EpilogueFour months later
Jameson was looking out the cabin window at the leaves swirling in the wind. “Will there be a storm?”
Harland sighed. “There’s already a storm. You don’t have to ask.”
“I was gonna carve pumpkins and place them around the house, make it look all spooky, but I can’t in this weather.” Jameson had been amazed by the size of the pumpkins Harland had grown in the garden. Massive. Next year he’d grow pumpkins in all the garden beds, so he could carve hundreds of them and light up the entire place.
He loved that Harland had grown other foods too, so maybe not have pumpkins in all the garden beds. Or he could add more beds.
The cabin had been restored and improved. The windows were now bulletproof, and there were more guns stashed everywhere. He’d moved out of his ap
