Dead End Stories From the End of the World

by P. S. Power

  “God, don't kill me! I didn't do anything. It was him, he made me do it!” Tammy screeched this at first, but got silent when she saw Jake.

  Now, if she'd claimed that Bill had done it, forced her to participate in the takeover, or Holsom had, sneaking back or something, then Jake might have bought it, but the woman stared at Clint. The only thing there was that the man, the whining coward, didn't deny it he just looked down.

  “I just said we should throw in with the winning side. That's all.” He grinned, a manic and crazy looking thing. “I guessed wrong though, didn't I.”

  Jake shrugged affably, a small smile on his face, and shot him. He'd been too nice to people before, and one of them lay dead at his feet right now, her unborn child with her. He did not feel good about that, Holsom's baby or not. Later it would hit him, but for now he had to finish this up.

  “How about you Tammy. Got anything to say on your behalf other than someone giving you bad advice? Carley's a friend of mine, after a fashion, I suppose. So I kind of have to look down on attacking her in general. That's the rule with friends, isn't it?” Even if she did have her moments that might push a person into that kind of action. Still, you didn't do it. Attack a person to silence their opinion? Crazy.

  The woman looked at him for a full fifteen second before speaking, her voice low and level, “I'll suck your cock. Any time. I'll fuck you whenever you want. You can take me up the ass. Just let me live. Anything you want, anything.” Her tone was panicked and he shook his head.

  Not because it shocked him, or even embarrassed him, virgin or not. No it was just that she'd waited until now to make the offer. Besides, even Jake was smart enough to realize she didn't really mean it. Women would say anything to stay alive.

  In fairness, he reflected, almost anyone would in a case like this, facing almost certain death. Who could blame them?

  “Couldn't have said that two months ago could you? Here, I know, let's put it to a vote. Anyone that thinks we should let her live so that I can finally get some, raise your hand.” He looked around his left hand raised half way, a mock hopeful look on his face. No one else did though. Well... darn. It was the closest thing to a real offer he'd ever had.

  “Sorry, doesn't look good. Too bad, I always wanted to try that stuff. Looks like no one wants me to get laid at all. Oh well.” He started to pull the trigger.

  “Wait!” A call, too loud by far, came from the house door, it stopped, so he didn't even bother pointing a weapon at the woman who spoke.

  Carley. Her hair was shorter, maybe an inch of curls all over her head. It actually looked good on her, as thin as she was now. Sporty.

  Jake smiled at her, her face a mass of bruising at least as bad as Tammy's. He raised his hand in a half wave as she jogged over, a weapon in her own hand. She didn't smile or speak until she was nearly on top of the circle of the dead and dying. Jake expected her to shoot Tammy in the head, for beating her, but instead she giggled softly. It also had a maniacal edge to it.

  Some new trend he'd missed being away? Laughing like a bad movie villain?

  “We all make bad choices sometimes, don't we? She fell in with a bad crowd. I think she sees the error of her way now. We should give her a second chance. If she agrees to abide by all the rules, work hard and not do this kind of thing again. That... it worked with two of the three women, didn't it? Tammy isn't even pregnant, so no hormone craziness.”

  Jake shrugged and looked at Nate, who just stared at the girl on the ground. Others came around and listened from a ways off, since there were fourteen dead, no one wanted to chance being number fifteen for the day. They needed to get Carl into a bed, probably in quarantine, and get him some real care, if they could. Jake ordered it as if he still lived there and several people came to carefully carry the large man in. Lois didn't say anything much, but nodded at him.

  “Thank you Jake. This had to be done.” The tone was firm and a little stiff. Since the woman was a dedicated pacifist, Jake thought it was awfully big of her to thank him. What he and Dave had done was the opposite of peace. Then she went to look after the injured cleaner.

  Vickie walked over carefully. She hadn't come out for the killing, but then she hadn't fought against any of them either. She looked nervous, but that wasn't his problem was it? He'd never had any problem with her. He'd never asked her to have sex, given her history, but she hadn't insulted him by shooting him down before he could say more than hello either. Really she'd been about the nicest of all the women, as far as that went.

  She hesitated and spoke softly.

  “I held my people back. It was my order. I didn't know what way things were going to go, and I couldn't afford to let us be weakened any more. I know I should have acted, but...” She shrugged.

  So did Jake, “We had it. Didn't even get scratched. Anyway, unless you need me for anything, someone should take out that super-zombie and cart the bodies away. I brought some stuff, bedding and things. Some baby stuff near the bottom, that I've collected. A few animals for dinner if you hurry. Fresh. Well, I should be getting back home. Guests... and I need to make up for the work I lost today. Later. I'll send the others back when they're ready, if you don't come for Sammi first.”

  Giving a half wave he turned and started walking. At least he hadn't been hurt this time, which made a pleasant change. His boots, black and formerly owned by someone who'd been wearing a police uniform that had a name tag that said “Thomson” on it fit well and didn't rub through the thick socks. It had gotten cool outside finally. He'd picked up a lot of clothing and coats too, in his scavenging, figuring that bundling up was better than freezing if he had to go hunt or collect wood in the snow. He'd walked for nearly half a mile before he realized that Tammy was following him.

  Jake gave her a look, eyebrows raised.

  After all, they'd seemed to have forgiven her back there, so why should she be following him around? Plus, how the hell had she been following him for that long without him knowing it? Secret ninja skills or something? It was like her feet didn't make any noise on the ground. Jake's did and he was trying to be quiet.

  She didn't say anything or even look up. Well, whatever. He didn't have a high opinion of her, but she could help with Burt. Unless she was the killer. He doubted it, but he'd keep an eye out just in case. The idea that a girl, woman really, couldn't be a killer was ridiculous.

  Maybe he could get her to work? Those apples and walnuts to start. Whatever else they could find before it all died or started to rot. If she wouldn't work, then he could kick her out. Possibly at night. It seemed to him that she'd voted for him to leave. It made the current situation a little ironic. Or maybe not, if she managed to fit in at his place. After all, that vote led to him finding something else, didn't it? Things were better for him now. Maybe they would be for her too? If she wanted it. Jake wouldn't even hold her to her promise of sex, since that was obviously just her trying to live, not an actual offer.

  Then they walked as he talked finally, going over what he did, what he had planned and the preparations he already had. Jake even covered the sex stuff. Oh, it would be nice if she'd put out, but really, he got it. She didn't say anything, but her body posture suddenly looked more relaxed. Then he covered what he'd managed so far, just to talk. It was one of the things he missed about having other people around. Talking.

  “So a lot of meat. We can eat all winter. I mean, if you want to hang out with me, but the work can't really stop, because I got such a late start. But... Look, I don't really know you, so I'll just say this... Pull your weight, and if you want to be on my team, be on my team. Full out, all the time. Got it? You can turn and go back right now. None of those people is a killer except Dave and you've lived with him for months. Heck he's thirteen, throw him a couple hand jobs or flash your breasts at him and he'll probably be your best friend for life. They'll take you, if you go back.”

  She shook her head.

  “I... haven't done well so far. I was kind of a spoiled bitch before,
and I let that mindset keep going. This might work better for me. I know you'll kill me if I fuck up too much. I can leave and maybe have a fall-back there if I can't hack it. Could be worse. At least you bother to bathe regularly. It makes going down on a guy way more fun.” She walked with her face hidden behind her hair.

  Jake blushed then. His face actually grew warm. She actually intended to do things with him? After he said she didn't have too? That was... Not very believable, was it? He kept listening, but with a bit more wariness now for some reason.

  “Clint was spotty that way at best, I wasn't looking forward to mid-winter. That place is going to reek with all those unwashed bodies that close.” She sniffed and giggled, sounding younger than her squarish face looked.

  She had to be in her thirties. Not that it mattered now. Life span was measured in how long you lasted after the announcement, not how long you'd lived before. The rest was just window dressing. Hair, clothes, looks. They mattered, but a lot less than a warm house and food. And bathing apparently. That one was real enough.

  “Well, I have a tub and a water heater, enough for a full bath, two even if we share the water. I mean half a bath full each, not at the same time. It doesn't have a direct pump yet and the one I made kind of sucks, but we have Burt at my place, so we can see if he can give us some hints? I doubt we can manage a windmill yet, but I have a tank that we can use to make a cistern, you know, raise it up and feed it in to the house so there will be running water inside? It will suck pumping it in the winter, but we can only do what we can. If I can find some good hand tools I could do a lot more. I haven't found any yet.”

  Something made Jake tense just a bit as he spoke, some bit of body movement that didn't belong in the woman following him. It was silent. Totally so, with no rustle of clothing, no sound of air passing around her. It spoke of dead things to Jake's mind.

  The knife she had hidden on her, near the back of her jeans, swung effortlessly at his back. The move had a smooth and practiced feel that kind of looked pretty. He saw it, the last half of it, as he turned and shot her in the throat. He wanted to roll his eyes at her, but didn't. She gasped and stared at him instead. He didn't shoot her twice, since he'd wasted twelve bullets that day already. Instead he stood and waited for her to die. It took a while, so he chatted with her for a bit.

  “You know, you could have just gone along with me and tried that in my sleep. Isn't that the way you've all been doing it? Or stayed at the house with the others. Really, I'm not sure what your point was here at all. Just to make my day a little less bright? And here I thought we were going to be friends. Anyway, mind if I borrow your knife to behead you?” She gasped at him, a low gurgle. Bubbly with a hint of red foam from both the hole in her neck and her mouth, so he'd hit the air way. That meant she got to drown in her own blood. That sounded sucky. Her deep purple tank top was getting red and her shoes were too little for him, but might fit Sammi or someone else, so he started to take them off of her. She wet her pants then, which got him to laugh.

  “Relax, I'm just stealing your stuff. I may want to get laid, but we're at least half a year away from me being so desperate I'd try a dying woman. Too bad though, that you had to attack like this. No matter how bad I turn out to be in bed, it almost has to have been a better option than this. Or, you know, you could have just gone back. Really, not trying to be a dick here, but almost anything you could have done would have worked better, you know that? Well, you're almost done now. Have anything to say?”

  She mouthed some words, they were familiar enough that he got it, even though no sound came from her mouth.

  “Fuck you.”

  He smiled and waited, knowing that would be the last things she'd see. Then he took her head off and walked to his house for a shovel. After the burying was done he went back and explained everything to Sammi and Burt. Leaving in the part where Tammy offered herself to him. Probably not appropriate for a child, but Sammi didn't seem to mind overly. Lots of people had sex at the house, even with her in the room. They kind of had to given the way things were set up. Innocently enough she went into a fairly long story about how loud Heather and Randy got.

  Regularly.

  Jake just nodded and tried not to be angry at Sammi about that. She didn't know about the rest of things after all, did she? Not unless Heather had told her.

  Burt did, and he tried to shush the girl several times, but nothing came out. Not loud enough to get her attention. A low hiss that could have been confused with his breathing. Except it wasn't. Sammi smiled at him and grinned.

  “People were throwing their pillows at them, because you know, we can't yell, right? This was after you were gone, but everyone still tried to follow that rule. Dave said he'd shoot anyone that broke it, but then they voted his gun rights away, so he couldn't fight them. Without a weapon he's just like me and Ken, a kid, isn't he? Until he got it back. Shot Bill in the head you say? I'll have to send him a thank you note. That's only polite after all, when someone does you a good turn.”

  She winked at him and tucked Burt's blankets in around him a little tighter, then went to make a stew, without hesitating she went outside and collected up some things, taking about ten minutes, some roots, wild garlic and a few other things that she washed in a bucket of water and then cut up, describing what she did to him carefully. He paid close attention to the plants. These had been growing outside and he'd never even realized they were there. Bits of green that he didn't know how to use, before. The girl just chattered softly, an almost sing song thing, it was relaxing and it didn't require a lot from him, just occasional agreement or sound indicating he listened, which he did.

  She served him stew and fed some to Burt, making sure he drank enough water. The man could get up to go to the bathroom, if he was careful, he assured them both, but Sammi told him to not be silly about the food and gave him half spoonfuls at a time until it was gone. Then she waited a bit and made him more even though he said that it was enough.

  “Hmmph. There's food here for four or five people all winter Burt, even if they eat well, and you need extra protein to heal. We've all been short for a while. It isn't anything we've thought about, having had so little for so long it seems like we have enough now, but it isn't in a case like this.” She kept working the whole time she spoke, her voice matter of fact, telling them both that they better not argue with her without saying the words.

  Jake didn't try to pay attention to her, she wasn't an enemy after all, but he did notice that she didn't eat. She took a tiny bowl of stew and pushed it around, only pretending to. Maybe she didn't like the stew? She'd made it though, and no one was all that picky anymore. He felt fine, so it probably wasn't poisoned.

  That nearly got a laugh from him, the thought that he was seriously wondering if the eleven year old girl was trying to poison him. But a five year old with a gun pointed at a zombie's head could take them out, so why not an older girl armed with a bowl of stew? Why though? They always seemed to get along pretty well. At any rate, he felt fine. Maybe it was a slow thing? Wake up with a knife in his chest or something after sleeping too deep? It was what Tammy should have done, really.

  They chattered until after dark, which presented a problem. Not that big of one, since she was a kid, but a girl too and had recently dealt with a pedo trying to screw her. He just gave her his bed, set up to the side of the kitchen and grabbed some extra bedding, using the “third” bedroom. It wasn't a proper room at all, just a little space with a bed taken from upstairs in it. Meant to be a closet or storage pantry. He couldn't see anything, so he made a kind of wadded up nest in the middle of the queen sized bed, with a few pillows for support. Not perfect, but he'd slept on worse. Recently even.

  Early the next morning he got up just before the dawn, being just habit by now, and noticed that Sammi wasn't in the bed or the bathroom. Instead he found her in Burt's room. The man flat on his back, his shirt up and pants pulled down enough to show a flat, white, expanse of flesh. What he saw didn't make sens
e. At first he though she was doing something sexual, from the way her head moved, but after a few seconds, unable to tear his eyes away, he figured it out. She wasn't going down on the guy, thank god.

  She just had his bandages off and was delicately licking his wounds. Slowly. Languorously.

  Ick.

  After a few minutes of this she slipped the bandages back on and adjusted the clothing, the bedding and her own shirt which had shifted up a little, which, as Jake knew, was annoying. Clothing just didn't fit right anymore. Not even your own. They'd all gotten too skinny for everything they had.

  When she turned her eyes caught the early light from the window, glowing like a cat's, a green reflection that didn't go away and wasn't a trick of his imagination. Ah. Well, that was strange.

  Then what wasn't anymore?

  Jake gestured to her and turned, walking outside. The girl followed, stiffly.

  Chapter Eight

  Once outside Jake kept walking for a bit, just in case things got violent. Normal people didn't walk around with glowing eyes, so who knew what she'd do? What powers she might have. Kind of sad too, Jake realized, because, all in all, the girl was one of his favorite people at the old house.

  Sammi followed, but didn't say anything until he stopped and turned around, a good bit away from the small house in the early light, next to the tree line. She stood close to him, he noticed, not three feet away. Conversational distance he'd heard it called. Back Before.

  Lately he'd thought of it as death distance. At this range a zombie could kill you with a single lunge and nibble. Sometimes with a little bit of ragged nailed flailing if you got unlucky. What were the odds that this little girl, in her pink and gray shirt and tiny blue jeans could take him from this distance as well? It didn't seem very likely, except he'd seen hundreds of kid zombies already. He'd killed nearly half that many. Small didn't mean safe.