by Tyler Lahey
“You might try not getting hammered every night,” Jaxton growled as a bottle exploded somewhere behind him, broken glass flying.
Elvis face tensed into a mask of mottled emotion, half clenched, half bemused. “Why not?”
“Because we have work to do. Things you could help with, every day. Stop hanging around Terrence.”
“Why?”
Jaxton frowned uneasily, “because he takes whatever he wants. He doesn’t hunt or clear the valley like the rest of us. He’s lazy, and he’s dangerous. We need to build a society.”
“What’s the fucking point?” Elvis leered.
“What’s the fucking point?” Jaxton snatched him by the collar.
Adira calmed Jaxton, and grabbed Elvis by the hand. “Elvis, you need to quit feeling sorry for yourself. You left us in D.C. You told us your car was full of luggage, and we had to make the entire trek on foot. You let Liam and Harley spend a week alone in the wilderness. I was there. I saw it happen. Liam and Harley have had each other’s backs the whole way. You’re out of the picture.” Elvis just stared, blankly. Adira’s own face warmed. She did feel sorry for him. “Not everyone drinks all day. Tessa and I have been building a dam down past the field house. Liam and Harley are inventorying all that stuff and seeing what we need. It’s going to be cold soon. Really cold. We need to work together if we’re going to make it through.”
Elvis recoiled. “We can’t just sit here. We need to go where the infected haven’t reached! Are you content to just die here?!”
Jaxton pushed him out into the hallway. “We’re not going west. This is all that’s left. Let me talk to some of the others, see who needs help.”
“Whatever, man. Do what you want.” Elvis stumbled away.
Jaxton exhaled, and looked to Adira. She drew closer to him, “I heard he let someone die today, on the Western bridge.”
Jaxton exhaled, “I know. We need to get his mind off it. I’m going to make him join one of the project teams.” He fingered the pistol strapped to his outer thigh, over dark, muddy jeans. “Anything is better than seeing him mope around all day, dodging Harley like a creep.”
Another shot rang out in the cafeteria, to drunken cheers. Adira drew closer still to her lover. “Are you going to let them do this every night? Every day?”
“What the hell do you want me to do?”
“To put a stop to it. Or at least back me up.” Adira glared angrily. The work she did every day to make sure everyone had clean food and water, not to mention clothing and arms, was never matched by the newcomers.
Jaxton’s brow furrowed. “I need them,” he said, his voice rattling hoarsely.
“Need them? You certainly don’t control them. Who really would have your back when it came down to it? Me, because I love you. Liam and Harley, Tessa, those two 18-year olds you have patrolling the roof right now who call themselves Wilder and Duke…I don’t think anyone knows their real names, and a handful of the others.” She fumed privately, but she couldn’t truly be aggravated with Jaxton for long. He knew it.
“What was that?”
“I know why you think you need them. Because you’re a man, and men mark their territory. This isn’t about anything else besides you, and Bennett. You’re trying to get as many people on your side as possible. You take every opportunity to make him feel unwelcome.”
Jaxton looked bemused, which annoyed her even more. She blew a tendril of black hair out of her face. “What?”
“So… wait, why did you say you would have my back again?”
Adira paused, suddenly unsure. She hadn’t even realized what she had said. “Because you’re my hero,” she crooned sarcastically, and fell into his chest pursing her lips dramatically.
He embraced her. “That’s not what you said.”
“Don’t push it.” She took his hand, and dragged him out of the haze, and into a long since abandoned classroom, its dusty windows blockaded and boarded up with scraps of building material. They shut the door, and soon, they were breathless.
Chapter Three
Bennett tugged his jacket closer around him, feeling the wind working a chill into his bones. He could see the outlines of the high school, nestled down in the valley below him, surrounded by silent, ominous buildings. As far as the eye could see from the ridge, there was darkness. The electrical grids had failed them in late June, almost a month after arriving. A million pixels of light burned overheard, far more than he had ever seen in his life. It took his breath away, and for a moment he was content to take it in, feeling his own soul teetering on the precipice between awe and horror; there was no more light at night, save by fire.
Bennett hefted a powerful hunting rifle, and trudged back to the old fire-watch tower that loomed ahead in the darkness. His comrades were keeping the torches above burning brightly, he noted with approval. They would be seen for miles, which is why they trekked up here multiple times a week, with the hope other survivors would see it. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Was something close by? He quickened his pace and raced up the steel ladder, ascending sixty feet into the sky.
“I don’t understand why you don’t just piss off the side.” Leeroy grunted. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, and adjusted the massive assault rifle that lay across its lap. The weapon had a large scope with an electronic sight and zoom, and a bipod tucked aft. The flames of a nearby torch lit the tiny man’s pasty face. Bennett was pretty sure his own distaste was visible; Leeroy still creeped him out.
“I like it down there,” Bennett said, taking a seat himself.
“He likes it because it’s like being on a knife’s edge. I know the feeling, and I hate it. The infected could be anywhere,” Joseph said without looking up. His small, callused hands tinkered with a large battery-operated transmitter radio.
A faint smile curled Leeroy’s thin lips. “We could just fire our guns, and kill them as they swarmed us.”
“Or we could die,” Bennett said curtly. He knew he needed all the help he could get. It pained him to be civil with such strange men. But Leeroy had been willing to make the trek multiple nights a week, and was an excellent shot with his rifle.
Bennett looked to Joseph, pleased the smaller man with the practiced hands had not been sucked in by Jaxton’s speeches.
“You know, they’re building a dam now. And turning the baseball fields into land for crops,” Joseph continued to speak without looking up. Bennett suspected he was a very intelligent man, emotionally and practically. He was glad to have him on his side.
“I don’t plan on being here long enough to make use of those.” Bennett growled, looking back down into the forested valley, all shadows in the night. Jaxton was down there, with a few of the younger men following eagerly at his heel, ready to follow his commands. And so was Adira. He got a sudden series of images of them down there, together and panting, and he shook his head angrily.
“I just don’t want to believe it’s all over. There has to be someone left out there, somewhere. But we’re lucky Jaxton’s boys are willing to forage for us. We almost never contribute, after all,” Joseph mused, shrugging.
Leeroy shifted the military grade vest that he had strapped over his chest. Bennett counted five extra magazines for the AR-15 rifle.
Joseph stopped tinkering. “There,” he smiled broadly, pleased with himself. “It’s working.”
Bennett beckoned for the radio; pleased he had taken the time to commit the engineer to his project. If it had just been him and Leeroy atop the rusted steel tower, he might have leapt off.
He twisted the knob expectantly, to a hiss of static. Pushing down the transmit button and adjusting the metal antenna, he spoke clearly. “I am a survivor living in Cold Spring, Pennsylvania. If anyone can hear me, please respond. There are about forty of us, hiding out in the old high school. We are survivors. If anyone can hear me, please respond.” There was nothing.
Joseph indicated the device keenly. “There’s only a few of those batteries left. We should limi
t its use each night.”
Bennett imagined his good friend Jaxton touching the girl he thought had been his, far in the valley below. Grinding his teeth, he attempted to transmit again.
Chapter Four
The room was silent. The crowd Bennett now scanned his eyes over was ragged, dirty, and tired. Everyone had gathered save three guards, who patrolled the rooftop armed with ancient sniper rifles.
Bennett made sure to fasten his gaze on a number of them, and deliberately avoided Adira’s dark eyes in the front row. His palms slipped over each other as he spoke. “We’ve made contact with a group of other survivors. A big group.” He began. His voice wasn’t carrying very far, he noticed in frustration. “They’re migrating west, and I informed them of our location and present situation.”
“Are they bringing more women? Supply’s running dry here.” Terrence cackled, to the delight of his cronies around him.
“You can ask them yourself. They’ll be here in three days, if they make good time.”
Spirited conversation broke out among the forty survivors. Bennett wasn’t sure how to proceed. He accidently caught Adira’s gaze, which was level and unbroken.
“Our good man Terrence has a point. Who are these people?” Jaxton rose from the front bleacher and strode forward with easy confidence.
Bennett bristled; annoyed his friend could move and speak so effortlessly. “They are led by a group of…former police officers it sounds like.”
Jaxton grimaced, and turned to stand just next to Bennett, facing the crowd. With his next words, he addressed them directly. “What have we always said? Since the beginning? Never trust anyone but our own.”
“These are men of the law. They-“ Bennett tried to inject, but he was swiftly cut off.
“They will attempt to seize control of what we have built here. I don’t like the sound of this, brothers and sisters,” Jaxton yelled emphatically.
A chorus of affirmation rolled across the glossy wooden floor, stunning Bennett. “The infected are pressing into the valley, more every day. Are they not?! These men are bringing society with them. Order. Security. We need all the help we can get.” He countered. This had been anticipated, but the crowd’s reaction had not. They were fickle, Bennett suspected.
“We are on equal footings, us and them. If these newcomers think they can sweep in and reap the benefits of what we have sown with our own sweat, they are sorely mistaken,” Jaxton said, his fist pressed to his breast.
Terrence and the other new arrivals roared. About a dozen were silent, Bennett noted with satisfaction. Taking a deep breath, he launched into a pre-planned argument.
“Jaxton refuses the guidance of real authority, because he is loath to give up his own authority.” Leeroy and Joseph slammed the wooden benches in front of them in strong agreement. “Once this infection is over, civilization will be restored. There will be a reckoning. By my own eyes, I have seen the infected pressing deeper and deeper every day. Three weeks ago we had secured the entire valley. Now, the western ridge is listed as possibly secure, and the ravines to the south are all red zones. We need them.”
Jaxton laughed lightly. “We will bring the infected to heel, as we always have. Something else. I alone have taken the time to hear the accounts of our newcomers. I have heard how the army has abandoned civilians en masse, leaving thousands to die. Wilder. Duke. Do I not speak the truth? Have they not abandoned us?”
The pair rose as if the sun was shining on their faces and a stiff breeze was at their backs. They nodded fiercely, affirming what Jaxton had charged.
A large, bulky frame rose in the crowd. There was a tomahawk at his hip. His lips were wet, and his eyes, always greedy. “Where was the government when New York burned? Where were they when the Delaware was overrun? When Boston was firebombed? When we lost contact with the West? I won’t take a single order from any of them.”
Bennett frowned, noting the anxiety that coursed through his veins in that instant. Terrence was so much bigger. “So tell me. You’d rather throw in with his lot,” Bennett thrust a trembling hand towards the modern day bandit. “A man who burns through our supplies and makes damn sure him and his lot don’t do any of the fighting around here?”
Terrence lumbered down the bleachers and made to cross the space between the two men. Jaxton stepped in his path, his hand dropping closer to his holstered pistol.
“Check your fucking tone. You want to do this? Right here in front of everyone? Fine by me,” Terrence’s meaty finger stabbed the air over Jaxton’s shoulder, his eyes still fixed on Bennett’s wiry frame.
Bennett grinned sheepishly despite his nervousness. “You’ve chosen a good man to follow,” he spat sarcastically, turning back to the crowd, which sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation. “Terrence can barely hold his tongue, let alone his liquor.”
The beast roared and shoved Jaxton aside violently. Within two steps Terrence had drawn within striking distance of Bennett and cocked back a burly arm. In another instant Bennett’s face absorbed a lunging strike that sent him straight to the wooden floor. The crowd was on its feet. Terrence stepped even closer, panting with excitement. A single shot rang out, and a cloud of dust floated from a smoking hole in the ceiling far above.
Leeroy stepped slowly down the bleachers, his pudgy hands clasping the most elaborate of rifles. From behind his glasses he aimed straight at the bulky frame standing over Bennett. “Step back,” he ordered, coming closer. “Step back,” he repeated, oddly quiet.
Terrence snarled, and stormed off.
“That fucking idiot,” Jaxton muttered as he helped his friend up. Joseph and Leeroy stood nearby, their weapons drawn and held.
Bennett massaged his face, trying to downplay the immense pain he felt coursing through him. He knew everyone was watching for his reaction.
“And he’s with you?” Joseph asked.
Jaxton grimaced in embarrassment. “I wish not.” He leaned closer, and dropped his voice till it was a hoarse mutter. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We need to stop working against one another.”
“Fine,” Bennett said. “Work with me. Let’s prepare to welcome this new band of survivors, and let them help us.”
Jaxton frowned, his grey eyes bloodshot. “We’re not just going to hand over control of our fate, and our town, to outsiders, to a government that failed us time and again. This is about her, isn’t it?”
Bennett felt Adira’s eyes on him. Puffing up his chest, he said, “I certainly trust them more than I trust you.”
…
“Where did they go?”
Liam stared at Harley with accusing eyes, though she knew he wouldn’t blame her. “They were all there yesterday. What’s gone?”
Liam fumbled through the cabinets in the nurse’s room. “I’m not seeing half the painkillers, a bunch of the antibiotics, the creams, the bandages.”
Harley rose, sweat building at her brow. “It was all there. You don’t think he took it do you?”
Liam rose to his full height, and stretched back his shoulders like an alpha male predator preparing to fight for his turf. “It was him. He almost killed Bennett yesterday. And how many times has he grabbed you? And now this. I walked away the first time, at your request. Not this time.”
Harley rose, her heart pounding with excitement. She could not deny it; she wanted Liam to fight for her. “Follow me.”
They found Terrence on the roof, with five of his dirty cronies, all drinking in the dusky October sun. He grinned appreciatively when he saw Harley’s tight hugging sweater and jeans, and licked his lips. “Have a drink,” he oozed.
“Where is the medicine?”
The smile dropped from his flushed, grizzled face. His eyes became stony, and hostile. “What of it?”
Harley felt Liam’s hulking form ease to her side and put a slender arm out to stop him.
“So, you did take it.”
Terrence flashed a toothy smile. “Of course I did. Why would I trust you with
something so valuable? I don’t know you, either of you.”
“You can’t just take whatever you like,” Harley snapped as she took a step closer, her blood warming. She could see his eyes crawling all over her, and she remembered the night his rough hands groped her against the cold lockers.
The cronies seated at the flanks jostled humorously in their rugged outerwear.
Terrence rose. “When’s the last time you made a food run? All I ever see you doing is watching over your prize there to make sure no one else gets a piece?” He spat, eyes alight.
Before anyone could stop him Liam had broken free of his lover’s light touch and lowered a shoulder into the bulky fiend.
…
Terrence was stronger. Or maybe just more savage. Liam felt the shame burning through him. This was his thing, damnit! And this jackass was taking it to him! As he felt his neck compress into a headlock, he strained to see Harley at the edge of the little crowd, fighting to get closer. Liam strove with all his might, seeking to break the iron grip which now locked him in the bully’s embrace. Nothing. He heard the men laughing as the sweat made their limbs slippery. Terrence bellowed and flipped him over, so that Liam’s face was pressing against the rough roof. Through the tears in his eyes he saw all his friends emerging from the ladder exit. There was Jaxton, Bennett, and Elvis. Others followed. He imagined how he looked now, completely at the mercy of this stupid fucking brute. He felt the shame, unimaginable in power, coursing through him. In a vicious frenzy one of his flailing hands caught Terrence by the collar and dragged him down, freeing him. Liam snapped his elbow back and caught his foe in the lip, hammering his head back. He broke free, and rolled to his feet, panting with triumph. Terrence staggered to his feet, his usual swagger replaced by something purely sinister. In that moment, Liam was totally afraid.
“ENOUGH!” Heavy boots thudded. Jaxton approached, his oily brown hair hanging in front of his eyes. His garb was ragged and rugged, a motley collection of hiking gear mixed with some camouflage. His pistol was jet black. Terrence’s men moved back slightly at his approach.