by P. S. Power
“Blow that, and I’ll shoot you. I don’t know if you can survive a head shot, but I promise, it won’t just be the one. We need to get back now. It’s time for pie.” Right now that would be good, since he really liked pumpkin pie. He just hoped that the ichor under the fingernails of the zombie was solid and that the blood had carried it away, rather than infecting him. What the odds of that were he didn’t know. Anywhere from decent to so bad he should put a bullet in his head right there. It wasn’t a bite though, and scratches, even bad ones didn’t always turn. They mainly didn’t turn, he reminded himself, trying not to get too down about the idea. It stung, but hey, scratches did.
The girl was probably glaring at him, but screw it. He couldn’t see her looking, and he’d probably die a virgin now because of her stunt. Well, so be it. It was what had to happen anyway, most likely. If nice guys finished last, The Very Good ones were probably screwed from the start, weren’t they?
He started walking, not knowing if the girl was going to follow him or not. He really didn’t care, not even looking over his shoulder. He did stop at the table and get the cream though. He might be dead, but there was time for pie. He carried the whole thing left handed, in case he had to shoot. The girl was there at least, still shadowed in the night, her face shrouded. Not that it mattered much.
In the kitchen the electric lights were just going on, in the living room too, that meant that several people saw him as he walked in. At first they didn’t react at all, because it wasn’t the first time that he’d gone out and fought something at night, was it? He’d even come back bleeding a few times. Lois grabbed him a bowl with some water in it and Sammi looked at the wound, then at the girl with him.
“Did you attack him?” The voice was low, angry and sounded ready to fight if that actually was the case, but it made Jake chuckle.
“Nope, nothing so innocent. Zombie. Scratch, but nice and deep. I’ll need to go into quarantine. After we deal with the remains of the party though, and get Becky cleared.” Jake didn’t wince when the damp rag Lois had got pressed to the wounds. It wouldn’t help anything and just make her feel bad about causing him pain. It had to be cleaned, just in case he wasn’t infected. Bacteria could still kill him, if he wasn’t careful. He'd seen that a couple of times, early on. People would get sick, try to hide it and then keel over from a perfectly normal infection that could have been treated with some bread mold and a good scrubbing out.
In the light Jake could see that the girl next to him was pretty young, maybe seventeen or so. Taller than he was, but with her looks he was going to guess she was a Val. One destined for an early grave, and worse, a slow promotion track, if she kept pulling crazy stunts like she just had. Quietly, Jake mentioned that part of things. After all, it might be worth learning, right? Most Val’s seemed pretty into having a fast promotion track.
She didn’t speak or do anything but stand and stare, then tried to go outside again. Jake grabbed her, she didn’t hit him, but she did try to pull away, finally pushing him so hard he flew backwards into the wall beside the back door on the right with a thud.
Darned super strength anyway.
He kicked her in the stomach bracing his back against the wall even as the air left his lungs. He wasn’t really certain if the Valkyries didn’t feel pain, or if they were just all totally stoic in a fight, but the girl didn’t say anything as she moved back, not even making a “woof” sound. Other than the motion of her body Jake might not have been able to tell he’d done anything at all. He rushed her again, and managed to take her to the floor while she was off balance. She threw him off so easily he wondered why he’d bothered in the first place. Then, he didn’t know how to wrestle really. It had always seemed a bit of a waste of time.
The girl got up and just started walking toward the door. Sighing, he jumped back in, wondering when she was going to start just kicking his butt for real, instead of just doing it accidently. She didn’t seem right though. It was like her mind wasn’t really there or something. Just letting her go out might be a bad plan, if she was sick… or suicidal for some reason.
Finally on round three of him trying to tackle her and her sending him flying away in a fairly controlled fashion, a half dozen other women ran into the kitchen and started grabbing the girl. It all took place without any yelling at least, which showed good discipline. He wasn’t wild about the impromptu zombie kickboxing league match, or the kitchen wrestling, but no real harm done, as long as they all kept the human noise down.
Unless he was turning into a zombie.
Right, he’d almost forgotten that part. Oh well. Everyone died sometime.
“Pie.” He said simply. “I’d like some of the pumpkin with whipped topping please, if a piece can be saved?”
Smiling, Lois gave him a nod.
“Certainly. Are you going somewhere?” Her voice was calm, almost a little dreamy. If he didn’t know that they didn’t have any drugs, he’d have thought she’d started a heroin habit. It was freaky, and probably meant her mind had gone. Or was going at least.
Not that he blamed her there. His was too, most likely, and really, Lois was being more pleasant about it.
“Just the next room, so that we can wrap everything up. We haven’t even done presents yet. If I were one of the kids I’d be ticked about now. Burt and Cam have that ready, right?”
They had a whole show set up, which sounded really magical. Sammi went to get them going on it, which took about ten minutes. They both appeared next to the tree as everyone watched, just suddenly being there, a bright electric light on them, bells tinkling. Cam was shaking them, a little string of them with what looked like six silver colored bells. Her other hand was on Burt’s arm. Or rather Santa’s. It was a great effect. None of the kids yelled or squealed, but they clapped excitedly. Even the older people did.
“Ho, ho, ho.” Santa Burt intoned softly, his beard a bit gray, rather than pure white, but nearly the right size and shape. His outfit was fantastic. More Father Christmas in a white fur trimmed cap and robe, with red and green velvet, making the whole thing look pretty sharp, and more, real. Then, appearing out of the air with a girl elf on your arm lent a bit of credibility. Really…
Given everything, that pretty much made him Santa for real, didn’t it?
Jake clapped a bit too, it was freaking fantastic. Almost enough to make the rest of the day worthwhile. Then it got better, when Burt pulled around the red velvet sack he had on the floor next to him. OK, sure, it had already been there, but the thing was huge.
The first present got pulled, and the tag read carefully.
“Christy?” It got handed over, it turned out to be one of the Jake hating squad of teen girls. Cam’s friends though, so maybe they weren’t all that bad? The presents all went out quickly and while not everyone got one with their name on it, most people did. Jake didn’t, and Cam didn’t either, because they’d gotten them all and had agreed it seemed phony to get them for themselves. Besides, she’d assured him that if they really wanted anything, it could be gotten, as long as he went with her for protection. They weren’t properly wrapped in paper, but still looked pretty special, mostly wrapped in pieces of fabric, ends and bits, or if they were too big, just with a real ribbon bow on them.
Some things, puzzles and board games had that. A few books too.
The year before the kids, and even some of the adults, would have been sad, only getting a single gift like this, but now everyone acted like it was… well, Christmas. A few even cried, but with smiles on their faces. A couple more just looked sad. Jake got that. Everyone he’d known from Back Before was gone too, except him.
And Colleen.
But just seeing her now was making him sad. It was probably stupid of him, but he was kind of happy that he was probably going to die. He really didn’t want to be the one to tell her about what had happened to Rachel. If she hadn’t heard about what he’d done to Derrick, well… For all he knew she was Holsom’s personal friend, or had been. Maybe e
ven his lover, if Derrick was into that before things started to turn into the land of the dead. If so he’d really rather not know.
He was still so glad the man was dead.
If he did turn, maybe these others could protect his people? The ones at the House and the ladies from his? He’d have to ask. Jake had given his bit of advice, which probably discharged his duties as The Very Good Man, right? Now they just had to work together. OK, it wasn’t some miracle or brilliant insight, but they hadn’t really been getting it before, maybe now they would?
So it was as good a time and place to die as any. For him at least. The thought left him feeling peaceful. Calm and collected for the time being. It would be nice to rest. Just be in nothingness and not have any worries or concerns.
After that everyone started going off to bed that could. He had to go into quarantine after they dealt with the Becky matter. Which, once started, only took about five minutes. Lamont and three of his people did the work on that. It was done professionally and with only a few questions asked to get her to think about the right things. The old man shrugged at him.
“She’s clear. She really doesn’t know anything at all. Probably touched something with some arsenic sprinkled on it, just to throw the noses off. We’ve all been reading people all night, but getting very little. None of the children did it. Half of the people here have been going into dissociative states off and on all night, pretty well keeping the thinking down. It makes it hard to really get a good sense of what someone is thinking. Too many traumatized people here.” The elder Telepath spread his hands and looked around, but then just shook his head.
“The trouble there is that we can’t really tell if a person is just not thinking to save themselves pain and not trigger unpleasant memories, or if it’s an attempt to block us out. We could force our way in, but this is an awful lot of people for that. It would take far too long. We might take a crack at it, if the numbers could be gotten down by about, oh, a hundred and ninety?” He looked around the room in the bright light.
It wasn’t as bright as daylight through a window on a sunny day, but the electric lights, an LED array that Burt had put together on a long track, since that took less energy to run, definitely made the room bright enough to read in. Compared to candle light it was brilliant and shiny. Jake would have liked it if they could have done that every night, and it would be possible, eventually, when they got more batteries to charge and another wind generator going. Jake figured they should push and get a half dozen up at once or so, if they could. That wouldn’t give them constant power maybe, not for so many people, but it would make a vast difference to their quality of life.
The would be zombie suicide girl and the other Vals that had come for her hadn’t come out of the kitchen yet. There was no more thumping around and the back door hadn’t opened as far as he could tell, so they were probably discussing things. Jake was curious as to what the heck she’d been thinking, but decided to just let it go. He could ask Vickie, later. In five days or so.
Or not.
He made himself grin and shook his head to himself. It wouldn’t pay to get down about something like impending death, especially when there was a much better than even chance that a scratch in the cold like that wouldn’t turn him. The rate in the summer heat had been what… thirty percent from a scratch? It was why they’d come up with quarantine in the first place, even though it meant having to kill the person a third of the time. Or stopping them at least.
No one had turned since the zombies froze solid though. He hadn’t thought about it, but if it took some kind of liquid transfer, then that might be why no one had turned. Except…
Carley had incorporated the zombie stuff from her bite, hadn’t she? Jake would need to clarify that with her. It might just be that no one would turn for a bit, even if attacked. He’d mention it, just in case. He didn’t want to eat his gun just to have it turn out that right now a nibble was just a nibble in the freeze of winter. Right?
After Becky was cleared, Darian wanted to turn the place upside down, looking for clues, and demanded that everyone be read by the Telepaths until they were proved innocent or found guilty.
“After we all leave, it just becomes harder to deal with. At a guess whoever did this was brought in by us today, rather than someone already here. That isn’t certain of course, but clearing everyone we can would make a huge difference.”
Jake yawned and nodded. It was sensible, but Lamont had pretty much just established that they wouldn’t be doing that. Too many broken minds around for that to work. It was like Darian, as smart as he was, just hadn’t heard that part of things. Or didn’t believe that anyone else might have limitations.
That, or he didn’t care.
He was kind of the king of his people though, so maybe he just really expected to get his way, even when it wasn’t all that reasonable? Jake smiled and shook his head, going over what was said again.
“So, what we should do, without disturbing the people sleeping if we can, is get the people with extra senses, or abilities to do their thing and find all the data we can, and let Lamont’s people clear everyone that they can manage easily, before they leave.” Jake yawned again and covered his mouth.
“Sorry, sleepy. OK, so that leaves a large list of suspects, but it’s a start getting things done, right?”
Darian stared at him, like he was being a moron, but nodded, his mouth wrinkling into clear disgust for some reason. No wonder so many people had a problem with the Bawdri, if he kept doing things like that all the time. It felt demeaning, like a judgment was being passed and that Jake was being found wanting. If it wasn’t on purpose… Well, that could explain a lot of problems. What if it was a cultural thing? A face that just meant he was considering something, rather than wanted to squish the peon in front of him?
If that was the case, then Jake needed to try and cut the guy a little slack.
It was Sammi that spoke next, looking at him tentatively, “let’s start there then. We don’t have modern forensic facilities, but if we work together, as Jake has suggested, we might get to the bottom of this, or at least find something to send us in the right direction?”
A low chuckle came from the side as Morris, the Teleporter, stepped forward.
“I’ll go first then? Then the rest of my people?” He didn’t give a reason why, but half the room nodded as if that just made sense.
Jake didn’t see it really, except for the fact that a lot of people seemed to be prejudiced against that particular group for some reason. Probably because they largely made their way in the world by stealing from other people. It had been their cultural tradition for a long time, Cam had said. It made great sense. They couldn’t be caught for the most part, and if they were even a little bit careful they wouldn’t even be seen doing it. You’d look away and boom, your things would just be gone, with no sign as to why.
Like all those socks that never made it out of the dryer. For a half second Jake wondered if there was a connection…
It took minutes to clear that group.
Except Cam. When she went up to Lamont for her turn three of the telepaths worked on her, conferred and asked questions for about ten minutes before Lamont shook his head, causing most of the room to go on alert. The old man held out his right hand.
“Easy now. She’s probably innocent, we just can’t read everything clearly. She’s… been through a lot. That doesn’t mean guilt, it just means that this is making her a little nervous and she’s freezing up in panic mentally. I warned you all about that.” He looked at Jake, who took it as a sign to step forward for his own turn.
Lamont looked scared then. Since everyone else seemed pissed, Jake could see that, he just didn’t get why. Nate made a face and walked over to him, then placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder.
“I hadn’t mentioned it, but really Jake, when you don’t project thoughts on purpose, you don’t put out much of anything. Like Cam, only worse. We can’t hear you at all most of the time. On the
good side, no one here thinks you’re guilty.” He said it as if it were only pure truth.
It was, but that was true of everyone else in the room too, wasn’t it? No one suspected anyone in particular. Not with anything approaching a good reason for it at any rate.
Jake nodded though.
“Fine, so the people with super senses can give me a once over? Though I drank some arsenic, so I might smell like it.” Jake grinned. “Now if that isn’t a clever excuse, I don’t know what is. Definitely on the suspect list then. Well, I protest that I’m innocent. Sigh. So will everyone else though.” He held out his arm to Sammi who smelled it and looked down, eyes shining a strange reflective green, even though it wasn’t that dark. She had some control over that though, Jake thought. She could pretend to be normal, when she wanted. Regular, like he was. She was normal for her people, no doubt.
She spoke softly.
“Arsenic… and zombie. I can’t tell if it’s just on you or if it’s in the blood yet. It’s very faint. I don’t know what happened.” She went silent as everyone looked at her.
Puffing his cheeks out Jake gave a blow by blow of the little scrape he and that Val girl had gotten into out in the cornfield.
“So we were pretty close to each other for a bit. I don’t know if it’s that either though, if the contact is what the scents from or if I’m in the early stages of infection, so into quarantine for me, after I get some pie. I won’t be turning in the next few hours at any rate. It generally takes days. So, next?” He looked around and then waved Nate forward. He was in charge after all, so he should definitely be near the beginning.
He could be read by the other telepaths without a problem, so that took about three minutes, then Sammi went. For all she’d been through, her mind was healthy enough at least, so that worked. It didn’t for everyone though. Odina North, Yalla, was so worked up, Lamont informed them, that they weren’t getting anything from her at all.