are any kids among the people those buses brought?"

As he spoke, Eugene instinctively patted his shotgun.

Gavin lowered the binoculars and slowly walked toward Tyrannosaurus.

As he climbed into the vehicle, he said,

"I'll mark it on the map. It could work as a campsite in a pinch. I doubt there are more than a hundred people in the estate. We might be able to use noise as bait to lure them away."

Eugene nodded along and smiled.

"This place really is pretty good. We could also set some traps along the road to keep out any bastards with bad intentions."

"Of course, there's a downside too: there's only one road out. If someone blocks it, unless they have a plane in there, there's no way they're driving out."