The Bucket was a tavern.


    It was actually called the Dry Bucket. I didn’t understand the name, but I decided that I didn’t want to know. It was bad enough that I was in this strange place. I didn’t want to ask the question only to get an answer that wouldn’t make any sense.


    I stood outside the wooden building and tried to ignore the hoots and shouts that were escaping through the slatted door. This did not sound like a place for someone to rest. It sounded like a place to get into a fight.


    “Why are we here?” I had to raise my voice so my companions could hear me, “This doesn’t look like a place to sleep!”


    “The rooms are upstairs,” Val was talking louder too, “Don’t worry, it’ll calm down in a little bit.”


    “Really?” I asked, “Do you live here?”


    “I own it.” She turned and walked inside.


    Her profession began to make more sense. I’d rather fight zombies any day than deal with this degree of noise.


    Max began to follow her inside. I grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. He turned to see what I wanted.


    “What’s going on in there?” I asked.


    “Probably a bunch of drunk people playing a game.” Max shrugged and walked inside.


    I stared at the empty black sky. The noise from inside the tavern did not sound inviting at all, but there weren’t any other options. I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, and then walked through the doors.


    I had been expecting a larger crowd because of the noise. In reality, there were only a dozen people inside and two of them were the ones making most of the noise. They were with the two other men at the central table playing cards. The loud pair were sitting across from each other, each one bobbing and swaying out of rhythm with the other. The pair they were playing against seemed to be winning. At least I assumed that was what the stack of coins in front of them meant. I had never played cards before. Master Bran had called it a waste of time and talent and that energy could be used in much more productive ways. In all of our travels, this was the place that he had avoided the most.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Max was sitting at the bar talking to a woman that looked like a slightly younger but much happier version of Val. Val was sitting next to him, but she was talking to one of the men that had been with her outside. I wondered when he had got here, but it would have been easy for him to get ahead of us. Especially since he had probably taken shortcuts and back alleys that Val hadn’t wanted to navigate us through.


    I walked up to the bar and sat down on the other side of Max. My companion turned to me, his face a big smile and devoid of the exhaustion that he had been suffering from just a few minutes ago.


    “This is Sera,” Max bubbled, “She’s Val’s little sister and she’s the one who runs this place.”


    Sera stuck out her hand. This one was smooth and soft, missing all of the small scars and callouses of her older sister. I began to wonder what had happened that had made these two to be complete opposites.


    “Pleased to meet you!” Sera smiled warmly. There was no hint of false sincerity behind that smile. She was the first person who seemed actually happy to see us.


    “It’s a, ugh,” I tried to remember the proper reply, “nice place you have.”


    “It was our father’s.” Sera took a glass out from under the bar and placed it in front of me, “He built it so that the workers would have a place to unwind after their shifts.” She held up a bottle of clear liquid, “Rum?”


    I held up my hand, “No thanks.” Master Bran had been very firm about his stance on liquor. It dulled the mind and slowed the reflexes. It was something that a Bokor had no business consuming.


    She nodded and filled up Max’s glass. I watched with dismay as he downed the whole glass. It was one more thing I was going to have to work on before we went back to the island.


    “Where is your father?” Max asked, “He sounds like a pretty cool guy.”


    Sadness crossed her face for a moment, but her smile never left, “He died in a zombie attack almost ten years ago.”


    “I’m sorry,” Max said.


    “You should be,” Val turned from her conversation, “It’s the Bokor’s fault that he’s dead.”


    “Val…” Sera shot a stern look at her sister.


    I was trying to figure out what to say when I realized that the bar was quiet. Behind me, I heard the sound of a chair scraping its legs against the floor. It was followed by a drunk voice.


    “Are y’all Bokor?”