by P. S. Power
That stopped the woman at least, turning her movements from purposeful crawling to something approaching a dying insect kicking all of its remaining legs in the air. She didn’t go anywhere and while her mouth made biting motions, the eyes didn’t track with anything. The eye that was left at least. The right one had popped out.
Carl jumped in with an ax and took the head off with a single blow. It was a hard thing for him to do, beheading anyone like that, and he generally tried to avoid the duty if possible. Jake could understand that. They were dead, but they still moved and often looked human still. It could make it hard. That the muscular man did it now probably had more to do with not making the guests do it than anything else. Still, he could have gotten Vickie to work the ax. She didn’t seem to mind as much as he did.
The man was almost too nice for the new world they were in. Too sweet.
Since that was done and nothing else was coming out, Jake waved to everyone. Then he got Carl and Vickie to help him carry all the firearms back with them, so their guests didn’t have to. It was a weird thing to add, but they all grabbed four or five of them anyway, including Sammi, and no one asked what it was about or really seemed to notice. For his part he just tried to act like he was being really nice.
If one of them was a killer, or even if one of the groups wasn’t what they seemed, he really didn’t want them armed with extra weapons. They might still have them, so he couldn’t get lazy, but they weren’t supposed to, if that meant anything.
Then the dead weren’t supposed to try and eat your face on Christmas day either. Jake decided to just be careful. It generally paid off.
Like bathing. He really wanted to wash up before dinner. Before they all talked about anything too. Or at least while they did. It made sense, right? Everyone liked to be cleanly.
“If you’ll all join me in the wash house? I find it… pleasant to get clean after doing things like that. I think we can use the men’s side safely enough. I’m not planning on getting naked myself, so it should be all right.” Jake said the words like it was normal, which for him it was, washing like that.
The mixed gender thing was a bit odd, but no one seemed to have a huge problem with it, since clothing was staying in place. At least he figured that was the reason.
The interesting thing there was that everyone came. The bath house had wash areas for six people at once. You kind of had to take turns, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. People just picked a time each day and went then, which normally meant everyone could bath uninterrupted, save the same one or two people they normally saw. Jake was normally first each day, bumping into Julio on the way out. At least he had been, back when he lived there.
He hadn’t seen the man all day, which was a shame. He was a Christian after all, and one of the most valued members of their community. He’d almost single handedly gotten their crops planted. Oh, he didn’t do all the work himself, but he’d insisted others help, even when they were too scared to go outside to the fields, or felt tired. Given he didn’t speak much English, that was no mean feat.
People were lazy by nature. It took work to make yourself do anything, and even more work to get someone else to. Especially when you didn’t have anything tangible to bribe them with, like money. Telling them that they’d like to eat in four months so should help now was hard to do when everyone was already sick with hunger and just wanted to sleep or find food for the day. Julio had done it anyway, day after day.
Even without the food they’d gotten from their new friends, they would have had enough for the winter. It would have been closer than Jake liked, after adding all the new people, but they were making it anyway, thanks to some good luck hunting.
The sinks were basically just buckets with drains in them, made of white plastic, but they had hot water on tap, from real metal pipes, insulated so the outdoor chill wouldn’t ever make them freeze solid. Not if the fire was kept going and the water left to trickle a bit. Warm water at any rate, at the moment, the tank not really well heated again yet. Jake went first, just so everyone could see what he was doing, and scrubbed as well as possible without taking any clothing off. He did roll his sleeves up after taking his coat off, but that was all. It was just a psychological thing, his need to be clean. He hadn’t gotten dirty in all of that, but he just felt better knowing he washed after. That was all.
Zombies were kind of icky. Even frozen, and it was worse when they weren’t.
After that people started washing, using the bars of soap and towels provided, no one speaking for a while, as if it were some kind of religious ceremony instead of just a quick clean up. Finally, after Sammi went, he signaled to her, just a gentle hand motion. She nodded to Vicki and Tipper in turn, and they separated their people out of the crowd without hesitation, even though they didn’t know what was going on. Finally the small blonde girl in her pretty blue dress asked a single question to the room.
“Is anyone here particularly sensitive to arsenic? I don’t mean in the normal fashion, but as something far faster or more threatening? Perhaps lethally so?” Her tone was matter of fact, calm and civil, but her blue eyes searched the space as if waiting for someone to jump up and start trying to kill them all.
It was a good point. Killers might just not like being questioned in a situation like this one.
No one did anything though. In fact after a few seconds of looking at each other, baffled, a group of people that had gotten themselves kind of stuffed into the far corner away from the door started muttering a little. Random noises at first, but finally a woman that looked about forty or so stepped forward.
“Comtrices are all allergic to it. A full histamine reaction, potentially lethal. It doesn’t come up that much, living in human areas. They’re pretty good about keeping a tight rein on it. Why? I mean, if we’re allowed to ask.” The woman furrowed her brow hard, it wasn’t attractive on her, making her average face look a bit rough. Hard.
That worked with the day so far, Jake decided.
Sammi didn’t say anything, so he did, trying to sound as calm as the small girl had.
“Someone dumped arsenic into the cider. Enough so I noticed it tasted different, which probably means a lot of it, given the size of the pot it’s being made in. We’re just trying to figure out who might have done that and why. It was in my cup, so it could, maybe, be someone trying to get me, but if it was also in the pot of the stuff, which everyone would be drinking out of… Kind of nonspecific if it’s targeted toward one person.”
Jake looked at the people, one of the Comtrice men suddenly holding a firearm, ready to fight, by the look he was casting around the room. He raised an eyebrow at the man but didn’t respond with his own weapon. Not yet. It was too close, too packed with bodies, to start fighting if it wasn’t needed. He just went on with what he was saying, trying to sound like he knew what to do about the whole thing.
“Unless someone was very sensitive to it. So, right now, I’d have to wager that whoever did it was going after your people? Any guess as to why?” It seemed like what someone should ask, so he did. No one in that group had an answer.
Darian spoke into the silence, his voice awfully smooth considering everything.
“It shouldn’t be that hard to simply track the scent. Unless whomever used it was incredibly clever at least. Perhaps Robert could do it?” He looked at the younger man who gave a single sharp nod and turned as if to walk away. His hard black boots didn’t get three feet before someone made a violent sounding growl. Another newcomer. This one a dark skinned woman. She was dressed in a robe, a nice cream thing with gold edging, that would have looked very proper on the pope. She wasn’t very tall and didn’t look like an animal, but her voice got attention fast, that was for certain. It was so deep it nearly rumbled in Jake’s chest.
“This could as easily be a Bawdri plot. Should we trust that your man won’t simply make a false claim? Why not send others as well? Five noses would be less easily fooled or corrupted than one.” Whatever she reall
y was, she crossed her arms just like an angry woman, and looked upset enough that Jake had a flashback of his mother.
She used to do that to him sometimes, when he was hiding from the world and not working at anything in particular.
From the nods all around it was clear a good quarter of the people present felt that way, even as Darian stiffened as if highly insulted. He was good at that, taking offense at almost everything that didn’t go his way. You’d think someone that old would have learned better, but apparently thousands of years had just taught him that he should have his own way most of the time. It might even be true, as far as day to day things went, on things like when to carry an umbrella or who to get to take care of your pet while you were on vacation, but in a mixed group of people that felt entitled to be just as important as he did, it didn’t work very well at all.
Jake felt like sighing.
It was pretty clear that a fight was about to happen and that people would be throwing accusations around shortly if nothing was done. The thing there was that he, one of the youngest people in the wash area, probably shouldn’t be the one pointing out that it would work better if they went in a logical and cooperative fashion.
He rolled his eyes and huffed, which got a lot more attention that such a move normally would. It really was like these people were taking the whole Very Good Man thing seriously. It was nearly funny.
“Seriously folks… This is a Christmas party, which means we should be reflecting on family, friends, and possibly getting drunk and sneaking off to hide in closets for illicit sex with people we shouldn’t. Not fighting or arguing like this. Not until after dinner at least.” He held a happy tone in his voice, but no one got what he was saying he didn’t think.
“Which makes no sense to most of you… OK. Fair enough. So here’s what were going to do.” Jake waved to Darian and Yalla, then the others he thought might be group leaders or something of the sort. He probably got some of them wrong, but everyone he signaled came over anyway. It was odd that they just kept doing what he suggested like that. Creepy. They didn’t even frown overly when he said stupid things.
“OK, I’d like you and your guards to protect the Comtrices personally. Especially the Grand Comtrice. I like her, and if anything happens to her I’ll take it personally.” Since all he could do to any of these people involved shooting them, it wasn’t a small threat, though they all seemed to ignore that part, nodding in agreement. Tense, but not displeased with the idea at all.
“For the investigation, well, let’s have the youngest person from each group look into it? They’re the ones least likely to be in on some kind of plan after all and if they all go at once it might just keep everything safe.” He looked at them all and then nodded to Sammi.
“If you could check out the food first? I’m getting hungry and I’m sure everyone else is too. We kind of skipped lunch today.”
He gestured to the loosely spread out group of single delegates and smiled again.
“If you’d all pick one person to go with the rest? Then I think we should all go inside and tell stories, listen to that book reading that was promised and maybe watch the kids get presents. It’s really more traditional to do that first thing in the morning, but…” Jake felt really embarrassed about this next part, still, it would be better to tell them now so that no one had their feelings hurt later.
“Well, we have some gifts for some of you, but we didn’t know to arrange for so many and…”
It was Morris the leader of the Teleporters who spoke then, sounding nearly cheerful, having recovered from his poor showing at zombie killing. That made sense, his people didn’t really fight, not well. They were innately designed to flee confrontation and it made a difference in how they did everything. That he’d stood his ground while shamblers had come at him probably showed he had nerves of steel for one of his people. Jake looked at him as the man grinned.
“You didn’t know to arrange for so many gate crashers all at once? Don’t let it concern you, it’s an honor just to be here, Ba-Dehist. Not everyone knows this kind of celebration anyway, so they wouldn’t really know what to expect. Plus this is different than normal already, lacking the famous Rudolph Christmas special, or a midnight mass.”
Lamont smiled then too, as if someone hadn’t tried to kill off a part of their dinner group already.
“Show off. He actually raided a library and spent days looking up Christmas traditions from around the world for this.”
They both laughed then as if it was funny, so Jake smiled, kind of wishing he could just run off to his own house and sleep for a while. A few days maybe? That wasn’t to be so he forced himself to stand straighter and take a deep breath.
“So, Sammi? Could you get with Cam and the youngest of our people, Darla too I think, and see to the investigation?”
She nodded but a few people looked very distrusting of the situation again. Jake raised an eyebrow, but at least Lamont explained it to him so he didn’t have to guess.
“A Bawdri in charge again.” Even the old man sounded put off by the idea.
“Oh, well, I have complete faith in this one. Cam too. I can’t really make anyone else see it, but they won’t mislead anyone. If it makes anyone feel better we can put Cam in charge?” He shrugged, ready for an argument.
Ready to shoot someone if they got too loud.
No one said anything after that though, and Darian actually gave a small smile, as if he smelled something bad and wanted to hide the fact. It was about the worst thing he could have done, and Jake was pretty sure he knew it too. At his age you probably didn’t let things like that just happen. He was trying to start something.
“It was probably the… Teleport girl that did it in the first place. Those scalli…” the man stopped talking suddenly.
Jake looked at his hand, which ached horribly, but was holding his nine anyway, not pointing it yet, but out. He hadn’t been aware that he was even going for it. No one else moved for a bit, not even to gasp. After ten seconds or so he put it away and sighed loudly.
“Cam didn’t do it. Morris’s people didn’t do it. The Bawdri didn’t either. If the Teleporters wanted us dead, we would be, and it wouldn’t be done at a party with everyone else around to check on them. They can go anywhere and have resources the rest of us only wish we could get at right now. If the Bawdri did it, they’d probably have used a more accurate weapon and targeted people in a way that couldn’t be noticed by someone like me. I don’t have super senses or anything. That I got the idea the cider might have something in it was pure paranoia, nothing else.” He pinned Darian with a solid look, one that felt too tired to be a glare though.
“But seriously, if you try to start a shouting match to get someone killed for yelling, I’ll shoot you first. It’s an old rule here. I put it in place because someone else had caught on to that idea already. Right now doing that could literally have a small hoard descend on us if that happens though. I’m half amazed Robert didn’t call you on it, to tell the truth.” He held up his right hand and waved it a bit trying to keep anyone from speaking. “Don’t claim that wasn’t your plan either. We don’t have time for that kind of bullshit anymore Darian. This isn’t about you becoming leader of the world, or whatever you think it is. It’s about surviving the day, and getting everyone else here through it too. That means working together, even letting go of old grudges and prejudices.” The old man went stiff again, and so did the rest of his group.
Jake waved at them again.
“That. Right there. You feel insulted, so you start to react, instead of taking time to realize that this isn’t about you. Or me. Or anyone here. This is pretty much the end of the world. It’s certainly the end of the old one. What we had isn’t coming back, and if we want to go forward, we need to do it together.
"You want some grand and wise message from 'The Very Good Man'? Fine, here it is then. Stop acting like this is a game, or television program, and start working together as a team. If you fight with each o
ther, then the world probably dies. If you trust each other, truly and blindly trust, then we stand a small chance. That’s all I have for you. You don’t need some figurehead to lead you or give you hope, you just need to remember not to be jerks to the people that can help you most.”
He sighed again, this time just fighting for air, feeling like he couldn’t get enough. He was nearly in tears, which made him feel weak, but what else could he do? He stood and waited for everyone to act then. Probably to start fighting with him. If so he was shooting people. The quarters were tight for it, but if they pushed it he wasn’t slugging it out with this crowd.
Even the Telepaths were pretty much unbeatable in a fight, since they could read his intent. He didn’t know that for certain, but it made sense.
Shrugging, a muscular man from the back of the room worked his way forward, one of the people that was in a larger group of similar beings, ones Jake didn’t recognize by name yet. Good looking enough men and women, muscular and prone to glaring, but kind of quiet for all that.
He looked around and then just started washing, mimicking what Jake had done earlier almost completely. Like a ritual. As he finished he spoke softly in a strange accent that Jake didn’t get at all at first. It was nearly Chinese, though the man was obviously Caucasian.
“This water carries away my hate. My rage. The hurts of old. I wash in the water, and become a new me. A better person. As I step away, my intent is pure and I proclaim all here my friend.” He shook the water off and held his hands up, back still to the room.