...in which a hot stranger rolls into town

So I was out working in the community garden when Liza ran past and yelled to us the big news. By working I mean, I was covered in cow manure and other muck while sporting a nice, new sunburn. Keep that in mind while you are reading the next bit. A new group had approached our compound and was being let in. It had been a year since the last group came through, so this was pretty big news.

"Oh, please let one of them be a nice, eligible bachelor for my dearest friend, Stella!" joked my friend, Marie.

"Shut up," I told her, but appreciated the sentiment. She was constantly worried about my being single, especially since she got married last year. I always had a little hope when a new group came through, but so far, no luck. When the last bunch came, they ended up filling some needs, so they were allowed to stay. It swelled our numbers from 25 to 31, but it was no one that fit the bill in the romance department.

To explain a bit, we were about eight years out of a zombie apocalypse. Yep, you heard right. The one so many b-movies and campy TV shows warned you about. I won't waste time on the details, as you've probably heard something along those lines before, but suffice to say I was now living in a walled compound with armed guards on duty 24/7 to protect us from the living dead. I had been here for about seven years now, and considering the few other options I had under the circumstances, it really wasn't such a bad deal.

"Don't you get excited at all at the potential new faces? If nothing else, maybe somebody will at least be fun! Me, you, Matt and Tom don't make much of a party." She took off her sunglasses for a second, and squinted in the direction where they would be coming from. I think the hardest thing for Marie about the ZA was that it didn't leave behind much of a social scene. In the previous world, she was a party girl, drinking until the bars closed and she came stumbling home with some random guy.

We were roommates all through college, in the middle of a formerly bustling Midwestern city. She was the party girl, I was the homebody, but somehow we ended up as friends. I married my college sweetheart and moved out to an idyllic farm, while she went to the west coast to work for a billion dollar tech startup. When the shit hit the fan, she sought refuge at our place.

"I guess, but it's probably better not to get my hopes up." Not that it meant I didn't. "Seriously, look what happened when Tom's group came in! I wasn't that interested, but since he was within an acceptable age range, I figured it was worth a shot. And now it's so awkward."

"Desperate times…." We heard a commotion, and a pretty beat-up group straggled in. Marie and I both craned to get a better look, restraining ourselves enough to not run up to the road to gape at the newcomers. "Well, there are definitely some guys."

In reality, there were a few men, a few women and a kid, all of them looking like they went through hell to get here. Which, on further thought, was a fairly accurate comparison.

Then Marie let out a low whistle. "Holy shit, get a look at that one."

The one she was talking about was about the most gorgeous thing I'd seen since television went off the air. My jaw dropped. Beat up jeans, ass-kicking boots, sleeveless shirt.

"Holy mother of God, my ovaries just exploded," Marie panted.

I was mesmerized. Tanned, tattooed, and rock solid, like he bench-pressed tree trunks or something. So remember what I said about being covered in shit and sporting a sunburn? Add to that dirty hair in a ponytail, no bra, ratty pair of cutoff finished off with a delightfully sexy pair of mudboots. Aaaand naturally he caught me staring. He gave me a nod and an amused half-smile as he strutted past. My jaw dropped even further, and I just stood there, open-mouthed, and watched him pass.

"Marie, get over here. I think I'm going to pass out."

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Back at my apartment, Marie was getting herself all worked up over nothing. To be clear, "apartment" was probably a bit of an exaggeration. Technically, it was a garage, but it was private so that's all that mattered. Everyone had a garage here, except for the family who had taken the main office. Our home was formerly a self-storage facility where people paid money for other people to store all the shit they were never going to look at again, which also turned out to be a pretty accurate comparison. The upside was that we had a pretty good amount of stuff we could repurpose, but the downside was…well, just imagine living in a self-storage place, and you'll understand.

"Jesus, Stella, he's PERFECT!" she moaned.

"Goddammit, Marie, you are a married woman!" I chastised her.

"Don't I know it." She frowned, but then brightened. "You have got to get on that, or I might be forced to break my vows."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Did you LOOK at the man? Wayyy out of my league!"

"Honey, it's not like this place is crawling with competition! Or other options for you, for that matter. How long has it been since you got laid?" She raised an eyebrow.

I had long ago quit being offended by the things that came out of Marie's mouth. I chose to focus on her question instead. "Ugh, don't remind me." I didn't want to remember either the length of time it had been OR the person It had been with. "Sex with Tom was about the weirdest, most uncomfortable experience ever!"

"Yeah, but what if it had been the best? Wouldn't you want to know?"

She had a point there. It had been nearly a year since I had had the most awkward sex of my life with the guy who was currently my next door neighbor. She was right that I really had to take a chance, but still, I wasn't sure I could form a sentence to even say hi to this new guy, much less see if he wanted to sleep with me. I said this much to Marie. "Plus, any guy that looks that good is guaranteed to be a douche. All swagger and tanned muscles…." I was momentarily distracted at the thought of the swagger and tanned muscles. "Wait, what was I talking about?"

She sighed. "I miss the old days! If a girl wanted some action, she just picked the guy and put it out there. Now it's all screwed up. Look how long it took me and Matt to get together, and this is now that death is all around us. Seems like we should all be jumping in bed together because life is short." Then she laughed. "Oh good God, I just remembered how terrible you are at flirting."

Again, she had another point. I was about as flirtatious as one of the zombies milling about outside the fence. It always seemed so silly and besides, Ty and I were together since we were college freshmen, so I never had to worry too much about it. In fact, when I met him, I decided he seemed like an interesting guy, so I just asked him out right then and there. Patience was not my strong suit, but Ty always said he loved me for it. Or maybe in spite of it.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Not think about it. Let me get cleaned up, and then let's go get a drink."

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One enterprising resident, Barney, had discovered a fully set up still in one of the units and now operated our town's bar. Here in the sticks, EVERY little town at least has a bar. I can't say it was the best tasting liquor I ever had, but it got the job done. Plus, on a beautiful spring night like this one, sitting at one of the picnic tables listening to the people talk, it ALMOST felt like old times. Matt showed up after he got off his shift in the infirmary, and Tom came by when he was done at the guard towers.

Tom was the one with the news. "Well, they're letting them stay. I guess they have enough skills that they'll be useful here."

"Even the old man?" asked Matt, surprised. "He only has one leg, for Chrissake."

"I guess so," Tom said. "He's got some medical training, so I'm sure you'll be meeting him soon."

"How many are there all together?" I asked, trying not to seem too interested.

"Eight. Youngest is about seven or eight, and the oldest is that old guy. Looks like a few around our age, too."

"Oh, that's cool." I played with the ice in my drink.

Marie smiled evilly. "What about James Dean there? The badass who brought the gun show?" She flexed her arms to make sure they got her point.

"Jesus, Marie," Matt huffed, "I'm right here!"

She put her hand on his arm. "Aww, honey, you know I'm just kidding!" He seemed slightly mollified, but not exactly convinced.

"Oh, THAT guy!" Tom rolled his eyes. "ALL the ladies have been asking me about him."

"I think he's PERFECT for Stella!" Marie sang out. My eyes were riveted to the table.

Tom choked on his drink. "Um…sure," he smirked. I glared at him.

"Go home, Marie," I said. "You're drunk."

She ignored that and continued, "All the other people are either married, old, or kids. And you've already slept with the only other eligible bachelor here!"

Now it was Tom's turn to look like he wanted to crawl under the table. I stood up, "Come on," I said to Marie. We walked up to the bar, leaving the guys alone. As I bought Marie another drink, we heard the chugging of a motorcycle, slowly coming down the road. It was him. "Oh, for fuck's sake, are you kidding me?" This guy was unreal. "A motorcycle, too?! He is DEFINITELY a douche. What, does he just ride around, wasting gas on joyrides? Seriously, how self-centered do you have to be to-"

"Shut up, Stella." Marie was swaying just slightly as we watch him park at the unit across the street, and stroll up to the bar. We turned back around and busied ourselves with our drinks, as he came up to the end of the bar. He looked at us. "Do y'all mind if I smoke?"

Marie smiled sweetly at him and shook her head, and then turned to me and hissed, "You are going to talk to him, if I have to force-feed you drinks until you get the balls to do it."

"No fucking way," I hissed back. "Not enough liquor in the world for that."

Marie turned back around to Gun Show. "Since you're new here, let my gorgeous friend here buy you a welcome-to-the-neighborhood drink. Hey Barney," she said, grabbing a token out of my pocket, "this one's one on Stella."

I smiled sheepishly at him, and he raised his drink slightly as a thank you. So I should also probably explain about the token thing. Money was pretty much completely useless anymore. I think at one point in our early days we actually used paper money as kindling for fires. Originally, residents here didn't get any sort of pay. We just worked for room and board and the good of the order. When new materials were gathered, the idea was that they would be distributed evenly among all residents based on what each of us needed. Unfortunately, this plan counted on the fact that people would only take what they needed, but it very quickly became obvious that this wasn't the case for a small part of our population. The solution was to implement a token system.

Every week, we got paid in a pile of old poker chips to use as we saw fit. Each of us got three meals a day from the kitchen, medical care and an allotment of fuel for heat in the winter covered, but we used tokens for pretty much everything else. When a scavenger party came back, you could use your tokens to buy what they had that you needed. As people became more entrepreneurial, the tokens came in really handy. Barney collected the tokens so that he could buy the ingredients he needed to make his liquor from the garden. Liza made lotions and creams and such from ingredients foraged in the woods around our compound. In pre-ZA life, she made a killing selling her "all-natural and artisan" goods to yuppies at farmer's markets.

Anyway, back to Barney's. Marie and I spent the next ten minutes arguing back and forth at a whisper about whether or not I was going to talk to Gun Show. I was insistent that it would happen at a quarter past never, while she was just as insistent that I needed to sack up and do it. Finally, Matt had had enough. He came to the bar to collect Marie to take her home. I gave her a look of complete and utter panic, but Matt said, "Sorry Stella, Marie is cut off." He helped her to her feet and hung on to her waist to keep her upright as they staggered home.

I sat there paralyzed for a few more minutes. I snuck a glance over at Gun Show and realized oh my God, he was looking at me! I attempted a smile. Say something, anything! "So…you come here often?" Oh good lord, did I REALLY just say that?

To my complete amazement, he chuckled, as if he thought I was just making a joke, and hadn't just opened my mouth and had stupid fall out. He went along with it. "Nah, I'm new to these parts. What's your sign?" His gravelly voice was like fingernails on my back.

"Uhh…stop?" Was I actually engaged in witty banter with this guy? Well, maybe witty was too strong of a word for it, but I would take it! I finally looked directly at him, making eye contact. Holy shit, the blue blue bluest eyes. "Haven't I seen you some place before?"

"Yeah, that's why I don't go there anymore." He laughed again. "Your name's Stella, right?"

"Yeah."

"Nice to meet ya. I'm Daryl." He extended his hand, and I as I reached to take it, I managed to catch my toe on the rung of my stool and land in a heap on the floor. I had a split-second to wonder if I could PLEASE just disappear through the floor, but in an instant Daryl was reaching down to help me up, and Tom (he was still here?) had rushed over to make sure I was OK.

I was too mortified to say a word. Tom grabbed my arm, and said, "I think you're cut off, too. I'll take you home." I couldn't bring myself to look at Daryl, but I heard him say as I limped away, "See ya 'round, Funny Girl."