Lizzie placed the wooden boxes of berries carefully over one another, holding her breath, trying to make sure they were safe before stepping back.
It was her first batch from her new garden. Uprooting everything from her own home had been hard, but her plants were strong and had resisted.
This was a harbour town. They had fish and, honestly, she really missed eating fish.
Considering she couldn't fish herself, this was the next best option, trading food for food.
She didn't know what to make of this settlement yet. The locals were rude at best and hostile at worst. She should have kept walking, but she couldn't get over her self-righteousness to stay and try to help them out.
Sure, Lizzie was a wanderer, but she didn't avoid people instinctively. Besides, it always paid off to help. They even got her a shack to live in, with only a minor leaky roof and space for her to grow whatever she wanted, as long as she was useful in the community, like everyone else there.
In this place, everyone had a role.
The sound of footsteps coming to her made her stop, though, and Lizzie turned to look at it.
Ah, yes, the Admiral.
They had met once. Well, first she had met his gun, which he had pointed right at her face when she met with him and the other protectors in town, their militia. And then they had a proper meeting.
He was the worst of this little town, trusting no one and hating everyone else, though he was mainly at the front lines in case of any attacks on the people or their supplies, and she respected that. Lizzie had even tried to help him chase off some thieves, but he was never thankful, just considering her another nuisance to drain their resources.
"Captain said I had to come to collect your goods," he stopped in front of her, looking at the shack behind Lizzie and the boxes she had just piled up. "Is that all?"
"Plants take time to grow," she reminded him.
Admiral scoffed.
"Of course they do," he mumbled and raised a sack in his huge hands. "Payment for all your dedication."
She reached to take it from him, but he simply dropped it to her feet.
She glared at him, but he didn't move, watching her with a smirk, and Lizzie begrudgingly bent down, picking the sack.
"Fish and flour," he told her.
She perked up.
"Flour?"
"The mill is finally working again," he answered simply. "Wait here, I'll go get your water."
Admiral walked away, and she watched him, scoffing.
People always complained about plastic, but after the fucking apocalypse, it turned out it was really good to hold water.
She watched as he moved to his horse and came back with the big sealed plastic container, with enough water for her to drink and cook with for a few days.
Lizzie grabbed the handle and offered him a polite smile before leaving.
"Thank you, Admiral," she nodded at him, remaining civil.
That was a fucking heavy box.
Before she could get past her door, though, he called her attention right back to him.
"How long are you planning to stay?" he practically spat.
Lizzie stopped and looked back at him, not impressed. What kind of questions was that?
"Well, I've been debating it. Where else would I find such hospitality?" she teased. "You don't plant a garden if you don't plan to stay for a bit."
He glared at her, looking annoyed, and grabbed her box from her hands before storming inside her house to place it himself.
"Oh, I'm sorry, your majesty," he threw her a look. "Should we have let out the red carpet and kissed your boots when you came waltzing in?"
She raised him a single questioning eyebrow. What was that?
"You are an outsider," he spat, blond hair escaping the tight braids keeping it contained. "That's it. Don't expect to be treated differently than that."
She glared at him, but instead of getting mad, her mind went through another route.
"I think you're starting to like me," she placed the flour sack on her counter, her tone sarcastic, though she was smirking. "Not only that, I think you don't even want me to leave."
When she looked at him, the Admiral looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel, his pale skin was all pink. She had to hold back her laugh as he stormed off of her shack, with heavy steps and an angry face.
Lizzie giggled to herself, and just moved on with her day. The sun was setting and she was just about to lay out dinner when a crack of thunder startled her, and the sound of a horse whining made her go outside.
Well, look who the wing brought back.
"Today really isn't your day, uh, Admiral?" she called for him.
He glared at her, but before he could curse her down, Lizzie just waved him a hand in the right direction.
"Get your horse in my barn," she instructed him, pointing to the small barn beside her greenhouse. "So the rain won't spook her."
The barn was there when she came and was in a way better state than her shack, and the greenhouse was a little bit of a generous term, but he seemed to understand.
She walked inside, leaving the door open, and shed her outer layers, soaked from the rain, staying in her pants and tank top.
Admiral was dripping and cranky when he wanted into her house, but she poured him warm soup.
"Rain isn't good," he spoke, sounding worried. "Means the sea is gonna be rising high soon."
"Shouldn't that be a good thing?" she frowned. "More sea means more fish, no? And more water."
He just scoffed, taking his boots off.
"It means you'll be more of a leech," he grunted. "When the rainy season hits, the roads are too muddy, and the fog makes it impossible to travel."
She shook her head.
"Do you want potatoes?" she asked, stirring the soup a little.
He looked at her, shocked, and Lizzie just rolled her eyes.
"Unlike you, I'm polite enough to be a good host," she remarked. "Do you want them?"
"Sure," he mumbled.
She hummed along, adding a few pieces of potatoes to his soup. He was a big man, he probably ate a lot.
"Are you always like that?" he asked. "Little goody two shoes, always with that face."
Lizzie frowned.
"What is wrong with my face?"
Admiral looked at her from head to toe.
"You smile too much!"
She rolled her eyes.
"People always need a helping hand," she shrugged.
Lizzie took one of her boxes of water and pushed it outside, under the set-up made to collect water, it would be good to have some extras.
She walked back to the table, setting his soup down, and grabbed some of the sour bread she'd managed to get a few days ago, placing it between them as Admiral sat down dramatically. He was so damn big, how did he manage to stay looking like that in such a place like this?
