by P. S. Power
Each night he slept alone and had to listen to everyone else cooing and chuckling in the dark, almost everyone. Each night he wanted to die just a little harder than before. A few of the women didn't sleep with anyone, but even Nate found a guy that liked both sexes and worked out an arrangement. That was Chris, the man kind of got shared between Rita and Nate. So every time Jake went to bed he woke up feeling just a bit worse. To make things rosier, no one else even noticed it was happening. That or they didn't care. It was dark, so Jake went with the first option, no one noticed. It didn't help much, but left him with some small belief that not everyone was an asshole.
He tried to cling to that.
He'd had about enough at any rate, and seriously considered just going back to the second house again. It was too late he knew. If he'd stayed there it would have been fine, but now he just couldn't get things done fast enough. Not without a lot of extra supplies. The snows would come soon, and he needed to be ready for Heather's cannibals. That would be tough enough with food, water and heat taken care of. Without... He might make it, if he could hide well enough, but it wasn't likely.
So he decided to get out, away from everyone, as he could. Nate may have been able to read minds or emotions or something, but the man didn't seem to understand what Jake was really getting at when he finally explained it. He was going. The leader thought that meant a whole team should go with him. It made great practical sense on the group level. It didn't on the personal one. Kind of a dilemma. Jake got that. It just wasn't his problem.
“It's an unsecured location. Bad enough you keep going into town alone, but Clyde is forty miles away. What if you get stuck? You need people with you. Or if you have to clean the town. Let me get some volunteers. I'll... we'll talk in the morning.” Then the guy just turned and left. Like that was going to stop Jake from doing what he wanted? Just cutting the conversation short?
It was true a team would help. The lone wolf bull that worked in Westwood now wouldn't cut it anywhere else. He just didn't want people around.
Was it too much to ask?
Probably.
But Nate should have gotten it anyway. The loneliness here was magnified somehow over what he'd have had alone. Worst of all was the shunning and disregard of him as anything other than a machine to kill things and get work done. That hadn't gone away when he returned, promises aside. If anything it was even worse now. As Jake tried to reach out to people more, he got pushed away harder.
Most of the people just didn't want him there, none of the women did at all. Maybe Dave, Nate and Burt. Possibly Julio. The rest just wanted him gone again, Jake thought morosely as he went to make sure the latest charcoal burn was going well. That hardly needed to be watched at all, he'd learned over time. The only thing he had to do was watch to make sure the soil didn't get so wet it put out the fire inside. That had happened with the second burn and they barely got any charcoal from it. The whole thing had to be restarted and allowed to burn hot for days to finish it. This was the third burn, he wanted to do more, but hadn't had time to go get the wood. No one seemed exactly eager to help now that it was getting cold either.
So it made sense to him to go alone when he could.
If only in an angsty “my life sucks” kind of way.
Which meant Jake was sorely disappointed the next day when he woke to find Tipper, Dave, Carl and Carley waiting for him along with Nate and Heather. At least Nate and Heather didn't have guns with them. The others did and small bags packed already as well. Heather didn't, thankfully, since he didn't want to fight about her not going, but she stood there anyway, arms crossed on top of her large stomach, looking ready to fight. Jake stared at them and shook his head.
“I won't be gone long. Just there, get some things and come back. There's no need...” That got interrupted by Tipper who chuckled darkly.
“You can't drive a stick shift can you? I can and so can Carl. Plus, you know, the first rule of cleaning; never go alone. You should at least, it's your rule. You made it up just before you saved my ass the first time, remember? It worked then.” Her voice wasn't kind, in fact it sounded a little sour. Bitter and harsh. Bitchy came to mind, if he wanted to be honest about it.
Jake sighed and shook his head.
“Fine Carl and Dave can come. Let's go.” He walked away without waiting to see if they'd follow.
Tip was right about the stick shift and probably the backup too. But it didn't have to be her. Heather ran after him and grabbed his arm, the right one this time, and pulled him around by force. His impulse was to break free and start shooting. He really thought he'd had about enough, but when she spoke something inside snapped finally.
“Jake, it's not fair for you to keep cutting out all the women around here. Just because it's been a little hard for you to meet someone...” Her voice was calm and silky, gentle and rage making all at once. Why he didn't know, but it was clear the girl was doing it on purpose, trying to start a fight. She was goading him.
It was working too.
Carley chimed in before Nate could stop her. He tried, desperately, seeing where the whole thing was going, like a train wreck, putting out his hand and getting a half manic look on his face, but Carley had never been too good about shutting up. Not if you didn't threaten to shoot her. She wasn't yelling though.
“Yeah, I mean, you're OK when it comes to work, but you won't hardly even talk to anyone anymore and if you're a woman, forget it, I didn't expect that kind of chauvinism from you. You always seemed like you believed in equality before. It's like you're saying we aren't your equals or even worth being around. We're people too you know.”
Then Tipper gave a short sharp nod.
“Yeah, we're teammates Jake, closer than family. We're supposed to be on the same side, but I keep wondering when you're just going to decide to not back me up in the field. Or maybe just put a bullet in my brain when my back is turned. I keep trying to make sure we work together, to patch things up but-”
Jake stared. Then slowly, he held up his left hand, palm out.
“By a little hard, you mean impossible? By chauvinism you mean me not letting you rag on me endlessly about not wanting to be put down or hurt again and again? And Tip, you're the one that said I wasn't good enough for you and then slept with half the guys here after claiming you were a lesbian. So, really...” Jake took a huge breath.
Then he decided not to just shoot them all. It was probably a mistake, but you didn't kill people you didn't have to. It was a rule. Not one of his, one of Nate's, but he'd enforced it a few times, which meant he had to agree now.
Darned rules anyway.
“I'm done with this, you all have exactly five seconds to get your shit together and start realizing that I matter too, or I'm taking my real share out of this place and going back where I evidently belong.” Jake turned and looked at their leader hard. “That was the deal Nate. You all promised when I came back that I wouldn't have to put up with this kind of crap, remember? You all said that I'd be treated better. It hasn't happened at all, and now I have to put up with more of this crap, and from these people?”
From the look on their faces they did remember, though it was clear that Tipper didn't think this situation should apply for some reason, even though she'd personally agreed not to do this anymore. She'd said it wouldn't happen, but here they were. Then Jake knew she was a liar, so it was his own fault for believing her.
“And I should get more at that, because I can't take the forge. I suppose I could take it down, but that seems a big waste. It was a lot of work. You all wasted my time here, made me feel unwelcome and now hit me with imaginary girl crap after what you've all done? Everything you've done has been a slap in the face. Every night here is a nightmare for me and every day is a big pile of shit.” He waited the five seconds he'd stated, but none of them apologized or even tried to explain. Jake nodded, looking at Nate again.
“Alright then. If that's your choice, I'm fucking gone.” It was a whisper, but a cold one, no
t speaking of the violence that wanted to pour out of him.
“Wait...” Nate sounded worried, and a little pissed. “We can't just part everything out now, winter's almost here. You... don't have time to get ready.”
“So? No one cares. I don't even care anymore. I have absolutely nothing to live for and making it all better for you people isn't doing much for me. No one's even tried to be nice to me, not one female in this whole place, the whole time, has bothered to try to get to know me, it's always just “you're not my type” or “I don't like you in that way”, sometimes without me even doing more than saying hi. Well screw that. Those aren't apologies or even explanations, they're insults and I don't have to take that crap from anyone now. In case you haven't noticed it's the end of the world and... I'm taking it all, everything I brought in or worked on, and you'll give it over or fight to the death for it. I can't take all of you maybe, but it's mine by both right and your own agreements, and if you get in my way I bet a few people go down before I do.” He grinned, a vicious thing. Soulless. They all stared disbelieving. As if they thought he was just having a bad day.
“Think I won't?”
Jake moved into action without saying anything else.
He loaded up the weapons and ammo he'd brought in first, if they were going to fight, he'd have a bit more than his nine on him and more rounds than he'd probably ever get a chance to fire off. It didn't even matter to him which they chose, not really, either way they were going to pay. It would take a while to get it all, but that was fine. He had a month or so. A few trips a day should do the trick.
He didn't eat breakfast with them, but a meeting was called after and he was asked in by Nate. He came, but this time he walked in with a semi-automatic pistol in his right hand and a sawed off shotgun in his left. Both could be used at the same time after all. His aim wasn't as good with his left hand, but with a sawed off he'd hit something.
Nate explained what had happened and what was going to happen, but no one said anything until Jake started listing off what was his by right. All the wood stoves, except the original little one they used for cooking in the first months. That came with the house. And the one Vickie had gotten. All the new warm bedding, sheets, towels and cookware and some of the old. Most of the old. The weapons and ammo he'd already taken care of, all the food he'd brought and helped get with plus enough extra to make up for the forge work and the hot water heater work. Though he could, he reminded them, just knock those down if they didn't want to bother trading. That would be fair, no one else had learned to use the forge yet anyway and they didn't really deserve warm baths, because they all sucked.
Part of the wood, and the plastic from the greenhouse. Most of the clothing people had now too. Then he remembered the mattresses. They started to complain when they actually got it, without some of that stuff they'd probably die. One of them started to get a little mouthy over it, Cisco he thought her name was, so he pointed the shotgun at the woman and chuckled. She did stop talking then at least. She was one of the remaining ones that had voted him out before.
For a few seconds Jake wondered if he should just kill her right then, for having pushed him too far. He didn't. It was closer than anyone knew though. His hands shook in rage, but he pushed it back and made himself relax, ready to fight, fear and anger or not.
“It's only fair. More... it was the deal made when I came back. You think I'm not good enough for you? Then what I've done isn't either, right? It's already been decided and you all chose this. Couldn't even care enough to mouth a few pleasant words at me. They didn't even have to be real, but no, I just didn't count enough for that, did I?”
One of the men who he didn't care about normally spoke up from the back of the room.
“Who said you weren't good enough? I think you're good enough. You've done as much as anyone here or more to keep things together... I... don't get it.”
“Who said that? Every woman here. Is that enough for you? Half of you voted me out last time too, and then I get asked to come back because you needed me, and was told I'd be treated more kindly, but instead I get exactly the same stuff over and over again.”
This time the conversation went a little differently. Most of the men had months without attention when Holsom had been around and for a good while after, while the effects wore off, so they'd felt it too. They'd heard some of the same things he had. Not as bad or for as long, not still, but they could sympathize.
The women all acted baffled.
They should have headed toward shame he thought, or at least understanding and feeling bad about hurting other people. They didn't though. More than a few of them glared at him in fact.
“But that's not the same!” Justine said loudly enough that the room turned to her in shock. She went more gently then, but no less emphatically, standing about ten feet away from him in the crowd. A lot of people stood.
“Just because a woman doesn't want to have sex with you that doesn't mean you aren't important to her. We all need you it's just...” She didn't continue at all.
“Just what?” His voice was low, scary and a bit menacing.
“Well, no one really feels that way about you, do they? You look fine, but you're kind of... creepy. Off-putting. Everyone expects you to kill them all the time and when you aren't killing you do nothing but work. Like a machine or something...” She finished softly, making the room go silent.
“Really? Fine. No, no... that's perfectly fine. What a good reason to alienate someone. Works hard and keeps you alive? How dare I? Seems a bit creepy? Around here? Look in a mirror lately? Half of you freaks aren't even human anymore and the other half are a waste of space. Nate,” he turned to the man and nodded firmly, the man flinched, probably getting what was about to happen.
“Get that stuff ready. Now. Even if it's here, if I catch anyone touching anything that I got or built, I will hunt them down. Understood? Is that creepy enough for you ladies?” He shrugged, the weapons in his hands coming up just a little. It wasn't clear who would start the shooting, but the room had that feeling. Someone, possibly a lot of someones, were about to die.
Jake made himself relax as much as possible, and took a deep breath, ready to move when Carl cleared his throat. It was almost enough to start the ball rolling.
“Jake man, I get that you're ticked, I even get why, believe me... but this isn't the way to fix it.” Carl said softly, carefully not bringing his shotgun around to point at him, even though it was at hand.
“You have a better way? Let's hear it then. I can't think of anything, but maybe you're smarter than I am?” Jake looked at him down the barrel of the sawed off. The large man was tough when called on for it. He probably wouldn't start anything, but he could. Underestimating him could easily be the last thing a person might do. Jake wasn't in the mood for that today.
“I...” He looked down. “Not off the top of my head, but we can't let you take all that stuff, even if you're right and have every right to it. Too many will die without it.”
Jake nodded.
“Kind of the point, they don't deserve to live. I came back and gave them a second chance and you all promised it would be better, but it just isn't. They all hate me and nothing I do can change that.”
Heather spoke up then, which she shouldn't have at all. Randy saw that and tried to stop her, but she didn't listen to his urgent plea.
“Well I don't need you or your stupid things Jake. I was doing just fine on my own before you got in my way and I can do it again!”
She yelled it and took another breath to do it again, Jake aimed without thinking and started to pull the trigger, her eyes went wide as the pregnant girl understood her mistake. The trigger was almost there, and one problem almost gone from his life, which caused a small warm feeling inside of him. Happiness? What an odd thing to feel at a time like this. He kept on pulling the trigger, time slowing around him, his feelings lifting with the pressure of his index finger. Suddenly a small hand touched his arm. Not hard, not dashing
the weapon out of the way. Just a single point of contact.
“Stop.” Sammi spoke softly, her voice in that eerie sing song she used to convince people of things. He'd heard it before he realized, directed at him, it hadn't worked on him then, but this time he hesitated. The soft blue sleeve caught his attention. Distracting him.
The bad feelings crashed back into place. No solving the Heather problem that day then. Unless he just shot her anyway. Jake took a deep breath and got ready to fight again, magical Sammi effects or not. Happiness wouldn't stop him from killing. Not twice.
The tiny woman that looked like a girl continued, her foxy face in a small smile.
“Heather, you're a dear, but your hormones are getting the better of you at the wrong time right now. Why don't you not talk for a while and I'll see if I can get this all sorted out, alright?” Her look was meaningful, but the psychic girl finally figured out that Jake might just shoot her. He had every reason to, except that she'd shut up and the moment was past. He put the weapon back to his side quietly, but stayed ready. The other cleaners might move on him at any second.