Generation Z (Book 1): Generation Z

by Peter Meredith

  “We don’t want to sleep too long,” Mike said, as they were led upstairs. “Just a few hours.”

  “Of course,” Neil replied, wearing his warped smile. It was eight hours later, just as the sun was beginning to set, when he came for them.

  Chapter 27

  Stu Currans

  When Stu woke, the first thing he saw was a girl of about seventeen standing over him. She had a heart-shaped face, huge blue eyes and a wild mass of brown hair. In her hand was a straight razor; there was blood on it.

  “Don’t move,” she warned, bringing the knife to his throat. “I don’t want to cut you, but I will if you don’t listen to me.”

  In his groggy state, he had no idea where he was or what was happening. He did know that he was powerless against this girl. There was nothing stopping her from slashing his throat wide open. The razor moved upwards along his throat and as it did, he sucked in his breath.

  “Don’t be such a chicken,” she said, holding up the knife. There was now white foam on the edge.

  “Oh,” he said, realizing that she was shaving him. He sagged in relief. “I thought you were with the Corsairs,” he said in a rasp. The last thing he remembered was Mike yelling something about the Corsairs. But that was when they were on the boat and they were most certainly not on the boat. They were in… “A hospital? I got shot, didn’t I?”

  “You did.”

  He looked down and saw his leg was covered in a hard white bandage. “Wait, that’s a cast. Why do I have a cast?”

  “To keep your leg immobilized. I don’t want to have to open you back up to fix a ruptured artery. Now lie back. I didn’t think you’d want to go to a formal dinner all rough and tumble. A sponge bath and a shave were called for. You’re welcome.”

  A bath? He blinked and looked down at himself once more. He was very much naked. The fog he’d been in cleared in a snap. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be modest? Besides, I’ve seen my share of genitals in my time.” He stared in shock at this admission. “I meant as a doctor, you pervert. It comes with the territory.”

  “I’m sure, but could you…you know, hand me a towel or something?”

  She shrugged and handed him a sheet from a stack. “I have all the pictures I need anyway.” As his eyes widened again, she squealed with laughter. “Your face is priceless! I don’t have a camera, silly. Now that you’re covered let’s do this correctly. I’m Jillybean Martin.” She stuck out a small hand.

  He expected the hand to be soft, but it was rough, her grip was surprisingly strong. “I’m Stuart Currans. Are you the girl doctor people talk about?”

  “Luckily for you, I am.”

  “And did my friends ask you about…”

  She interrupted with a simple, “Yes.” The but that followed was expected. He read it in her eyes. “But there’s a problem. More than one, actually.” She put a hand on his shoulder and left it there. He glanced down at it as she went on. “You’re one of us now. You were bought for a handful of pills.”

  “I’m a slave?”

  She laughed again, high and sweet. Having lived so long in a world throttled by fearful silence, he found himself smiling at her despite his situation, and despite the hand that wouldn’t leave. “No, you’re not a slave. You are a free citizen of Bainbridge Island. You may come and go as you please…”

  “But?”

  “Hold on, I wasn’t going to say ‘but’ I was going to say that there are stipulations, the chief of which is that when you leave you can’t take community property with you. Your friends were honest concerning the circumstances in which you fled San Francisco. Thievery will not be tolerated.”

  Stu glared. “We borrowed the boat, there’s a difference, and we did it to save lives. Besides, if we have the pills, we don’t really need to steal anything else.”

  “Except for me, of course. You came for the ‘girl doctor’ right? Antibiotics alone won’t save your friends. The only chance they have is me. Would you steal me?” The hand on his shoulder squeezed hard, her fingernails sharp against his skin. At the same time, her eyes bored into his with unusual intensity.

  He stared right back. “No. We’re not slavers. I won’t steal you, but I would beg you to come with us.”

  Her hand squeezed hard enough to leave marks and then she released her grip. She took the bowl of water and the razor and walked to a sink. “He’s exactly like we thought he’d be. He’s just like Grey.”

  She seemed to be talking to herself, something that would have been disconcerting, except she then turned on the water faucet. Stu’s body jerked at the sight. Running water? He blinked up at the neon lights, only just realizing they were on and actually working. Next, he looked down at his cast in a growing sense of amazement. It was real. He touched it lightly, running the tips of his fingers over it. It wasn’t just real, it was perfect. When he had been eight, years before the dead had come, he had broken his wrist. The cast he wore for weeks on end was just like the one on his leg.

  “W-where am I, exactly?” He had almost asked When am I?

  “Bainbridge Island, across from Seattle. You were shot by those miserable mutants from Cathlamet. Do you remember that? Do you remember your friends bringing you north?” He remembered the ride; he’d been in endless, miserable pain. “They brought you here and I saved you, but if you’re like Grey, then I saved you for nothing. Are you like him?”

  “I don’t know anyone named Grey,” he answered. She was still holding the razor and for some reason, he felt a note of worry deep inside his chest.

  “It doesn’t matter if you know him or not. You’re still like him.” Something about her had changed. Her voice was now filled with sadness. “That’s what I say. But we can find out easily enough.” She stared hard at him, saying in a monotone, “I’m almost certain that if you leave Bainbridge, you’ll die. You’ll get an infection or your stitches will pop and you’ll bleed to death. What do you say to that?”

  “I would have to take that chance,” he told her. “I would walk back…well, crawl back to my people if I had to.”

  She briefly glanced away. “That’s what we thought. Neil did as well.” When she saw his look, she said, “He’s my father and he knows people. It’s his strong suit you might say. He likes your friends. He thinks they have heart and while they were sleeping, he made arrangements to keep all of you here.”

  “So, I am a prisoner.” Forgetting his leg, Stu tried to get up. She gently pushed him back. He was so weak, he couldn’t resist.

  “He did it for your own good. Bainbridge is practically a paradise and what’s more, the Calypso really did have a number of leaks. Bad ones. It’s one thing to splash around in the Sound, but if you had taken her back on the open ocean she would have sunk. He has her dry-docked. The repairs could take up to a week.”

  They didn’t have a week. She seemed to read this on his face. “Yes, if you wait a week, your friends will die. I won’t be able to save them.”

  Stu shook his head in confusion. “Wait, I don’t understand. Are you saying you’re coming with us? Do you have a boat?”

  The hand on his bare shoulder squeezed him again before she turned away. She went to the sink and touched the straight razor. It was a gentle touch, like she was stroking a baby’s cheek. “I can get a boat, but I don’t know if I should let you have it or if I should go with you at all. If we’re around each other too much, I’m afraid you’ll start looking at me like everyone else does.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry, I must have missed something. How do people look at you?”

  “They look at me like I’m crazy. They look at me like that because I am crazy.” With an angry flick, she threw the razor into the sink. “When you were first brought in, I didn’t know if I would like you. Normally, I like new people right away. I like them until they become like the rest. I like them until they start looking at me out of the corners of their eyes, but you didn’
t do that. You just lay there, sleeping and I liked that. I liked it a lot, but I also worried that it would change when you woke up.”

  She turned back suddenly, as if she wanted to catch him looking at her funny. He shrugged. “A lot of people are crazy, if you ask me. Some are bad and some are good. Which are you?”

  “Both, I think, but I haven’t been really bad in years…well, I guess Eve’s been bad a few times and I did tell a small lie to your friends earlier. I think Jenn and I could be good friends and I was hoping to get her to stay, so I told them that your friends back home were going to die no matter what. The truth is that they’ll only probably die no matter what.”

  “And you can help them?”

  “Maybe, if we get there quickly. But, but if I go, you have to promise that you won’t look at me funny. Not ever.”

  He grinned. “You saved my life. This is the least I can do.” He held up his hand, palm facing her. “I promise not to look at you funny. Now where’s that boat?”

  “It’s close by in a secret place. You also have to promise not to tell Neil. There’s no way he would ever let me go with you.” Stu nodded in agreement, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She picked up his hand and lifted it, palm out.

  “Okay, I promise not to tell anyone.”

  He was about to drop his hand, but she hooked his pinky with hers. “Now pinky swear.”

  “I pinky-swear not to tell anyone.”

  This came out sounding like a question, but it was good enough for her. “Good, let’s get you dressed.” To his shock and embarrassment, she ripped the sheet off him. For some reason, she seemed just as shocked at what she had done. “Sorry, that was Eve. She thinks you’re cute.”

  Stu covered himself with his hands. “That was who?” He could feel his face beginning to slip into what could easily be described as a “funny” look. He forced himself to adopt a bland expression.

  “N-no one,” she stuttered, her pale cheeks going red. “It was a joke. Sorry. But, but you’re going to need my help anyway.” She withheld the sheet and picked up a pair of pants. When she straightened, her eyes seemed to be drawn right to his crotch. With a deep breath, she swallowed her embarrassment and went to work. He quickly discovered he was weaker than he thought; there was no way he could’ve gotten dressed without her. Once he had on a pair of jeans that had the right leg cut up the seam and a long-sleeved shirt, she maneuvered him into a wheelchair.

  “Ricardo?” she called. An older man with little glints of silver in his dark hair, hurried through the door and looked at her expectantly. “Can you take him up to the governor’s house?”

  As Ricardo came around the wheelchair, Stu asked, “Couldn’t he have helped me get dressed?”

  The red color came back into her cheeks as she remarked, “Eve isn’t the only one who thinks you’re cute.” As he sat there, dumbfounded, she gave him a wave and walked out.

  “She thinks you’re cute?” Ricardo asked, his one eyebrow pipped upwards. “Good luck with that.” Stu’s first reaction was to demand to know what he meant. It was pretty obvious, however and he didn’t ask.

  Ricardo was quiet as he huffed and puffed Stu across the island. Stu wasn’t in the mood for conversation. He was too much in awe of all the lights and all the people casually strolling around. Once again, he had that strange sensation of having slipped backwards in time. This was how things were when he’d been a kid. It was how things were supposed to be.

  When they drew near a stately home that appeared to have every light in it burning away, Ricardo broke in on his thoughts. “This is it. Hey, a little advice: be careful with Jillybean. She’s killed at least two of her patients and when I say killed, I mean…” He drew his thumb across his throat.

  Stu leaned back in his chair, not quite believing the man. “Then how come she’s not in jail or banished?”

  Ricardo leaned in closer. “Her dad’s Neil Martin. The dude may be little but he’s scary. Some of the things I heard he done? Messed up is what it is. And wait till you see his face.” Ricardo let out a little whistle. “That’s messed up, too.”

  “You make it sound like he’s famous or something.”

  “You’ve never heard of Neil Martin? What about the Azael? He’s the guy who took them down. And it was Jillybean who blew up the River King’s bridge. She killed like five hundred people and she did that when she was just six years old. Everyone knows she’s got a thing for fire. They say she’s got all sorts of bombs in that school of hers.”

  Stu had heard of the Azael. They had been slavers who had somehow been able to control the dead. Supposedly they had an entire army of them and had used them to create a kingdom, but that had been years and years before.

  “Wasn’t that out east?”

  Ricardo grunted, “Yup. In Colorado, the same place where like half the people were gassed to death. They say it wasn’t Jillybean, but it’s not just bombs she plays with, it’s germs too. All I’m saying is be careful around her and whatever you do, don’t get her mad.”

  Jillybean was certainly strange, but she was also kind, kind enough to have saved Stu’s life. That wasn’t something he took lightly, and he felt the immediate desire to defend her. “You make her sound like some sort of monster, and yet you work with her? She couldn’t be that bad.”

  They were on the driveway now and Ricardo had to strain to get him up the hill. “It beats farming any day. ‘Sides, she thinks I’m dumb. She kinda has a soft spot for stupid people. She feels sorry for them. It’s like she thinks that anyone without a college degree is a retard or something.”

  She certainly isn’t going to be impressed with my sixth-grade diploma, Stu thought to himself.

  Ricardo wheeled him to the door, but before he could ring the doorbell, a sound Stu secretly wanted to hear, the door opened revealing a tall blonde woman in a deeply blue knee-length dress. She was in that thirty-something range that was hard to pin down. “I’ll take him from here, Ricardo,” she said. “If you’ll be back at eight for him I would appreciate it.”

  “Of course, Governor,” Ricardo answered, bowing at the waist before leaving.

  Governor? Stu took a closer look at the woman, seeing the wrinkles around her eyes and the worry lines across her forehead. Leadership was taking its toll. Feeling young and awkward in her presence, he put out a hand. “Stuart Currans. Thanks for the hospitality, and thanks for, I guess you can call it an invitation to join your group.”

  They shook, and her hand, like Jillybean’s, was stronger than it appeared. “You’ve heard? I take it you’ve also heard about the damage to the Calypso?” He nodded, then shifted his eyes away. Talking about boats was the last thing he wanted. Keeping secrets felt a lot like lying and he was a poor liar at best.

  Deanna let out a sigh. “The boat just wasn’t seaworthy. Hopefully you understand that what Neil did was in your friends’ best interests.”

  “He didn’t have the right to touch our boat,” Stu answered. “It’s really as simple as that.”

  “Seeing as you stole the boat in the first place that’s a debatable point, but it’s not a debate I want to have, especially when your friends need your help. Mike and Jenn are threatening to walk back to San Francisco. We can’t stop them of course, but we’re hoping you might be able talk some sense into them. You do realize they’ll never make it, right?”

  Mike and Jenn had proven to be made of sterner stuff than even Stu had guessed. Still, their chance of making it on foot were terrible. Thank goodness we have a boat, he thought. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “They’re out back about to eat dinner. They refused to come in, but no one can refuse my cooking. I’ll have a plate brought out for you.” She pushed him through the house to a set of glass doors that led to a deck. Standing just beside it was a small man in brown corduroy pants and a checkered sweater vest. His face was an ugly mass of scars.

  “You must be Neil Martin,” Stu said, trying to look past his mutilated face and into the man’s eyes as h
e stuck out a hand.

  Unlike Jillybean’s and Deanna’s grips, Neil’s was rather soft. “I am. I see Jillybean did a hell of a job on you. You were practically dead not so long ago. It’s a good thing she saved you, because now you have a chance to save your friends. You can ask anyone on the island and they’ll all tell you the same thing. Trying to make it to San Francisco on foot is suicide. Even the traders don’t try to make it through anymore.”

  “I’ll talk to them, I promise.” Neil came around behind his chair, but Stu waved him off. “I better go out alone. I’m sure you understand.” He wheeled himself out onto the deck where a table was set, a single candle flickering between Mike and Jenn.

  Mike jumped up quickly to help him. “Stu! My goodness, you look good. I didn’t think I’d see you up and about.” He then lowered his voice to a growl, “Did you hear what that weasel did?”

  Stu nodded. “He took our boat, but I have a replacement. The girl doctor has one and what’s more, she’s coming with us.”

  Neither Mike nor Jenn looked excited at the prospect. “You know she’s insane, right?” Jenn asked. “Everyone, including her father, thinks she’s dangerous. I don’t know if she should come.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice.” All three jumped as Jillybean emerged from the darkness next to the deck. “We want to leave and you’re going to take us whether you want to or not.” In her hand was a pistol. She brought it to her nose and sniffed at the barrel, a queer smile playing on her face.

  Chapter 28

  Jenn Lockhart

  Neither the gun nor the girl scared Mike. “We’re not going anywhere with you if you threaten us. Put the gun away and we’ll talk.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to talk,” she shot back in a hissing whisper, “and maybe I don’t want you to come with me. I’m the one with the boat, remember? Do you think I need your help to find my way to San Francisco? Not hardly. The way I see it, you guys are along for the ride.”