Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Merle and Daryl drag out the maps while the werewolves wander through the house. Carol and Sofia were shy but they warmed to the new people easily enough. They're exhausted and hungry so Carol and one of the guys, a tall lanky man named Bobbie, get to work cooking up a hearty meal. The others alternate between nosing through stuff and snagging bites of food as it's being prepared.
"Got a thought, Hoss," Merle lumbers over to sit on the couch. He holds a map in hand that he spreads out on the coffee table. There are some marks on the map made with yellow and green highlighter in small clusters.
"This here circle is the fence around this house," he taps the smallest yellow circle before tracing a square-ish yellow that encompasses it. "I was thinking, if ya think ya can, we can border up out this far an it'll give us a few houses and a little park."
"That sounds easy enough," I agree quickly.
He nods back, pointing to a larger green somewhat rectangular shape that he identifies, "This here is where them horse folk live."
"Centaurs," I correct.
"Now over here," he points to an area with little tree and tent icons on the map, "is a campground with trails and a lake. It's about the same size as the horse's woods but it could be a good addition."
The campgrounds are outlined with a green line that zigzags to avoid the main highway but it looks doable. He taps another area, "This here is a hardware store. It's a new build with lots of land around it. They was trying to build up the area, the city spreading out an such. We can wall it in and even if we don't use the land, the store there will be plenty worth it."
"Sounds good but I want to prioritize the woods and campgrounds if they're clear so we can protect more animals," I tell him. "In fact, what about farms or zoos or stuff?"
"No way you can cover that much," one of the werewolves scoffs, leaning over the back of the couch to peer at our map.
Another circles around the couch to sit in the chair opposite us. This one, the one with the thick beard more golden ginger than his hair and thick arms exposed as he pushes his long sleeves up to his elbows. "Are you planning to transfigure a fence for all of that?"
Merle clears his throat and I tear my gaze away from the hint of a tattoo trailing along the inside of the guys arm to answer, "Shipping containers. We can shrink and resize them in place."
"How many containers will you need?" He asks, leaning forward to stare at the map. "How long do you think it will take?"
"It's about two miles of road," Merle hums thoughtfully, grabbing a small notepad off of one of the smaller tables and scribbling as he answers. "Twenty and forty foot containers are the most common, mostly twenty. Two miles is 10,560 feet. Divide by twenty foot and you get 528."
He tosses down the pen, settling back with a self-satisfied smirk. "Shouldn't be a problem. Right,Hoss?"
"It was about three hundred for the Centaurs' woods so this being less than double that won't be easy but it's manageable," I agree, smiling at Merle's proud smirk. "Especially now that I will have help."
Said help has gathered near and are exchanging awkward looks again. Seriously, I'm not asking them to transfigure anything. All I'm asking them to do is cast some shrinking spells and later enlarge the containers and levitate them into place. I tell them as much, perhaps a little more scathing than I should but the looks are bothering me.
Merle chokes a laugh, clapping his hands loudly and calling them to eat up quick so we can get going. They exchange looks and whispers, mutters and suspicious looks are darted my way. I ignore it, too used to it from the neighbors in Surry to take any offense even if it is annoying.
An hour later, we are finally setting out. Emma stayed behind, naturally, and her brother stayed with her. She's upset about her Memaw passing which is understandable. I'm not sure how or why the woman turned because she wasn't bitten. Perhaps it spreads differently now or something. With my luck, its in the water or air. We will have to be careful should anyone die but otherwise, I have bigger things to worry about.
The container lot Merle takes us to is a large lot edging the city. There are hundreds, perhaps even over a thousand, containers in stacks of up to five in tight rows. A few dead stumble around, drawn towards us by the low rumble of the engine. Merle and Daryl quickly down them before waving us out of the truck.
I hop down, motioning the others to gather around, "Okay, stay in teams of two. One person casting while the other stands guard. You can switch back and forth if you like. I found it easier to shrink the empty containers so if you dump the contents, be mindful of where and what you are dumping. Don't leave the lot and if you get in trouble, send up sparks. Daryl will stay with the truck and alert us if trouble shows up. Everyone agreed?"
I turn, waving Merle to follow me as Daryl climbs up the truck to stand guard on the roof. The others are slower to move off and they seem to all stick together but so long as they get the work done, I don't care if they need to hold hands. I walk a good few yards away before picking a stack and getting to work. There really isn't room to dump them so I don't bother. It will take more magic but it's manageable, like I told Merle.
The first stack is quickly shrunken down and tucked into my bag. The next stack follows. Five stacks down and I'm getting winded. Three more stacks and I call for a break. We brought a cooler of sandwiches, a bag of apples, and the water jugs that's still with the truck. I lead the way back, relieved when the others are already resting by the truck. At least they haven't worked themselves ill.
Daryl waves lazily, nodding towards the truckbed. I'm not sure what I was expecting. I guess I though they were hoarding items or they had found something interesting but no, that's not what he was wanting me to see. The truck bed has about two dozen shrunken containers but they're the size of large dog crates. Maybe I wasn't specific enough when I explained. I turn to the group who are looking back proudly, enjoying their sandwiches and chatting amicably.
Merle snorts in amusement so I elbow him subtly to keep him from commenting. They're trying, after all, and it's not like they did it wrong on purpose. I'll remind them that the containers should be smaller after they've finished their break. Maybe it's because they haven't been eating well. Once they get their strength up I'm sure they will manage just fine.