Chapter Thirty: Occupying One Hundred Forty Thousand Acres

Seeing Gavin eating with such gusto, Eugene hurriedly waved at Doris.

"Oi, beautiful, could you get me a plate? I nearly peed myself back there, and I’m dying to refuel!"

"Oh? Sorry, coming right up!"

Doris was startled by Eugene and scrambled to hand out the remaining plates. As Eugene reached greedily for one, Madison gave his hand a heavy slap. Rolling his eyes, Madison snapped at him:

"Man, we might be skipping grace, but you could at least try to have some manners!"

"Grace? Screw grace!" Eugene curled his lip in disdain. "From here on out, the only thing I’m thanking God for is that He didn't turn me into a walker. As for prayer, you want me to pray to the shitty apocalypse? What am I supposed to say? 'Thanks for turning all my relatives into corpses and tossing my future into the toilet to swirl around like a lump of crap'? Get out of here!"

Gus, as he cursed, he grabbed a plate and spoon, clattering them together. When Doris moved to hand a plate to William, he was staring blankly at the ground, failing to reach out.

"Hey... Officer? Your... your plate." Doris bit her lip nervously, nudging it toward him.

William finally snapped out of it, slowly taking the plate and spoon, only to return to his trance on the camping blanket. Seeing this, Eugene let out a scoff of contempt and grabbed a handful of tortillas, tossing them onto William's plate.

"Hey, kid, get our little Officer brother here some stew to plug his mouth before he starts sobbing again!" Eugene shouted at Winnie. Winnie shot him a glare and retorted, "I don't want another little brother, unless he can do my homework for me. Too bad I don't have to do that anymore!"

Well, even a smart kid like Winnie still loathed homework. Eugene blinked, confused, and asked, "Homework? How old are you, starting that already? I never did homework back in middle school!"

"Give it a rest, Eugene. You probably went to a public school filled with gang-banger wannabes and hookers," Madison teased, soaking a tortilla in broth and shoving it into his mouth.

Eugene didn't argue, instead lifting his beer toward Madison and saying, "Public, private, it’s all bullshit now. Here’s to the schools that are gone, and here’s to never having to worry about my son’s grades again!"

"Wait, you have a son?" Madison asked, surprised, as Eugene had only ever mentioned his sister and nephew.

Eugene glanced at Doris, shook his head, and laughed. "I meant a future son. As for now, the woman who’s going to bear me a son hasn't shown up yet. Besides, I actually prefer daughters. Cheers!"

With that, their bottles clinked, and they took long, deep gulps. Madison finished his entire beer and set the bottle aside. As Eugene handed him a fresh one, he asked, "What about you, big guy? You married?"

"Sure am. And I’ve got six kids—four boys and two girls."

"Fuck, that was fast, and early! You definitely didn't waste that frame of yours!" Eugene exclaimed. He suddenly remembered something, and his expression dimmed into silence.

Beside him, the lethargic William looked up and asked, "What about your wife and kids, Madison? Are they..."

"Enough, William. Don't make me kick you while I’m trying to eat," Eugene interrupted sharply.

Madison, caught off guard by the question, took a deep breath and looked at Eugene. "Forget it, Red. Even if the kid doesn't say it, the truth doesn't change. The truth is, I’m helpless right now. My wife and kids are in Chicago. What do you want me to do, hold a crucifix and sing Hallelujah, then floor the gas pedal and drive a thousand miles under the protection of the Almighty?"

Madison slumped his shoulders. Not far away, Doris and Winnie, who had been in better spirits, were suddenly reminded of their own families and sank into gloom. The morale that had lifted after Eugene and the others survived began to crumble, a low pressure system settling over the blanket that even made Gavin look up.

Swallowing a chunk of meat, Gavin raised his beer and said, "This one is for the road ahead. I hope it gets easier. Once we reach my place, we’ll finally have something to look forward to."

"Is that so?" Seeing Gavin speak, Eugene clinked his bottle against Gavin's. "I gotta say, Quarterback, I really had no idea where we were headed. Seems like you’ve had a target in mind all along."

"My ranch," Gavin replied briefly.

Eugene clapped his hands. "Whoa, I wasn't a fan of yours, so I had no idea a big star and millionaire like you was secretly a rancher." He looked Gavin up and down. Even in his dark blue athletic gear, the muscles in Gavin's flexed arms were clearly defined. "You and Madison have the build for cowboys, sure—you could probably wrestle a bull to the ground—but is your place really worth all this trouble?"

Eugene gestured to the dry grass and the lake around them. "Isn't camping here safe enough? We’ve got a lake on the right, woods on the left, the nearby towns are tiny, and we’re over fifty miles from Dallas. If your place isn't better than this, don't expect me to risk my life trekking there!"

Eugene sat back, clutching his beer, staring coldly at Gavin. Beside him, Madison frowned, clanking his spoon against his plate. "What the hell is wrong with you, Red? Do you think the boss is going home just to look for his family? The stew is wasted on you. Just listen to the plan!"

After scolding Eugene, Madison looked at Gavin with anticipation. Gavin smiled—he realized Madison was worried about the future, too, and was using Eugene to fish for information.

Gavin nodded, scooped a spoonful of meat into his mouth, and spoke while chewing. "Eugene, you already said it—I’m a star, and a millionaire. So, my ranch covers 140,000 acres."

He took another bite of rice soaked in broth. Across from him, everyone fell silent. What did 140,000 acres even mean? The largest ranch in the U.S., the Waggoner Ranch—the inspiration for the Yellowstone series—was about 520,000 acres. The 6666 Ranch in Texas was roughly 240,000 acres. When they realized Gavin’s land was more than half the size of the legendary 6666, they were stunned.

Seeing their blank expressions, Gavin grinned. "I have a hobby of buying land. Most of my income went into acquiring it. It’s a shame I never imagined an apocalypse, or I would’ve built a fortress or an underground bunker on it."

"But even without those preparations, it’s a perfect place to survive. It has forests, swamps, rivers, reservoirs, farmland, pastures, and two mountain ranges that aren't too steep. But most importantly: it’s vast and sparsely populated."

"Within those 140,000 acres, there are only about three hundred households, and they’re scattered. Aside from seventy or so cowboy families who form a small town of two or three hundred people, everyone else lives far apart, spread across the ranch."

"Well, Eugene? Does that sound like a place worth fighting for?"