Dead End Stories From the End of the World

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Dead End Stories From the End of the World Page 82

by P. S. Power


  None of that made a difference now though, he realized, though he’d need to chat with Sammi, sometime soon about it. He was about done with the game. It was time to find someone else to play the part.

  “Um, really…” He spoke to the blackness, the fire popping as he fell silent.

  “I agree with Darian this time. For all we know, Alyssian, you might just shake this on your own in a few days, like a cold.” He smiled. “OK, you don’t get those, but that just kind of proves the point, right? And, I don’t know, maybe blood transfusions from other Bawdri with your blood type might help? You still have your mind, so it’s a little too soon to just give up.” He shrugged, not knowing if anyone was even listening, much less looking at him. “Besides, if it gets too bad, if you really can’t take it, if nothing works, I’ll get you a gun and you can end it. Or I’ll come… and do it for you, if needed. I don’t want you to suffer, but I don’t think you should just give up either. Not yet. Not while there’s still hope.” Not until they knew nothing they tried would work.

  Suddenly there was a clap from Darian’s position, and a sigh from the man in the corner. The others were either silent or didn’t make enough noise to register for him. It was the old but still young looking leader that spoke, reminding Jake of the dad from every fifties television program ever.

  “That’s what we’ll do then. We can’t argue with The Very Good Man, after all. Robert, we need transport back to the Lake. Can we call that in from here?”

  “No. Communications are still down here. We might be able to use the short wave radio at Jake’s other house. They haven’t been using that much yet, but they have the capacity.” Robert just sounded factual, rather than put out about the idea. They didn’t have a radio or anything to call out there, so to his mind it meant something else had to be arranged.

  Blowing his cheeks out, Jake rolled his eyes. He got it, sure. They didn’t like or trust the Teleporters at all. More, they didn’t expect them to step up and help out, even in a situation like this. Not without bribes or threats. Seriously though, that had to end. He shook his head.

  “Morris has people standing by, ready to help. This is too important to play games with Darian, or forget that new friends are friends too. I’ll get that together. Morten knows the way, right?” Not waiting for an answer, Jake turned and walked back the other way, right hand trailing along the wall, so that he wouldn’t trip and fall.

  He really missed electric lights. Even a good oil lamp would be a treat. He’d have to see about that. Burnable liquid and a reflector of some kind behind the flame? That or maybe see if someone else, one of the other groups, would trade for something like that? Maybe he could make some things on the forge someone wanted. Knives or something? He’d have to get on that, just as soon as possible.

  Morten had the four Bawdri that needed to go to the Lake taken away, after Jake made Alyssian promise not to bite anyone, just in case that would make a difference to her. If she believed in Jake, that might make it easier for her to resist doing things she didn’t want to. On the good side, the Bawdri around her probably wouldn’t turn just from a bite, not even from a zombie Bawdri. They were just too tough for that, most likely. The older Princess gave her word though, and that satisfied Mort enough that he was willing to hold her hand directly, even though the others were obviously nervous about the idea. That could have been for any reason though, from fear that she’d take a bite of a tasty teleport snack anyway, to not wanting the filthy “Skalliwaga” touching her.

  Or just possibly, nerves.

  After all, he’d just handed them a line of bull… and they all had to know it. No one had ever just gotten better, once turned. Blood transfusions? That was just the only thing he could think up on the fly that sounded at all plausible. The woman was dead and not coming back. If she could control herself however, she might be able to have some kind of a life, at least for long enough to get her affairs in order first, before ending it all, which was a lot more than most people got.

  It was a relief when she was gone. Not because he feared her. He did, but he was afraid of everything now, practically. No, it was just that he didn’t want anyone to figure out that he was living a lie. Not until they’d gotten all they could out of it at least.

  No one was in the bathroom, but the fire had been tended under the water heater, so he could have a warm bath. He didn’t fill the tub all the way, a great lion clawed thing which could hold a lot of water, because someone else might want a bath too. It took time to get used to the heat, lowering himself in slowly, his skin on fire from the water, until he finally went numb to it. He scrubbed solidly, trying to take off the top layers of skin, knowing even that wouldn’t let him feel truly clean anymore. The grime was in his soul now. Washing would never be enough to make him clean. Then he sank back, wondering what would really happen if he just put his head under the water and took a deep breath? He’d drown, sure… but would the world really stop? Or would people eventually realize they needed to work together and get it all done on their own?

  It was a moot point.

  If he killed himself it would be a gun in the mouth, not drowning. That would just suck, choking slowly as his lungs burned. Things like death needed to be planned out, if you got a chance. If only to make sure you didn’t mess it up. He sank down in the water, the sound almost masking the door opening, then closing again. It was so dark that nothing could really be seen. Not with his eyes at least. There was a window, but the light from outside didn’t mean much, even with the snow reflecting the stars and quarter moon. It was cloudy, so those didn’t count for much of anything that night. He should have brought a candle with him, but hadn’t thought about it, to tell the truth.

  He could hear the breathing, not too high from the tile floor. So someone not overly tall. Colleen or Sammi then?

  “Do you want the tub?” He was kind of hogging it, or they might need the toilet. They only had the one working bathroom. If so, whoever it was had better let him get out of there first. Otherwise it would just be kind of gross.

  Sammi just sighed.

  “No, just thought I’d come see if you wanted your back scrubbed? I…” There was a soft sob, but only one, cut off sharply.

  “Jake, I need to tell you something…” She sounded scared, and not just a little.

  He nodded, sitting up a bit. It was time then? The moment had come for her to admit that he was just… Him? Jake was all right with it and waited for the words, but the woman didn’t speak for a long time, hesitating.

  After a bit he smiled and shook his head slowly.

  “Is it that I’m not The Very Good Man at the end of the world and this whole thing was something you cooked up with the Grand Comtrice and Lamont to give people hope? I can kind of see the reason for it. I’m… not mad. A bit sick of it already, but I get that it seems effective. Kind of wish you’d picked someone else though. There almost had to be someone better for the job, don’t you think?” Oddly he felt so relieved about it coming out that he smiled, and his voice sounded friendly about the whole thing. At least the pretense could be over. Right?

  There was silence then, for a long time, finally a gentle laugh came, one that sounded pleased, for some reason. Happier than he would have expected given the whole thing with her mom. Maybe being old enough did that to you? Let you compartmentalize different parts of your life? That or come to terms with loss so many times that it just didn’t have the same impact on you as it did younger people.

  “Oh, no. Not that one at all. I wasn’t going to even mention that, because when I suggested the idea to Lamont he laughed at me... and informed me that we didn’t have to fake it at all. No, that’s real. I can feel that you organize toward goodness and what’s really needed, but I didn’t know for certain you were the one. We needed something to cling to though, so I was going to fake it, at first. The Grand Comtrice nearly passed out when she touched your hand, do you know that? There’s power in goodness that most people never realize. Greater strength
than we ever bother to imagine, because most people just aren’t that good. Not really. That’s all kinds of people. Even the kind and gentle people are generally flawed underneath. They aren’t truly that good, they just seem like it, out of habit or self protection. Not that I’m knocking that. Much nicer to be around friendly people, but it’s a different thing altogether.”

  “And I’m not flawed?” His voice was cheery enough sounding he though. Sammi took a step forward, then two, until she stood right next to the tub.

  Her voice still held a chuckle for some reason, one that sounded a little forced.

  “Broken as a puzzle dashed to the floor, Jake. I’m surprised each time I see you, that you haven’t killed yourself, or gotten yourself killed, trying to fix the mess around you, or escape from it. I didn’t think any of your type would have lasted this long. Not in this world.”

  He grinned at where he thought her face was, and probably missed looking at her by half a foot, but that wasn’t his fault, was it?

  “Really? Then why didn’t the Grand Comtrice have to bleed on me for her test? Why wasn’t her reaction to reading me like Cisco’s was to reading Becky?” It was kind of telling, wasn’t it? The two things hardly seemed related at all.

  It got a gentle chuckle at least, a slightly more real one.

  “Jake… she did bleed, you just didn’t notice it, because she was trying to not be off putting and only used a drop from her palm. They only need a tiny bit of blood for something like that. Cisco is just a bit overly dramatic that way, I fear. That’s only one test though. Others have their own, and you’ve passed them all, without even noticing them. I don’t think you realize the effect you actually have on the world around you. Even some of the most negative reactions you’ve elicited are simply due to people not being able to understand what you are.” There was breathing then, but otherwise nothing much else from Sammi.

  He thought about the whole thing for a while and decided to just go with it. Yes, she could be lying to him, but why? He’d have gone along with it anyway, if it was the best way they had to get everyone on the same page. She had to know that right?

  “Hey, um, Sammi?”

  “Yes Jake?”

  “You’re looking at me naked in the water, aren’t you?”

  “Oh… Yes. I can wash you, if you want? One of the traditional services A Very Good Man gets you know. Don’t want to buck tradition, now do we?” She started leaning toward him and he felt a hand hit his stomach, fingers running… down.

  He grabbed a little wildly, laughing.

  “Um, no, Sam. I know it’s not fair, but you just look too young. I can’t move past that yet. I…” He shrugged. “What did you want to tell me? If it’s that I need to bathe more, well, working on that.”

  “No,” her tone had gone dark again, somber. “It’s that my mother, she got me alone and told me something. About the Teleporter that took her? She lied. The whole thing was exactly like what Morris’s people do, every time. A man, clearly, if that might help narrow the field down. She’s afraid that if Darian finds out he’ll declare a war against a whole people, for actions that might belong to one individual alone. Alyssian feels you need to know however, so that you can act with knowledge and not go into this blind.”

  The woman was dead, traumatized, and in constant agony, but she tried to protect a group of people that her kind has no great love for anyway. It was a better thing than he’d ever done. Stronger.

  “Ok. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that. I’ll get with the others and start a conspiracy to hide things from Darian then, I guess, while we investigate who’s behind all this? I’m thinking Yalla and Morris for it. Lamont… He can be trusted?”

  She agreed that he could and sat on the edge of the tub, her hand trailing in the water a bit, making ripples that caused a stirring at his groin. On purpose.

  Witch.

  “Stop that.” He said, sounding a lot less playful than he meant to be. “We have real work to do, it’s not time to try and cause me to have a total mental breakdown, worried that even being attracted to you is morally wrong.”

  She laughed again, a low chuckle.

  “It’s not. I’m older than you, and not even a virgin. A little makeup and I can look older than Cam, but you do have a point, it’s rude of me to tease you like this. To answer your question, Lemont is trustworthy. Morris too. I’m positive of both. Yalla is solid. There are a couple of other leaders you might want to bring in on this. I’ll take care of that part, if you want?”

  They made some plans, Jake swatted her hands a few times for trying to get familiar, and then he got her to leave so he could dress for sleep. Clean clothes, but a full outfit, ready to go outside and fight if he had too, including boots. When he walked out, he found that everyone else was already starting to get to bed. Most of the Vals on the floor of the kitchen. They didn’t need much sleep, but could rest and generally stand guard all night, in case an attack came.

  Vickie was in bed when he got there, but she wouldn’t do anything much with a bunch of people in the room, he knew. It was nice to have someone near, but frustrating too. She held him, but that just meant he didn’t sleep all that well.

  At first light he got up and started making something to eat. Steak and beef broth. It wasn’t varied, but it was better than starving. He had salt at least.

  Otherwise it would really suck.

  No one complained about the food, and after about half an hour Jill and Billi came in to serve it, sharing it around evenly. They had plenty, but needed to wait for it all to cook, being able to make food for seven people at once with the limited stove space. They had nineteen. It took a bit.

  Cam stuck her tongue out, not at anyone, but at some internal thought or idea. She noticed that Jake was watching her and blushed, a nice bright red to go with her hair. She was wearing her normal jeans and a t-shirt, but pulled a baby blue sweatshirt on over the whole thing, and then got her boots on, ready to go out into the world. Then she got a jacket and looked out the window. Jake did too then, moving in beside her behind the little four person table. The older of the women, the first ones that lived there just sat, looking a bit nervous about it, as everyone else held cups and bits of meat in their fingers. He only had plates for six. He’d need to get another set of dishware. Or four. At least if people were going to keep showing up to visit like this.

  More food too. Maybe he could catch more meat and trade for something with a little more variety? He mentioned it as he watched the snow fall outside. It was a heavy and thick curtain of white. Pretty, but not very much fun to go hunting cannibals in.

  He heard a soft gasp from the table, but not the floor, and turned just in time to find Morten trying not to fall off of one of the girls on the ground into the woodstove. To her credit whoever she was, she grabbed him and held on without making a sound, even as he waved his arms and stood on her legs, finally overbalancing him into the center of the room instead.

  “Thanks. I hate it when I catch on fire.” Mort smiled at the girl and straightened his black clothing, which would look a little obvious out in the forest.

  Jake mentioned that, and suggested they dig up some white for him, if he was going with them. For both of them.

  The man just smiled and shook his head.

  “Sorry, no can do, Ba-Dehist. We have teams of fighters and warriors incoming for that. We, meaning you and I, are due in half a dozen locations over the next eight hours, for meetings. Cam is staying, in case of an emergency today, but at the House, because putting her out to fight dangerous insane people makes no sense at all.” He gestured to the women arrayed on the floor still.

  “These ladies and the nearly two hundred other incredibly strong, fast, or damage proof individuals coming will suffice, I think. Your precog told me that there are only a dozen or so cannibals in your forest anyway. For now at least. Fast and strong, but no match for our people. We definitely don’t need a regular human out there with them, getting in the way.�


  He looked ready to fight about it, but before Jake could try so much as a cogent argument half the room started to agree with the plan.

  Well, that made a fellow feel needed didn’t it? He wasn’t even good enough to go and shoot at some people? It must have showed on his face, because Vickie smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder as he stood in front of the window, having to squeeze behind George to do it.

  “I think that’s secret Teleport speech for 'are you crazy Ba-Dehist?' rather than anyone here doubting that you can handle yourself. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the meetings you have, I’d take you in a heartbeat. Out of everyone in the room you have the most actual combat experience. I might tie up with you, but I’m not really sure, and if we count the last nine months only, I know I don’t for a fact. These others don’t get what that means, Jake. Not yet. Experience matters though. I’m taking my team in with me for this. Molly’s too, if they’ll go…” the Val section leader, or whatever she was sighed, looking at the overly polite and controlled faces of her current troops.

  “Oh stop that girls. Jake is a VGM and 'just' a human, but if you really think any of you can take him in a fight, I suggest you attack now, without warning. When we clean up your body it will serve as a lesson to the others not to underestimate those around them.” Shaking her head she sighed.

  Pointing she indicated a large looking brunette on the floor.

  “You all just don’t see it yet… What living here means now. Fine… Hilda. How many men have you killed?”

  “Two, ma’am.” The girl seemed proud of that. Like death was a good thing.

  “How many zombies? How many of the 'type-b' zombie strain? How many times have you had a tiny child coming at you that had to be killed, or it would absolutely and without a doubt, kill you?” Vickie leaned in, her voice going softer.

  It was the new yelling after all, which didn’t seem lost on the young woman still sitting on the floor.

 

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