by P. S. Power
They chatted for a bit, Justine standing behind him waiting, holding her shotgun, the muzzle held well away from anyone else, up at the sky. Yvonne looked over wide eyed and as she traded off with a man from the house that Jake only knew vaguely, one of the homebodies, she walked over to them, a bit shy suddenly.
“Why do you have a rifle Justine?” She said as if asking why the crazy girl was going to eat the chicken's head or something.
The girl smiled and shook her head, “It's a shotgun Yvonne. I, killed a zombie, well, shot it, they're already dead, but you know what I mean. Jake made me do it. I... They're not as scary now I don't think. It wasn't a very good zombie, it just kind of crawled, but, yeah, I'm not as afraid of them. I can protect myself. A little at least. As long as they don't run at me too fast.”
Jake looked over at them, away from his conversation with the two older men for a moment.
“You can handle that too. Just remember to aim and squeeze the trigger, keep your eyes open, go for the head and not to talk or scream. Fast cuts down the amount of time to aim, but it's the same thing really. You did really well earlier.”
From inside the pit Marty spoke, he sounded meek, a little man, even if he was physically larger than Jake, he'd been just a bit heavy and weak Back Before and now was thinner but still soft. He sounded sincere at least.
“Maybe... I should try that? I'm sick to death of being stuck here all the time.” He didn't look up and grunted just a little as he pulled up a heavy looking half shovelful of dirt.
“Well,” Nate said, trying not to seem excited or anything. “We do have a zombie that needs to be buried. Beheaded and then put in the ground. If you do that, I bet you won't find them nearly as frightening.”
The man took a deep breath and nodded, “Alright, I'll do it.”
“Get with Molly. She knows what to do. She's in charge of that.” Jake said this firmly enough that everyone just accepted the idea that Suicide Molly would get things done instead of flaking out. Even Molly smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, don't worry Marty, I've done this before.”
True. Dozens of times even, normally with Tipper standing over her tapping her foot and wondering if it would be easier just to shoot the girl in the head and get it over with. The other woman was busy helping get wood taken care of, so couldn't snicker at her now. That meant Molly just got to seem in charge without any mocking at all. Maybe it would be good for her. Well as long as she didn't get Marty killed, it would be alright. Not that Jake cared about the guy, but if he could manage to pull out of being mostly a burden, they might be friends someday.
The zombie burial was...
Hilarious.
Jake had to fight not to laugh out loud and cried, real tears rolling down his face by the end. Marty tried really hard, and the beheading went well. It took a long time to happen and the man dressed up like a mummy with safety goggles, but it was his first, so that could be forgiven. Better too careful than coming back and trying to eat the rest of them. Since that was what had happened to a lot of people in the beginning, breathing in blood and turning within the next day or two, Jake could see the value. He wore a face mask too. Justine did as well.
The funny bit came after that, when Molly and Marty both fell into the shallow grave on top of the still grasping zombie, trying to fight its hands clear, so they didn't get scratched. The head got buried a few feet further down in the ground, so it couldn't bite anyone before it decayed. No one really knew if that would work or not, but it was a thing to do and made sense even if it was really based on guess work. He didn't want to be planting a garden in ten years and end up being bitten due to laziness. The effect was just so funny though, they panicked and wrestled desperately, until he managed to step on the arm Molly had and get her free, then did the same for Marty.
Laughing inside or not, as he wiped his tears he smiled and tried to look proud.
“You didn't yell. I think that's a good sign. Very much so. For both of you. Gold stars all around so far today. Ah, Justine, they have this now, let's do a patrol and make sure there's nothing else out here.”
The girl looked... well, ready for combat would be a bit much to ask, but she moved with him, slowly and in pain, and didn't complain about it. Maybe he could count it as two gold stars for her. Now all she needed was about a hundred more and she'd be back to where she was the day before.
There wasn't anything near them in the woods, though they walked a spiral every wood load trip after that, in opposite directions, marking dead fall when they found it. They normally would have split up, but since Justine was new and they both were slowed down, he just kept her with him and corrected her gently the one time she pointed her shotgun at him. She nearly lost it then and started crying. But silently. Jake spoke firmly looking her right in the eyes.
“Yes, I should have shot you just then. I'm obviously too nice for my own good. Don't tell anyone or they'll all start singing all night long and holding screaming contests. You won't do it again though will you? I'm almost starting to feel a connection here between us. You know, you work with me, I don't have to shoot you, a whole team-mate like vibe. What do you think?” He watched her carefully, but the girl stopped crying and nodded.
“Sorry, I won't do it again.”
Not twice at least. He really would kill her if she did. There were limits after all. The rest of the day went better that way, her weapon control became perfect almost instantly. Nothing like the specter of imminent and instant death to get, and keep, a person's attention.
Jake felt a little bad about not actually doing his share of the work, but it had to happen, probably for a few days. Not waiting until his arm healed, but he had to build the blood he'd lost back up, which took longer when you were living on short rations.
Before dinner he washed again, and changed the hasty bandage on the wound. It stuck, but soaked free eventually and only bled a little bit when he finally ripped the cloth away. They could boil the bandages and reuse them, so he put them in a bag of similar things that had to be cooked clean. Reuse everything or do without. One thing the zombies had done for the world. Screw recycling, no one got rid of anything now. Even old tin cans and gum wrappers got saved. People picked up likely looking trash from the side of the road if they could, just because everything had value now. So... yeah. They reused bandages and clothes from dead people too. If they had time, the only thing they got rid of were the bodies. Zombies went in whole, because no one knew for certain how it might transmit. Bites yes, scratches sometimes, but what if it could be carried on clothing or something like that? Rare, no doubt, but enough of a threat that their group at the house didn't take the chance.
At dinner everything changed suddenly and without warning for Jake. That morning no one had noticed him bleeding to death on the floor, but suddenly a lot of people wanted to sit with him at his normal table. The three women squeezed in tight together, taking about one and a half places between them, touching side to side for some reason. From the glares they were getting, it probably had to do with the fact that no one else wanted them yet. That would change after a while. Carley moved in beside him and Tipper, even though he really wasn't talking to her yet. He'd back her up in a fight, but as a friend? Not worth it. The big surprise for him was Marty, the possibly not so useless guy. He moved in beside Molly across the table and cleared his throat nervously.
“Um, could I...” He didn't finish so Tipper did it for him.
“Come help us with the wood tomorrow again, because we have a man down? Sure. Glad to have you aboard. Good thinking really. I should have asked.” She didn't give him a chance to speak addressing Molly first.
“Moll, you'll look after him until he gets his feet under him, right?”
The formerly depressed girl that still seemed a little out of it most of the time grinned, a nearly happy thing. Like she'd gotten a new puppy to play with and named him Marty. Well, if he messed on the floor she was cleaning it up, not Jake.
“Sure. We
can be partners Marty. It'll be fun.”
The man's eyes went wide, but he didn't shout and make Jake shoot him, which won the guy another star. A red letter day for sure. Whatever that meant. Jake looked at the man and stared for a bit.
“That's good, Marty, glad to have you on board, but you were saying something before these two ambushed you?”
“I wanted to know if I could help with the plans for the underground shelter, I used to be a structural engineer, once upon a time, and may be able to help a little here or there. Digging too, but what kind of plan do you have?”
Jake smiled and suggested they get with Burt after dinner. He didn't know what a structural engineer did, but if it had anything to do with building, they could probably use the man. They'd just have to work around his other schedule, working on getting wood, too. That was all.
After dinner Burt took the man away, since it was potentially a big deal and Jake started to go to bed. Being shot always took it out of him and the kids had two helpers in the kitchen. But that wasn't a good enough reason to not do his share, was it?
Groaning, if inside, he dragged himself in and moved next to Yvonne, loading the plates into the cold wash water. The grease had to be scrubbed off, which Sammi and Tracy did with a will. August it may be, but they were losing light faster each night, and that made it harder to work. They could burn a candle, but if they could help it, they wouldn't. They worked in near silence, Yvonne nervous at first, but more relaxed by the time they were done.
“Thank you.” She said, her voice kinder and less afraid than before.
Jake didn't shrug, that pulled at his arm and hurt so he was avoiding actions like that for now.
“No problem, I've been trying to help out more as I could anyway. We all have to do our share or things just won't work.”
That got a gentle chuckle from Sammi. The girl stopped and looked at him as if he were a bit of a moron. Possible, but she smiled anyway, after a bit.
“For their lives, silly. She meant “thank you for not killing them”. Everyone knew that you were going to just shoot them, but no one wanted to order it done for theft. So they dumped it on “Jake the killer” only you surprised everyone, didn't you? Keep this up and everyone will think you're an actual person someday.”
Tracy gasped but Jake shook his head and smiled at the girl.
“Right. Until the next person goes off and can't stay quiet or tries to kill one of my friends, then it's back to the same-old-same-old. Half the people here think I like killing, but that's not true. I do it, but that doesn't mean I like it.”
A low sound, a laugh, came from behind them, turning carefully Jake saw a short form in the door, backlit by candle light from the other room. Dave.
“No, Jake's different than any of us. I like to kill. I always have. If it wasn't for this messed up situation I'd probably be killing cats and the neighbor's dog, gearing up for my serial murder career. Jake isn't like that at all. He actually cares about people.” The voice could have been derisive, but wasn't, it sounded a bit envious to tell the truth.
“That's why he brought in the stray girl he found and why you two get to live. The only thing is, people here treat him like crap. You all don't see it, not most of the time. Maybe Sammi does, but the rest of you shit on him and abuse his good nature and think it's alright because he's just a sicko killer, but it's not true. He's a guardian, not an assassin. You may be afraid of what he'll do if you break the rules, but think about it, he never kills people just because he wants to, does he? Trust me, he has a lot of reason to be pissed. If people keep doing that we're going to lose him and then we're screwed. This thing won't work without Jake, but no one's going to listen to me about that. People think that Burt or Nate is the glue holding us together. They are, but only part of it.”
Sammi sighed, a soft thing that would have been missed back before.
“I know. I just don't know what to do about it yet.” She sounded horribly responsible just then. It was weird and made Jake tilt his head a bit. It didn't make a lot of sense. Why would the youngest person there feel like it was her part of things to fix his broken and messed up world? Shouldn't it be the other way around?
No one spoke for a second. Probably because Dave had basically proclaimed himself a psychopath in front of a bunch of people that didn't already know. They'd probably stopped listening about then. Well, it was still nice to know that Dave and Sammi didn't think he was a monster at least. If it takes one to know one, then the guy could probably see the difference too.
The boy continued.
“Anyway, Yvonne and Tracy need to sleep in the first room with you tonight, Justine too. Otherwise some of the others are going to beat them. Just thought I'd give you a heads up. Sneaking around to do that is too cowardly for my blood. If they want to beat them, they could just take a vote and do it in the living room. Plus that would probably get loud. Maybe they could gag them first? It actually sounds kind of fun. We should keep it in mind if we have to punish anyone in the future. Maybe we could find some popcorn? Anyway...” Then he turned and walked away without finishing. The two women stiffened and Tracy looked half panicked. Sammi got them settled easily enough, just patting them each on the arm gently for a few seconds.
“Piffle. Anyone trying that will be shot by Jake and they all know it. But it gets dark, so sleep with him tonight, then it will all be fine. No one will want to chance testing him. The last ones foolish enough to try both died after all.”
For some reason that made them all seem much calmer, though they didn't leave his side, not even to go to the bathroom before bed. They collected Justine on their way past, she was discussing cisterns with Burt and Marty. She still had her shotgun with her and had it pointed at the floor very carefully. They found Heather sitting on the stairs just waiting for them.
“There's an extra mattress in the room at the end of the hall. A queen size one that man who shot you used. We can steal it, I think, if we're quick about it. No one else has taken it yet.”
The raid was quick and silent enough that even carrying a mattress almost no one saw them. That was a piece of work, because there were bodies all over the floor already laid out in a human obstacle course. Heather led them through. They made it back without stepping on anyone and got things all situated tidily within about ten minutes. It took squeezing to get the new mattress into place, but that was fine. No one really seemed to care, not realizing that the “bad women” had moved in next door, less than a foot away in at least one case.
Heather took the spot next to him again, and covered them both with a thin blanket.
“I'll sleep next to you, so that everyone knows we're together. Um, is that alright? I mean, I can't... not yet, but it will be important later I think. I don't want Justine to grab you up. That doesn't end well. I'm sorry about that, it has to be done though.”
She moved close to him and put her arm over his gently. Almost protectively or like she was claiming ownership. Jake smiled a little into the dark. They were together? It wasn't confirmed and he didn't want to hope for too much, but his breath caught. He hugged her back a little. It was warm and close.
She was asleep in a few minutes, breathing softly and irregularly. Jake fell asleep about an hour later. All the people around him made it uncomfortable suddenly, the girl cuddled to him left him hard and frustrated, unable to even go jerk off. They didn't have privacy there except on the toilet and you didn't want to take longer than you had to with seventy people sharing two bathrooms. It was frustrating, but since Heather seemed to actually like him, worth it. Waiting would be hard, but if she was willing to be that close to him...
He fell asleep at last, wondering how many logs they'd need to make the underground nursery secure enough. About eighty he thought, maybe a hundred. Some of the spaces would have to be filled with smaller pieces cut to fit. It wouldn't do to let dirt fall through on babies.
He woke in the night to find someone kissing him.
That was a bit of a
shock. At first he figured it to be Heather, but that didn't feel right. After a few more seconds he got it. A dream. The taste of rot in his mouth gave it away. A freaking zombie dream.
Of course. He couldn't just have a dream about making out with a girl, could he? No, that would be too much to ask.
Great.
The lights turned on brightly, but without an actual source, so he could see that the woman kissing him, standing over him, was his Mom. Just like she'd been when he blew her brains out. Post bullets.
“Hi Mom. Well, fucked up dream huh?” He said conversationally, waiting for her to bite him or whatever the plan was.