“Okay then. I’m gonna check out the coffee shop. Do you want to split up?” she offered. They nodded, Jason and Claudia continuing up the street while Rachael went in the other direction, heading out of the subdivision toward the wall and the outer perimeter of the community.

The first person she ran into was John. Jackpot, she thought. Greeting him with polite—and fake—enthusiasm, Rachael thanked him for bringing her group to Happy Valley.

“I do want to ask though,” she continued, pretending to be much less intelligent than she actually was. “What’s the story with all the workers? I mean, you told us a little bit about how things work around here yesterday, but I’m still not sure I understand.”

“Why, sure thing.” John gave her a broad smile, seemingly forgetting she’d beaten the shit out of him the day before. “Most of the families living here were part of the original homeowners when Happy Valley was first built. The community wasn’t completely full, but a good portion of the homes had residents. When things in the world fell apart, and it was no longer safe outside, it was decided to bring in as many people as we could support. Thing is, even when resources were stretched thin, we didn’t want to turn people away who needed help. So, we offered to let newcomers work for us for an agreed upon period of time, to earn their place here or supplies, if they want to move on. If that’s the case, we help them find a safe place to go.” He smiled knowingly.

“How long do they have to work?” she asked with faux wide-eyed interest, the words “indentured servitude” running through her mind.

“There’s not really a set time,” John replied, “maybe a few weeks or a month or so. It really depends on the type of work, whether they want to go or stay. And if they want to join us permanently, we want to see how much they’re willing to do to prove they’re dedicated to the community. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m meeting my wife for lunch.” He gave her a wink, and she smiled back.

As soon as he turned his back, her smile instantly faded and she slipped back into one of the subdivisions. She wanted to talk to one of the workers and see what they had to say.

It took a little while for her to find some workers who weren’t under the watchful eyes of residents or the occasional security patrol, but she turned up and down a few streets until she found a small group of three men and two women taking a break from painting the exterior of one of the spacious homes.

“Hi there,” said Rachael in friendly tones. All of them startled and jumped to their feet, talking over one another to apologize for taking a break.