by P. S. Power
“Don't worry about it. What are friends for?” Of course with friends like her, there was always the option of killing yourself due to the loneliness, but Jake didn't mention that part, just patting the side of the bed and walking into the kitchen.
Sammi was already making dinner, because she was actually useful like that. Her movements were a lot more efficient than they had been the last time he'd seen her cooking. Then, she didn't have to hide anything anymore. She'd also liberated a pound of flour from the stores at the House and was making bread in his wash pot. It was interesting, how she did it, taking a much smaller, all metal pan with a lid and burying the whole thing under warm coals and ash. She'd brought her own yeast starter too. That plus a stew seemed to be dinner that night. No garlic though.
She hated it after all.
It smelled a lot better than what he normally made by far. His mouth watered a bit as he sat down at the table and hunched over, rubbing at his face, tired again. Jake always felt tired now, even when not working that hard. It kind of sucked.
Sammi finally sat, waiting for things to simmer or bake, and shook her head at him.
“Young Heather has been most worried about you. She's made a point of speaking to me often about the matter. A little over concerned, I think.”
“Young Heather may be insane. Or evil, so, you get the idea, don't take what she says as valid. If she thinks talking to you about me will get her way, she'd do it without thinking about it. I'm kind of surprised she hasn't tried to get everyone to attack me yet. No doubt that's coming soon. I don't get why she hates me so much, but...” He just stopped talking. What could he say about it? The whole thing just didn't make sense. Even if she just didn't “like him that way” like she'd said. Several times now. Even though he hadn't asked.
The little girl, woman, Jake corrected, in front of him didn't answer. Not at first. Instead she looked to be considering something, glancing away for a while and then back at him, her eyes glinting slightly in the glow from the stove.
“She doesn't.” Was all she said. Then she just sat.
Jake just sat too. Oh, he knew that he was supposed to ask what it was she didn't do. But he knew what Sammi was trying to say. That Heather didn't hate him. If only he could believe that. The girl had made things too hard for him, for too long. No, if it wasn't actual dislike, then it was something worse. Some true insanity or...
“I don't know. Maybe not, but whatever game she's playing, I don't want to anymore. You know?” It all just hurt too much.
At first Jake had thought Heather might actually be interested in him. She'd said so. Kind of. Then, in less than a day, he went from thinking they might someday be a couple, to her sleeping with Randy, after putting him off, because she'd been too traumatized by all the times she'd been raped. If she had been at all. He mentioned all of this to Sammi, going over all of it even though it embarrassed him a lot, about the other women, and all the things that he'd been feeling. It seemed ridiculous, but the girl just listened, even when she had to get up to work.
“So, you know, I have to trust what people say, but... they keep lying to me. I try to be there for people, but I keep getting put down for it, even attacked. Now this stuff... Tell me Sam, does Carley actually have a chance of living? Is this whole thing just another scam somehow? Some way to, I don't know, punish me?”
“Don't be silly. You should trust me enough at least to know I wouldn't risk lives on a whim or for a prank. Killgrade die of trauma or organ failure. That's all. The later only happens in extreme old age. I've never heard of one dying from any other cause.”
That was something he could count on then.
Sammi was a total badass when it came to doing the right thing. She'd even told Holsom that they should kill him, to the man's face. Luckily she hadn't been sleeping with him. Or maybe not, because Jake would have killed him for that, and a lot of problems would have been avoided. The girl wasn't a real girl after all.
“How old are you anyway? You didn't tell me before, you just said I wouldn't believe you. I think I might now.” He didn't expect an answer, it was probably a rude question, but the girl smiled.
“One hundred and forty-six.” She kept working, moving in the near dark perfectly. “I did mention I was the oldest person in the House, didn't I?”
“Yeah.” Jake didn't say more. He did believe her though. There was no reason not to.
About that time Carley came into the room, and sat at the table.
“I... didn't know all that, about how things had been for you Jake.”
“I did mention it, a few dozen times.” He tried to sound bland about it, not angry. It came out sad. Depressed sounding.
The blonde woman brushed at a curl with her left hand and then winced as the pain from the bite hurt. After that she put her hand down and blew out a deep breath in a great gust.
“You did. I just...”
“Don't like me that way? Because I'm 'creepy' and useless? Too ugly to be near for too long? That gross guy that everyone hates, just because, even if they don't know why?” Jake chuckled a bit when he said it.
Both women winced.
They didn't say anything though. Oh, it wasn't true, he knew. No one sane thought he was really useless. He worked a lot after all. People said he wasn't ugly, but that was almost a moot point now. As for people hating him, well, they did, but everyone knew why. It was because he killed people. To save others, sure, but no one would care about that when it was their boyfriend or wife he had to shoot, would they? Though really, Carley should have been able to see past that part of things.
She'd been born an assassin. He said this softly, which got her to look down for a while.
“But I worked as a photographer, Jake. I've never killed anyone. There really isn't a big market for secret super killers, or there wasn't before. I was raised to be a killer, I know how, but there was no call for it, so I found other things to do. It's not an excuse. I really should have seen past what you had to do. I kind of did. I mean, of all the men at the House, you're my favorite. I just...”
Jake shrugged, getting the idea. She just couldn't make herself feel anything pleasant about him at all. It was just what was.
Sammi sniffed, “bread's done.”
“You can smell when bread's finished baking?” Jake asked, sniffing the room himself. It smelled like baking bread, but it had for a while.
“You can't?” Carley said, sniffing the air herself.
“Well, you know, the only guy in town with no super-powers. Well, me and some zombies. Though they get that undead thing, so even that isn't true really.” Jake laughed at this, because otherwise it would sound depressed, and he couldn't afford that anymore. He'd whined enough already. It was time to work now, he decided, trying to hold to that idea.
The stew and bread was really good. It was sourdough, but that was all right with Jake. He'd liked that even Back Before. Now it had to do with how Sammi and Lois had caught some wild yeast from the air, using magic probably, as far as Jake could tell. It worked though, so who was he to say any different?
Carley looked at her arm and ate some stew before answering. They had the time and everyone tended to stay quieter at his place. It was nice, though he didn't really understand the effect. Maybe it was the lack of other people? That, or everyone thought he'd get pickier about noise in a small space. The woman shook her head at him after she finished her bite of food.
“Most of the so called powers suck though. Sure, being a Valkyrie would help right now, but look at me. I'm possibly a day away from killing everyone around me, or I would have been. Sammi has it pretty good, she can handle a lot, but-”
Sammi interrupted with a laugh, “except the part where I'm going to be a little kid for the next fifty years? It's not so bad at home, but out in the world it's a pain in the ass. Sometimes literally. Do you have any idea how many pedophiles there used to be? I can't catch Aids, but I'm no match for a grown man in a fight either.” She shuddered, a realistic move,
big enough to be visible in the dark.
“Can't you just,” Jake waved his hand a little, not knowing how to describe it really. “Mind-trick them or whatever it is you do?”
“Yes. Sometimes. Unless they're truly insane, or just attack. It takes time to convince a person of something, seconds, but without that time the whole thing is kind of useless.”
That got Carley to say more though, changing the subject a little.
“Nate has a cool power, I guess. Except the part where he really thought he was going insane the whole time and might have been making up the zombies too. Just go down the list Jake, most of the powers aren't even that cool. Bart can warm stuff up and even start a fire with his hands? Great, even OK in a fight, but not against zombies. Or someone like Carl or Vickie, who could hit him with half a room, or you, who would just shoot him anyway. Or use a spear or... You get the idea.”
“Or,” Sammi added softly. “Julio, whose ability to know what the weather will bring is valid and useful, but not protective at all. We have a few days of clearing to come, but then the snow will linger. We need to move on things quickly.”
Jake grunted but didn't say anything, because knowing the weather was still a thousand times cooler than his ability to do nothing at all. Kind of like Aquaman, yes, bullets didn't bounce off of him, all he could do was breath underwater and talk to fish. All Jake could do underwater is drown after a couple of minutes and be eaten by those same fish. Sure, the House had a bunch of Aquamen in it, but, crud, really, he'd love to read minds or be able to lift tables with his blood, even if it wasn't useful. It was all just so... cool.
Oh well. He'd make do with working hard and not trying to be a spaz all the time.
Originally Jake had kind of planned to leave the next day and go stay at the House, uncomfortable or not, since it blissfully lacked the spewing toxic death of Carley with the zombie sniffles or whatever it was they were calling her potential version of things. It sounded like a good plan to him, but apparently the roving band of looters that showed up thought otherwise.
It should have been some big, traumatic thing, but Jake just couldn't take the three men seriously. The leader was stick thin, but that didn't mean safe, not at all. He had a sword and a knife. Jake figured he must be good with them, if that was all he used to protect himself from zombies, but the way he waved them around gave the lie to that.
“Hey, um, you guys want something to eat?” He said, quietly enough, but with a smile. It was a real offer, but the men didn't see it that way. One tried to shoot him then, which was really pretty rude.
That one, who had a shotgun, died instantly, before Jake knew he'd even killed the man. The two remaining guys panicked and tried to run.
“Are you sure you don't want any food?” Jake called, keeping his voice low. Neither answered, until the swordsman turned and ran at him, screaming.
Moron. Was he trying to call the dead down on them? He died too and then the last man, because... Honestly Jake didn't know. He just shot. The man had a hand in his pocket and was near the tree line when he exploded. A grenade or bomb of some kind? Who walked around armed like that?
Dead people. You couldn't fight the undead with a single hand grenade.
That kind of ended his decision to go off and leave Sammi and Carley alone. Just in case anyone else showed up. Instead Jake just walked a searching spiral around the cabin and uncovered something interesting. A family of deer in the woods that ran when he found them. Or tried to. He killed three, again without thinking about it. Luckily the house wasn't far off, because it would have been a real chore to carry them, or drag them, by hand. The cart was close though, so he got everything done before lunch, bled the deer and got them ready, then buried the remains of the three guys.
They should have accepted the free food.
Morons. He could have taken them to the House where they could have met some women even. They weren't him, after all. It was a sweet set up for almost any other guy there now.
The next problem was almost comical. They didn't have a secret knock established. At the House they had new ones each week. It was almost a hobby, coming up with them. He hadn't bothered, but an explosion going off like that earlier had to be off-putting. Jake thought for a second and then rapped out the first line to “Happy Birthday to You.” It was the last knock that he knew for certain Sammi had heard him use before.
“Who's there?” This came through the door, sounding slightly menacing. Sammi trying not to sound eleven.
“It's Jake.” After a few seconds he grinned. “Can't you tell that by smell?”
“You just smell like blood...”
“Deer blood, mainly. None of it's mine.”
The door opened a crack and the little face smiled up at him. After a second she let him in, chuckling a bit. Carley seemed OK still and sat at the table sipping a cup of tea, or something similar. Jake didn't have anything like that, so it had to have been in the little bag the girl had brought with her.
“I need to wash up.” No one wanted to be around people that smelled like blood, right?
Thankfully neither woman said anything about that. He stopped as he walked past, since it might be important.
“Oh, um, raiders. Three of them. They weren't very good. I offered them food, but that just seemed to tick them off. Probably my tone of voice that did it. I wasn't trying to be a jerk though. Just trying to not laugh at them.”
Then he went for his bath, which was warm already. Not hot, but one of the others had obviously started the little fire under the tank. It was warm to the touch, which made scrubbing in the big white tub much nicer than it might have been. Then, after shaving and re-brushing his teeth, Jake got into a new set of clean clothing. It was literally new, having been taken from a store in town. Layers, of course, with a pair of long-johns on underneath, thick woolen socks, new, if light blue, jeans and two shirts, a green pull over and a loose flannel long sleeve. He put those on over the top. What it looked like he couldn't tell. Well, he could see it in the mirror, but what anyone else would think of it, that kind of context had left a long time before.
He put his boots on before going out again, then grabbed his jacket without a word, going to refill the water tank and make sure the fire was well stocked with wood.
That was when he saw the other two. One shambler, the other, it turned out, was fresher than that and ran at him once it got his scent. It took him by surprise, and three bullets apiece to stop. It wasn't that he missed, they just didn't stop from the first two bullets for some reason. Like they were tougher than normal.
It wasn't until he was taking the heads that he understood. They weren't new extra magical zombies or anything. They were frozen. They moved just as well, but the flesh was hard, and this somehow gave them a bit of armor they didn't normally have.
Wonderful.
Because what they all really needed now were better zombies. He'd been hoping they'd freeze solid and stop for the winter, but knew better. That would be too easy.
Jake carted the bodies away and then found himself with a dilemma. He couldn't actually dig in the ground at the moment. The icy dead still moved too. On the good side they didn't do much, so Jake opted to hack the limbs off and leave them well away from the little house, nearly a mile. Not a good solution, he just couldn't think of anything else to do.
He'd worn a face mask the whole time, but, really, it didn't seem to make much of a difference. It did keep his nose warm though, which wasn't a trivial thing. Jake walked back into the kitchen and sighed at Sammi as she looked at him questioningly.
“Frozen zombies are harder to kill. I need to scrub up again.” He meant it to sound funny, and his voice really made that clear, but neither woman so much as smiled.
So much for a career in stand-up.
Also, so much for him going anywhere. Worse, the frozen ones hadn't made his stomach turn. That kind of meant his early warning system really was scent based. So, winter was looking to be fun all around.
Each day after that was similar. No more people yet, but day after day there were new zombies. It was almost as bad as it had been about a month after the announcement. Maybe worse, considering how far they were from town here. He had a pile of dismembered bodies growing rapidly by day five. The only saving grace being that he also got a lot more meat. He moved the animals one at a time, prepping the meat with care and then went out again.
Jake burned through half of his ammo that way and just hoped he didn't have to deal with a hoard any time soon. At least they were spread out so far, the rate wasn't too bad at any one time yet.
Yet. How long would that last though?
Really, thinking about it carefully, Jake wondered if he was just being a pessimist. Then, did they have those anymore? It was so hard to tell. Did it really matter if the field was half-full of zombies or half-empty? Had it ever? With anything? It was kind of a valid thought, as long as he didn't strive for actual meaning. The fact was, other than his own mood, and the way people around him felt, none of it mattered. Philosophy was just a way to pass the time now. Had it ever really been more than that?
Carley didn't spew toxins and diseases all over the place, which she said meant that whatever made up the zombie infection, it was similar enough to what she could incorporate that it didn't trigger a real defense response.
“Incorporate? That... doesn't sound good and safe Carley. Does that mean...”
“That I can infect someone now at will? Yep. That's the way it works. Any disease, any chemical, all that. I... really should be able to do the whole pheromone trick Derrick did too. I wouldn't have gotten hooked on it if I wasn't getting a constant stream coming in, I don't think. I just don't want women wanting to screw me that bad, so I haven't tested it.”
Um.
Jake shook his head and grinned at her.
“Fine, you just produce it and I can rub you all over my body before I ask a woman on a date. Except for the part where that's nearly as creepy as no women being willing to sleep with me at the end of the freaking world, it sounds almost cool.” Except the whole rape aspect of it. Of course none of the women that Derrick had done that to thought it was rape, did they?