by P. S. Power
Too late now.
Rachel grabbed her head.
"Crap. I told them this wouldn't work. It wasn't what you thought Mickey, I always knew you were too good for me. Always. You radiated goodness all the time, like a saint. I wasn't a very good person at all, not like you. I wanted to be, but the fact was I just couldn't measure up. Then, by the time I figured it all out, when I realized that I'd blown it and should have loved you, not Derrick, it was too late. I was two years married and had a husband I couldn't stand to leave, who was sleeping his way through three states. I'd figured that you'd forgotten about me and moved on. I wanted you to have done that. I only ever wanted the best for you. I just didn't think it was me." She stared again, hard, as if willing him to see what she meant.
Like it mattered now?
"OK. I didn't move on, though. Then, after things started happening, they didn't get any better. Just one step down after another really. I'm pretty sure that one of these nights, maybe soon, I'm just going to blow my brains out instead of going to sleep. I'm not even sure why I haven't yet." He smiled and held a hand up to his face, feeling stupid, like he was trying to punish her for not having loved him. She should have, Rachel said, but there it was, even her ghost said it had never been the case.
"Not about you though. It's just time. I'm not needed anymore, so I need to get out of the way. It's for the best, right?"
"No!" She yelled the word, which got him to pull his nine to end her life if she didn't stop it.
Rachel laughed and pointed at the weapon, but lowered her voice.
"I'm a ghost, dumbass. You can't shoot me. No one can hear me anyway, and besides, this area is still zombie free and will be for decades. That compound really kicks ass, you know that? Anything dead walking into a cleaned zone will just stop after a few hours. But anyway, back to what I was saying before you decided to get all shooty on me and tried to silence my right to free speech."
Then she smiled, a vulpine looking thing that reminded Jake of the good times, before she'd left him all alone.
"You aren't done yet Jake. Those others may have voted you off the island, but seriously, screw them. You are The Very Good Man at the end of the world, and they need you until it's not ending anymore. You don't get out of that just because a few people think some baby is the bomb. Not that she isn't a little cutie. Stupid name though. Hope? Why not just name her 'Princess Better Than You' and have done with it? Ah well, people eat that stuff up anyway." She tried to push his shoulder, like she would have Back Before, but stopped partway through the motion, shrugging instead.
"Anyway, that's why I'm here. You can't kill yourself, and you need to go back. They won't want you, but that can't stop you. They're falling apart already and screwing it all up. They need you and always did, if only to shoot them when they stop working together. People are dumb that way."
It was a point.
Not that he needed to listen to a hallucination, or even the ghost of some girl he used to love that didn't have time for him. Still people, when you got down to it, had some major issues. Even the Bawdri, who were all old enough to have learned to move past some things, kept walking right into trouble, didn't they? It was like something major was missing from the way everyone thought. Couldn't they see that society always worked best when people tried to work as a team?
The ghost, or whatever she was rolled her eyes at him.
"Damn it. I knew it shouldn't have been me, I told them all, but no, it had to be me they said. Jake won't listen to anyone else, not after his mom blew up like that. Can't send Jesus, Jake would shoot him... Argh. Stop being a little tool and go do your freaking job, will you? So I was a bitch. I admit it. I was stupid and couldn't see a good thing that was right in front of me. Colleen can though, and your girlfriend, Vicki? She wasn't just hanging around because you were supposed to be some super good guy you know, she liked you before that. OK, maybe it isn't love on her part, but you know what? Maybe some people just don't get to have real love? In all the world only one person ever really loved me, and I messed that up so bad that the world nearly ended over it, so how's that for something to carry to the grave with you? The world will end without you, Mickey. Go and save it and don't take no for an answer."
She sounded incredibly certain of herself, but what was he supposed to do about it? Just go and tell everyone he was back and that they could do what he said or... What? He couldn't fight them all, and if he had any Very Good Man powers they were so pale and tiny compared to Hope's that no one would take him seriously. What could he do? Beg them to let him help?
Bribe them into being good children and try to save the world?
Plus, he wasn't the Very Good Man. Hope was. Right?
"Wrong. Hope is a little baby that one day, if she gets a chance to live that long, might grow up to be a very important person. Someone good and light for everyone to rally around as they put the world back together and learn to live in harmony. She isn't you though. She never was, and couldn't be. Understand this Jake. Sammi lied. So did Lamont, Darian, Debbi and half the leaders remaining in the world. They needed you, so they went along with the game, knowing that you weren't anything other than some guy. One that kept doing what was needed. They sold you as the one they needed, knowing it was a risk and that they were all liars. But they were wrong. They were always wrong." She shook her head slowly, smiling again. "You are the one. If they could have seen you before I broke you like I did, before things shattered in your head, they would have responded to you like they are to Hope. You have to go back to that, to stop them from making the last mistake. You have to go to them as what they expect. There is no other way. Please." Tears fell down ghostly cheeks, soft sobbing causing the next words to hitch just a bit.
"I did this. I was selfish and scared and broken, and almost everything bad that happened to the world now is my fault. If you'd been loved, nurtured by me instead of hurt, the others would have come to you and most of this would have never happened. The Technologists would have delivered their fix in weeks rather than nearly a year later and most of the world would still be alive. Because of me, what I did to you, they couldn't find you. Then you warped and bent into something so dark that no one can see what you really are.
"But you and only you can save them. By changing again, Mickey. Remember what you were, who you really are. You have to. Please? I don't deserve you, but I don't deserve to carry the death of the world forever either."
Then, in what seemed a bit of a cowardly fashion she started to fade. He had more to say, but there wasn't time now, was there?
"I loved you, Rachel. I really did, you know. More than anything else in the world." He said the words not expecting a reply, but she smiled and spoke anyway, voice still clear enough to hear.
"I love you too. Now. I wish that I'd been a better person while I lived, but don't let the world die because of me. They don't deserve it." Then she was gone.
It was a relief.
Jake just sat for a while though, wondering if it had been real at all, or if he'd just gotten so lonely that he'd invented an imaginary friend to play with. It wasn't clear to him at all, but one thing was. She had a point or two in there somewhere. If he was the Very Good Man, then he needed to change and prove it to everyone. Somehow. If he wasn't... then he had to fake it so well they could all see it anyway. Hope just couldn't do what they needed. That meant that he'd have to make himself really become what they needed and do it so powerfully that no one would doubt him again.
He'd changed before, letting go of his fear and selfishness. Could he do it again?
Smiling he decided not to worry about it for the rest of the day, just packing things up instead, for a trip the next day. Some clothing, ammunition and things to keep himself clean. The truth was that they'd probably kill him for trying, but what the heck? Dead was dead and it didn't really matter how it happened, did it?
He slept without dreaming again and cleaned up before leaving, putting all the fires out carefully and leavi
ng the door unlocked but closed, just in case he never made it back. It was a nice place after all. Nearly a mansion.
Jake would have traded all of it for a hovel that had running water though.
He didn't take the cart, just walking back to the House, trying to remember who he'd been as a child. The love he felt for everyone, the peace and joy he took in just being alive. How he'd made friends easily and always had a kind word for everyone. It was so different from what he was now that it seemed impossible to get back, but he could try, couldn't he?
Jake really wanted to be good. He always had.
No, Jake couldn't do this. He was a killer, hard and cold, doing what was needed no matter how much it hurt. He needed to be Mickey again. The kid that had gone to play music at old folks homes every month, just to make their days a little brighter. If this day was to be won at all it would have to be by him.
Jake just stopped walking about half a mile from the front of the driveway and shook for a bit. It wasn't the cold, though the air was frigid. It was fear. A strange thing that paired itself with horrible sorrow, pain that ripped deep into his soul. Mickey was a good guy, maybe even very good, like ghost Rachel had said. But Jake had done too much, killed too many, for him to come back now. Hadn't he? It was clear that part of him still existed, but he couldn't live in the world as it was now. It was why he'd changed into Jake in the first place.
It had to be done though. Something had to happen, or the world might not make it. He'd just have to do it, even if it hurt. Even if Mickey was too weak and small to take it. There was no other way. He started walking again, not sure what was about to happen, but not feeling any different at all, not until he saw a small yellow dog playing with Ken in the back yard, still too thin, but obviously happy and warm enough. A bit of smoke came from the metal pipe sticking out of the forge roof and some hammering sounds came from within. Instead of going to the House first, he smiled and poked his head through the open door to see Henry pounding on some metal that was too cool and Colleen pumping the bellows even though there was no metal in the fire.
Silly of them.
"Reheat. Watch the spread of the hot spot, and stop wasting fuel Colleen. That stuff was a pain to make." It was good advice, but they didn't take it, Henry just stopping dead and looking away and Colleen running to him, arms out. She stopped short though, but he took her into his arms anyway, feeling a wash of love for her as he did. It was a stronger feeling than he expected, almost a tickle that hurt a bit when he let go.
"All right, Henry, stop staring at the wall and get back to work." He sounded very friendly when he said it, though it didn't get movement. That made him laugh and walk over to pat the kid on the back.
"Don't worry, I'll fix the little mistake that was made a few weeks ago. Go ahead and work and seriously, use the drip can. Let's see if Ken is up to bellows work. I'd like you to come with me Colleen." He took her hand which gripped his, even though she hadn't spoken yet.
"You left. Without me. You said that you'd stay with me. You told Heather you would." It was small and a lot weaker sounding than it should have been from his friend.
"I didn't want you to be without resources. Some things have come up. Saw a ghost, and now I need to fix things. I mean, if I'm not insane. Or, really, even if I am. Shall we?" He hugged her again, feeling the tension of her body soften as he did.
It was nice. A loving thing that felt more real than anything ever had.
Still holding her hand he walked into the House, no one noticing him at first. The place was full, with even more people than the last time he'd been there, but people were in the dining area shouting at each other. They didn't even get quiet when they started to notice him.
Smiling he walked to the front, where a panel of people sat, as if elected officials or self-proclaimed high lords. Like that would work?
"Hello everyone. A bit of a correction. I actually am, it turns out, The Very Good Man. Now, shall we get back to work and stop bickering?" He sounded so happy about it that a hush fell over the room. From the back of the space Sammi walked toward him, looking sad and troubled.
He winked at her.
"I know, you thought it was fake. So did I. We were wrong. No harm though. It isn't too late to fix things." His smile even felt warm and more genuine than anything she'd ever seen from him.
She didn't speak, no one did for a long time, until a slightly blue man from the back came forward, staring a smile on his own lips.
"Ah. I see?" It sounded funny, a thick accent along with a question where it didn't belong. He was dressed in white loose clothing and a headdress, with a single brown dot between his eyes.
"You are the exile?"
He didn't seem upset about it though, just like he was clarifying something that had happened while he wasn't there.
"Nope. I'm Mickey. Not exiled at all." He looked at everyone and let the joy within him spread to the room, let it touch them all, radiating from every cell in his being, resonating with one single thought, carrying peace and love with it.
This time they got it. At least some of them did. They started to bow, a few going to their knees in supplication. He walked over to them, pulling them up into hugs, patting backs and smiling radiantly the whole time. Like he used too. He'd forgotten what it was like being him.
"Now, I believe there are some tests in order? Shall we see to them? For real this time?" The last time they'd been faked, of course, now they needed something a little more certain.
The Grand Comtrice came forward first, with Terras the T'srith leader pulling his own blade and slicing her palm for her, to make certain it was being done for real. A lot more blood than she normally would have used too, but the stocky man held her hand up and invited people to look at it for a while first, as it pooled in her palm. She didn't wince about it though, just looking scared. Horrified about what she was being made to do.
"Don't worry Debbie. It's all right." Taking her hand Mickey let his true self flow into her, the woman yelped, but that was fine now. There were no zombies within ear shot.
Her eyes rolled back into her head and she shook, given a real and proper reading this time, one so obvious that no one would doubt it. Well, they wouldn't doubt that she was at least faking it better at any rate.
"He... he..." She stopped even trying to speak for a long time, gasping instead.
"This is him. The Very Good Man. There is no doubt. It's so clear..."
Then she wept openly, letting him hold her close, a bit of her blood getting onto his jacket. He didn't mind though. It wasn't new and something had to stop the flow. Looking around he found nothing to do that with, so took his coat off and wrapped her hand.
No one wanted to listen to Lamont or the other Telepaths, but agreed to try other tests on him. The T'srith one was the most interesting, since it involved charging him from across the room, counting on his innate love and goodness to stop three of them from killing him. He just stood smiling the whole time. They were killers, but he knew they wouldn't harm him. So did they it seemed, on some level, because they all stopped short, even though it was considered a sign of weakness to do that.
It was the great and wild looking Denari leader that summed it up though, looking annoyed with everyone else for some reason.
"Good. I'll say it again, it doesn't matter if the smith is anyone else, the man is the only one that's managed to keep our heads out of our collective asses. We were wrong to send him away and should grovel on hands and knees to get him back. Or just possibly, work together like he said in the first place. If I, an old and hidebound Denari can see the truth in it, I can't see why you other people can't. We don't have any tales of some shining one coming to save us, but you do. Tossing him out just wasted time."
He nodded, still happy, waiting for everyone to see him do it.
"Exactly. So we got through this without any killing at all. Wonderful!" He didn't sit, just looking at the new council members sitting up front or whatever they were.
; "Am I back in now or do we waste more time with this?" It came out sounding almost like a joke, enough so that people smiled at it, even the ones that were about to lose power.
The woman in the middle looked like a slightly overweight city council member in a green pants suit with curly helmet hair that had to be either a racial trait or a perm. She sighed and looked around, then smiled herself.
"I think we can forgo the vote on that one... Great one. I... Why are there two of you then?"
It made sense to Mickey, though Jake wouldn't have gotten it in a million years.
"Easy enough. Because it will take more than one. I'm here to help get past the end of the old world, and Hope is here to make sure the new one is what we really need. That's all. It's a good thing, not a bad one. Now, if everyone is fine with me not being in exile, I need to go back to being how I really am again. Hanging out like this, being kind and loving, will get me killed, and if I have it right, that might not be perfect for everyone else?"
No one seemed to object, so he relaxed and let his mind go back into survival mode. Jake seemed to dim somehow and faces that had been happy and smiling suddenly relaxed, a few even seeming sad. Then they started to turn on Sammi, looking angry.
"You said he wasn't The VGM. We exiled him and..." Yalla sounded horrified and had something in her hand. A knife, because if it was a gun she was a fool. The bodies were far too packed into the room for that to work.
The small blonde girl froze in place, but Jake didn't.
"Stop it. Minor hiccup. Right now I need an update on how the Linster family is doing and how the supply chain is being developed. Morris?" It seemed right to him, but when the man, dressed in black this time, stepped forward, he didn't look like his normal cheery self at all.
"I've... we've had to steal the raw materials for it. That's been kind of slowing us down. We all know what has to happen, but the second you were out the door everyone decided to try looking out for themselves first." He sounded sincere enough about what his people had been doing, but someone from the back of the room growled, pushing their way forward, fist shaking.