Chapter 6: Starvation and Reed Salt

No work, no money—the family was almost out of food.

The fridge was down to a bottle of ketchup, some questionable eggs, and a single slice of bologna curling at the edges. Even the stray cats wouldn’t bother checking our garbage cans anymore.

I glanced at the plastic bin in the corner. After this meal, there’d be nothing left.

All we had was a cracked Rubbermaid full of old oats and a couple of sprouting potatoes. I wondered how long we could stretch them.

Might as well starve together.

I sat on the back steps, head in my hands, trying to ignore the hollow ache in my stomach.

That day, I was in the kitchen stoking the stove when Zombie Dad came back from who-knows-where.

He burst through the back door, hair wild, smelling of river water and excitement.

"Reeds… got it!"

His shouting made my head throb, so I quickly kept a good ten feet away from him.

I ducked behind the kitchen island, just in case he decided to start another experiment.

After calming down, I saw him burning all the dry reeds we used for kindling by the stove.

The smoke set off the fire alarm, shrieking until I grabbed a chair and yanked the batteries out. He just kept working, oblivious to the chaos.

I opened my mouth, but in the end didn’t dare stop him.

It wasn’t worth arguing—he was on a mission, and there was no stopping him when he got that wild look in his eyes.

After burning the reeds to ash, Zombie Dad added water to the bowl of ash.

Was he playing house like the neighborhood kids?

He squatted on the linoleum, mixing the goop with a bent spoon. It looked like something out of a science fair gone wrong.

After a while, he tore up his own shirt—just to filter the water from the bowl…

I winced at the sound of fabric ripping. That shirt had been his favorite, too. The makeshift filter dripped cloudy water into an old Mason jar.

After he finished, he ran over to me with the bowl, overjoyed.

"My good kid, watch me turn this into treasure for you!"

I was so freaked out I ran out the door and stayed far away from him.

I grabbed my coat and sprinted out to the backyard, heart hammering. Through the window, I watched the kitchen fill with gray smoke.

Soon, thick smoke billowed from the kitchen, almost covering the whole little house.

Neighbors probably thought we’d set the place on fire. I heard sirens in the distance and prayed they weren’t coming for us.

I knew something was wrong and ran back to put out the fire.

I grabbed the fire extinguisher from under the sink and doused the flames, coughing on the smoke.

After the flames were out, the water in the pot was scorched dry.

The pot’s bottom was black, and the air stank of burned reeds and old oil. I waved a towel, trying to clear the smoke before it set off the alarms again.

I frowned, ready to add a ladle of water, but Zombie Dad grabbed my hand.

"Don’t move!"

He looked wild-eyed, like a scientist on the verge of a breakthrough.

"This is reed salt—I made it!"

Looking at my arm gripped in his hand, I shivered all over.

His touch was ice cold, sending a jolt through me. For a moment, I wondered if ghosts really could pass on a chill.