Dead End (Book 3): A Very Good Thing

by P. S. Power

  It was the intent.

  They’d decided to make eating people their main plan, going with it no matter what. It was one way, Jake supposed. Something that could even work, for a while.

  It just wasn’t a way he’d allow, if he could stop it.

  “You know,” he said to Heather, trying to be polite and conversational, since they were technically together, and someone had to care for her, regardless, since she couldn’t do it for herself really.

  “I’ve been thinking that they’d just come in the night and we’d have some big, pitched battle on our hands. This is kind of a letdown really. It’s so hard to find quality cannibals anymore. The ones today are just lazy.” It was a misplaced joke, he knew, and a few people glared at him for saying it, but the pregnant girl nodded as if it were a real point.

  “They’re smart. They watched and when you changed the situation, they adapted. They’ll do it again, in the morning, so… it won’t be as easy as it sounds. The hard part is going to be getting everyone to agree not to just follow them outside, one by one.” She shrugged. “When the other side is willing to say or do anything, it’s hard for people to be prepared for it mentally. I wouldn’t be too shocked if we lose a few more before people learn. You might want to start taking your Colleen with you for a while. She get’s taken about half the time if you don’t. She’s too nice for this new world. For now at least.”

  He just sighed and made himself put his hand on her back, getting her to lean into him. She needed a bath, he realized, but didn’t shy away.

  “My Colleen? I didn’t know I had one.”

  “Oh, yes. You always have. She loves you. Didn’t you know that? For years and years. You loved her sister, and she loves you, and no one ever loves me… but that’s alright. Like you said at the party, love isn’t what this is all about anymore. Maybe our children, or theirs, will have that luxury. If we can save enough of the world for them to survive in.” Heather smiled, and looked off into the distance dreamily. If she saw something, she didn’t mention what it was.

  Hopefully something good.

  People were watching, and listening. Including Colleen, who just nodded at him. It was one of those almost subliminal things, a nod so tiny that you didn’t consciously see it, as much as just knew the other person agreed with something. He decided to think about that later, because it was too tied up in how he felt with her sister to be fair at all in the moment. It wouldn’t be fair to her for him to do anything about it right now. Not at all.

  Though the idea amazed him enough that it felt almost like he was in shock.

  Someone in the world loved him? More, she had for a long time? He’d known her, she was always around, but he hadn’t done more than just be polite to her at the time. He hadn’t even noticed really. It was kind of a jerky thing to do, ignore a person like that.

  Oops.

  He’d fix it, if he could, someday. If she wanted it fixed. She might just be past it now, right? He definitely wasn’t the same smiling and fairly happy guy he used to be. He wasn’t Mickey at all anymore. Only Jake remained.

  Except that wasn’t true, was it? That was just a fiction he pretended to in order to get through the day.

  One which wasn’t working too well anymore.

  He stood for a while, not knowing what to do, not having a clue even, what was really needed. Finally everyone else disappeared to their regular spots, leaving Jake almost alone. As much as you could be in the House, which gave him a good ten feet of personal space for a whole minute, until Nate and Burt walked up. They just stood for a while, looking uneasy. Tense. Not angry though, which Jake would have felt, if he were them. After a while, Burt, much older than almost anyone else and one of the few regular humans left, like Jake was, if a genius was going to be called normal now, shook his head.

  “I don’t really know how three people could be missing for days without anyone knowing about it. We need to get something in place to stop that from happening, a buddy system or regular check in. Do you have any ideas?”

  It was nice to be asked, but Jake didn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to him that anyone would go off with someone they didn’t know, much less needed a buddy all the time. It was a good idea, but not enough.

  “We… tomorrow we need to start some classes, get everyone up to speed on safety procedures and have them all involved in coming up with the rules. People will follow them better if they have a hand in making them. Get the Vals to run combat classes for everyone, and make sure everyone has a job they’re expected to be at every day, so someone will miss them if they disappear. We started on that, but I got sidetracked, what with all the attacks and that garbage. I can’t do it all though. Not now. I…” He felt weak, stupid and lazy, but the truth was that the whole thing with Rachel had left him too far gone.

  If he wasn’t as needed as he was, he’d just go home and eat his nine, ending the whole thing. Or better, do it outside, so that someone else could use the place when he was gone. Other people lived there too now and a dead Jake in the kitchen could be off-putting. As it was he couldn’t even mention that. Nate couldn’t either. He thought this to the man, focusing hard. If he got it, it didn’t show, not even a widening of the eyes. It was a real enough point though. People, some of them, the ones that didn’t just hate him, had decided that Jake was special somehow and decided to trust him for some reason. It was a brilliant plan, of course.

  Always trust the half suicidal guy no one else likes, right?

  Regardless, it meant he had to not just opt out and make things easier for himself. It wasn’t fair, having all those peoples hopes dumped on him like that, but someone had to do it, didn’t they?

  For a second he really wondered if the Grand Comtrice, who’d tested him, had just been faking it all? Along with Lamont and the other telepaths? Cisco had bled a lot and her eyes rolled back in her head when she did her thing, but her grandmother had just held his hand and gone still for a while… Sammi probably put them up to it, if that was the case. The idea nearly got him to chuckle. It made so much more sense than anything else he’d heard in a long time. Too late now though. If he wasn’t “The Very Good Man”, if that was just a story told to kids or something, he still had people doing what was needed, even when they wouldn’t listen to anyone else.

  That meant he had to play it all out as best he could. No matter how much he wanted to just chuck it all and leave.

  Their leader just blinked once.

  “We’ll do that. I guess we’ve all been hoping things would get back to normal. That the zombies’ numbers would keep dropping and things would get easier. Less dangerous. It’s kind of easy to forget that the world has other dangers, when a single one that huge is right outside the back door waiting for us. What can we have people do though?”

  That at least, Jake knew. They needed more living space, a lot of it, and a vast greenhouse. That would mean a dedicated team to tend it, because Julio was needed for the crops in the spring too, and couldn’t be expected to do both things all on his own. Plus all the new training and teams of people to travel to other places and do things. Good will ambassadors and whatever other BS they could make up. They should also annex a few of the surrounding farms, if more people were coming in. The extra food they’d gotten helped, but it wasn’t going to be something to keep counting on. Someone had to grow the food, or they’d run out. It was really going to be a lot of work, but they could do it. If they tried.

  Mort came back just about the time Jake was going to go and find Cam anyway, wanting to get away from the House if he could. The place smelled a bit now, sour bodies and stress, even if the floors were spotless all the time. It was just too many people, and he wanted as little to do with them as possible. It wasn’t kind of him, but he really expected most of them to die and didn’t want to know them any better before they did. It was too hard watching people he knew kick off. Better to just stand away and try not to care. He was finally getting a handle on the not caring part even.

&nb
sp; Dressed in the same white outfit as earlier, Morten gave him a small bow, even though as a people the Teleporters didn’t seem to do that with each other, so it was probably some show of respect towards him or something, as if that was needed. A waste of time really. The orange eyes pale man spoke quickly, voice low.

  “Ba-Dehist… The Bawdri Princess has asked for your presence. Princess Alyssian, not Samantha. She still has her thoughts and words… but…” He clearly didn’t feel like explaining, not even to Jake.

  That just couldn’t be a good sign, then, honestly, Jake couldn’t think of anything good that could happen around that situation at all.

  Two minutes later a group stood in front of his own front door, the women that lived there with him now, Nate and Colleen. That last was a bit of a surprise, but apparently Heather really meant that she needed to stay with him, if she was going to survive. Heather had gone and packed a bag for her and handed it off to the short blond girl without asking, telling them all again that Colleen wasn’t supposed to leave his side, except when he went out the next day.

  Well, that and going to the bathroom.

  Thank goodness for that.

  He debated knocking, but figured finally, that it was his place and that meant going right in was fine. Plus Alyssian expected him. The others with him, not so much, but that would have to be alright. They lived there now, except Nate. Jake didn’t want to intrude, it was just that he didn’t want his friends to be pushed out either. His people? That was a more delicate subject, wasn’t it? Well, they lived with him, so it counted as something.

  Didn’t it?

  No one spoke as they went in, which was normal, even with guards out around the place like they were. Dave was inside, as Jake had intended. Of all the people he knew, Dave was the only one that could shoot Alyssian in the head and not lose sleep over it. He might still look like a kid, but inside he was nearly as big of a monster as the zombies. Worse possibly. The undead hungered for flesh. Dave hungered for death. Luckily, he was their monster.

  For now. What would happen as time went on was more of a question.

  The boy looked hard now, taller than when they’d met, nearing five-six or so, creeping up on his own height already. He’d started chubby and well-rounded, but the last months had made that go away, even with the better food. Now he could have passed for a man in the distance. A decently strong one at that. The look he gave Jake was a strange one though, not his normal dead eyed look or smarmy smile.

  “Sammi’s mom… She’s dead, but she’s also talking still. Like normal I mean, not just chanting about brains. She sounds the same as she did the other day. Well, more serious and less air headed, but that part was an act. She couldn’t be that stupid, right? Not and be Sam’s mom. I was going to just come in and shoot her, so her dad or Sam wouldn’t have to do it, but… She’s only partly gone. Well, go see, I think you’ll understand. They’re in the living room.” It was more empathy than Dave had shown towards anyone so far, which was good, but also a bit scary.

  “OK.” Jake wanted to hesitate, maybe just leave, but his feet started moving, betraying him.

  Stupid feet, didn’t they know that out was the other way?

  When he got down the hallway, past the slightly open bathroom door, the whole thing nearly pitch black, he found them all in the dark space of the living room. Or thought he did. The woodstove was cracked open enough for them to all see clearly, no doubt, but Jake might as well been wearing a blindfold.

  “Good. I need to speak to you before I leave, great one.” The voice was smoother now, but still a little raw, as if from crying.

  Only, the dead didn’t cry. Did they?

  The room smelled of smoke and not much else, the Bawdri all had keen noses and fine taste, which translated into being religiously clean. It worked for him. He just waited for the voice in the dark to continue, not knowing what to say at all. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, ask if there was anything he could do for her, but how to phrase it escaped him for a time. So he just stood, staring at where the sound had come from. Waiting. She started to speak, not bothering to say hello or acknowledge that he was there. IN the dark it felt like she spoke directly to him.

  “I was taken, as I strolled along the edge of the Lake, alone. The compound is secure, but someone had gotten in. They wore masks the whole time, black hoods with slits for eyes. The clothing was all black too, but that’s hardly a unique look. At least one of the three that took me was able to teleport.” There was a sound, a sense of movement in the air. A wave of the hand, or one held up, probably.

  “Not Morris’s people, I do not think. The look and feel of the transfer was wrong. Bright and painful, not seamless. I fought, of course, but was over powered and had no time to influence anyone. They were strong too, some of them. More so than a Bawdri or Human. Like the Valkyrie, save they were men, I think. They drugged me, and then…” There was a hiss, an intake of air, rather than an exhalation. It came from the corner, not Alyssian. It was too high to be Sammi, so one of the men.

  Whoever it was didn’t speak though, or make another sound, allowing the story to go on.

  “They… Drained a captured dead man of the black blood within his veins, diluted the substance with something clear, possibly just water, maybe something more, and then injected it into me, over and over again. The idea was to overwhelm my system, my natural ability to fend off infection and corruption. It took most of a day, I think. Then two days ago they set me in the woods, far from here, and pointed in the direction of this place. With a message for you.”

  That was, freaky. A message for him? Why? And really, wouldn’t a letter have been just as good? Why harm this woman? It didn’t make sense, did it?

  “What… did they say?”

  The voice sighed and spoke with deference.

  “Only that I was to tell you this: You can have her back. The girl you love… your parents too. If you stand aside, they can retrieve them all from deaths embrace for you. If you don’t, then it will be war, and they intend to come for you personally great one. That was all I was told to say. They were rather good about not letting things slip in my presence, otherwise.”

  “Oh?” The idea was strange, and didn’t make sense. Rachel and his parents returned? They were long dead. How that would be done he didn’t know. The rest was more clear, carrot giving way to stick, if he didn’t let these beings have their way, they’d kill him.

  Like he feared death? It nearly made him smile, a sense of peace flowing over him. The answer was clear of course, he wouldn’t bring anyone he loved into a world like this one. Even if he did, they wouldn’t survive long, would they? Not if his standing aside meant not fighting whoever did this to Alyssian. They just couldn’t have anything good in mind. Alyssian was his friend’s mother too, which kind of set the course here. Anyone with half a brain should be able to see that.

  So it was about fighting then? He could do that, if he had too.

  “Did they mention how I was supposed to get in touch with them, if I wanted to take them up on the first part?”

  “No. Not at all. Oh.” She made a small noise, the barest hint of pained moan in it. After a few seconds she grunted. It was a bestial sound. The kind of moan the undead used. Nearly.

  “Sorry… but… the transformation, it isn’t stealing my sense of self, but… I want, no it’s more than that, so much more… I need to eat people. I hunger, worse than I’ve ever known, but there is a drive inside too, to consume human flesh. I almost can’t keep myself from it. Even with my own family. I fear what I will do. I must be put to death, before I harm anyone.”

  Her voice was firm, but it seemed there was some argument over the idea. Darian suggested that they might be able to fix it, somehow. Robert simply said that he couldn’t shoot her. The other man, the blond fellow that Jake didn’t know, but who looked to be in his early twenties just stood breathing heavily. It had been him that had hissed earlier. Sammi didn’t speak at first, one way or the other, as t
he case was made. Finally she took a deep breath and cleared her throat, then spoke gently.

  To Jake directly or at least it sounded that way to him.

  “What should we do? This isn’t something anyone has seen before… Anything we do might be the wrong thing.” The girl sounded young. The woman. One much older than he was. It didn’t make sense, but then it did. Her mother was dead, and wanted to die a final time.

  Which was her right. Didn’t they all have that basic freedom? They could all end it, if things got too bad, if the reasons were good enough. If they just couldn’t stand being anymore.

  Except Jake.

  Because that was fair. Sammi had, if his guess was right, trapped him into playing the role of some mythical figure, and everyone else was just going along with it, because the alternative was losing the world. If it wasn’t him, she probably would have picked someone else. Maybe Samuel? The guy was so laid back and gentle he might be able to pull the whole thing off, right? Nate might too, if need be.

  Really, did it even have to be a man? A Very Good Woman might make sense too. That wouldn’t fit the prophesy though, would it? Carl was pretty sweet, so it could have been him, though people might not buy it, being so hugely muscled. Saints were supposed to be a little scrawny, right?

  None of that made a difference now though, he realized, though he’d need to chat with Sammi, sometime soon about it. He was about done with the game. It was time to find someone else to play the part.

  “Um, really…” He spoke to the blackness, the fire popping as he fell silent.

  “I agree with Darian this time. For all we know, Alyssian, you might just shake this on your own in a few days, like a cold.” He smiled. “OK, you don’t get those, but that just kind of proves the point, right? And, I don’t know, maybe blood transfusions from other Bawdri with your blood type might help? You still have your mind, so it’s a little too soon to just give up.” He shrugged, not knowing if anyone was even listening, much less looking at him.