by P. S. Power
He cried a lot, living the things he'd done over and over. Each life taken was a failure, even when it had saved hundreds more in the long run. Every person he intimidated into doing what was right when they were tired or hungry, hated him a little for it, and that hurt too.
He just wanted to be loved. For someone to like him, and it seemed like no one really did.
Jake slowly started to understand his life though, through those visions, real or not. It hadn't made sense to him before, that his true nature was kind and gentle, A Very Good Person that was supposed to give love to the world. Hope. Not be whatever the hell he'd become. A monster that took what was best inside himself and stuffed it down into a bottomless pit, to keep even worse creatures from killing those around him. It sounded so great when he just thought the words. Noble even.
He'd done it for them. For the others. Even when they hated him for doing it. Standing over the corpses of their friends, dying a little inside because someone had to protect them and no one else was willing to. That was a lie though, wasn't it? The visions showed him that most of the others would have rather just died, rather than be kept alive through the hell they were in.
Jake didn't let them die. He kept fighting, even when he should have let them go. The world wouldn't thank him for it either, not for a long time, if ever. He'd go down in history as only a monster in the end. No more than a bully with a gun and a chip on his shoulder, because no one knew who he'd been supposed to be. They couldn't see the art and friendship there, hidden behind the mask.
The worst part was that it really didn't matter that he knew these things or not. Oh, there was a great deal of introspection going on, and he became pretty self-aware, but it didn't help him, having those old feelings there inside, the biggest part of himself below the surface. Hidden under the still waters of his mind, in a deep and dark place.
A very dark place that he just didn't need right now.
No, what he needed to do was to forget all of that, forget being Mickey Robson, or even Jake the killer, and just survive. He had to let go of himself and learn to not care for a while, about almost anything. Just the next step, the next breath. He had to become only what was needed now. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, the past haunting him like it was.
Each morning he walked, focused on the fire he carried, on finding water to drink, or on the next bit of food. He followed rivers and streams, killing any animals he found, barely noticing when he did half the time. The snow slowly melted, but the days didn't get any longer. The one respite he got, sitting near his fire each night was remembering what he used to be. It was toxic, but better than staring into the night wondering when death would come for him.
The screaming shook him out of his fugue state one day, just after noon. At first it sounded far away, a sound that was all wrong for the woods he was in. A human sound. Young and scared. Dropping the fire log he carried into the muck and grassy mud he'd been walking on, a road he realized, or a big path, Jake ran, his body screaming at him in protest as he did, nine in hand.
It took a long time to get to the scene, a girl that looked about sixteen or so, rail thin and dressed in rags that hid her form enough he wasn't sure how he knew it was a female at all, was on the ground. Whimpering. Holding a glinting blade that had a nice shine to it. In front of her was a white form, a man, naked and distorted. It was hard to see, the light coming from the pale skin was almost as blinding as snow, but Jake recognized it. A cannibal. Windigo. The real kind that he'd never even managed to hit with a bullet, since they were too fast.
"Hey." Jake tried to scream the word himself, but his voice came out sounding tired and weary of the world. Slightly raspy. "I think you and I have an appointment?"
OK, it was a crazy thing to say, even he could tell that as he charged it, waiting to close, knowing that it would dart away if he tried shooting too soon. The whole thing felt odd, like it wasn't real, only the pain in his body giving him a sign that there was anything going on at all. For all he knew it was still just in his mind.
For some strange reason the white creature didn't move and the girl had gone silent as well, both of them just seeming shocked for some reason. Jake didn't fire until the end of the barrel nearly touched the hard white flesh of the thin being.
He missed of course.
The thing was just too fast, it blurred as he tried for it, bullets raining from his hand, the gun a part of him. It wasn't enough though, the thing didn't do more than dodge a little, smiling with its ragged teeth showing. Taunting him. Jake didn't care, just trying to figure out what to do.
He reacted calmly as the weapon in his hand clicked, empty of anything useful. Smiling he remembered something funny. In the old Superman television show, the black and white one from the fifties, when the bad guys ran out of bullets they always threw the gun at Supes. Laughing he did that too, which did nothing at all. The creature moved on him then though, almost as if it didn't realize he had another weapon coming out, his forty-five that was tucked into the holster on his back.
He fired into the things middle as its oversized sticklike arm grabbed his throat. It was strong, but didn't notice the shooting for the first two rounds or so. Bright blood sprang up in a lovely blossom on the pale skin, the thing finally going down, pure white flesh becoming filthy from the mud.
"That's a good boy. Fucking die now." He realized that he'd already shot it in the head when he spoke, but that he was also pretty beaten up, scratched and hit more than once.
The world went black, even though he didn't really feel that injured. It didn't feel like anything though, so Jake decided not to worry about it. Maybe all the rest of this had been a dream and he was already dead anyway? It made more sense than zombies and way more than him being some kind of very good anything.
He woke up later in a dark space, a cool cloth being patted on his forehead, there was speaking but it sounded funny at first. English, but with an accent.
"We should take his weapons and kill him. We don't know if those new things will make him turn or not!" The voice was hushed and male, which got Jake to open his eyes and look around, forcing himself to his feet. He was on a real bed, but in the same clothing he'd been wearing since he'd left the House.
"I don't think so." Jake rasped the words and sounded cold and hard, rather than like he was going to fall down. He walked to the door of the room, a real house, if not one overly large, and dug the second to last capsule out of his pocket. The pale cream color of it visible in the sun when the front door got opened.
Holding it up he smiled, there were four people there, the girl in rags, a woman that looked about thirty or so, and had probably never been all that pretty, which had turned into an almost scary look with all the weight loss, and two men. Rather a man, and a boy that held a piece of wood. A cricket paddle Jake thought.
"Has this area been cleaned of the undead yet?" He tried to make it clear, but they all stared and looked at him as Jake turned to see where he was. It was a small town, or village, which looked old.
He tried again.
"Are there still zombies?"
Looking at him like he was a madman the guy that had suggested killing him, the older one that was probably pushing fifty, but who looked rangy and hard, grunted.
"Aye..."
"OK, this capsule, it has nanos in it. It will clear about three hundred square miles and make it so that the undead are just dead again. I know it seems strange... it will take about three hours to work. For the close things. A day for the outer edges it can reach." He didn't wait, squeezing it and holding it up to the slight breeze. His hands shook and it felt really hard to break the thing open at all.
"As to my wounds, that thing, the tall white one, I don't think it was a new kind of zombie. That was a person. A crazy person that's taken to eating flesh and... fuck... I don't know how it works. Anyway, you still have to deal with those, but none of you will turn now and this area will be safe from the animated dead."
There was a gasp fr
om the crowd, which was an odd thing, since he hadn't realized others had come out. It wasn't much of a group, about ten people, including the ones he'd already noticed. A female voice from the back sounded hopeful though.
"Like on the radio? That's real? We all thought it was just someone telling stories to keep everyone going. Once the military in the U.S. started claiming that people could teleport and that they'd be coming around eventually to shut the zombies down, well, it's a good thing, but doesn't sound very real. Are you supposed to be one of those type then? You don't have orange or yellow eyes. Just brown." She sounded a little sad about it all, like she thought he was insane too and was humoring him.
"Nope. Sorry, I just got left by one of them in the forest. A... I don't know how long ago. I'm Jake. Um, were am I?" That got a low murmur, but an answer too, from the formerly screaming girl.
"Canada. You walked out of the forest? Alone? No wonder you look half dead. Thank you. For saving me. That thing... I don't know what it was. I had to go and try to collect some wood for the fire, it's dangerous, but I can outrun the dead ones, I ran track in school." She sounded shifty about it, like she was hiding something, everyone else looked away a little as if it were a secret.
"And now you can run faster?" He waited for a second, not caring, the girl finally nodding a little.
"Yeah, longer too."
"Cool." Jake stood then, tired and not caring what these people did to him anymore. Finally the gruff guy with the good idea of killing him before he turned, went inside, pulling him along.
"We don't have food to share, wood is dangerous to get and you might be insane, but if you aren't and you don't start turning on us, well, I guess I can let you use the radio to try and call for help. After that though, even if you can't reach anyone, you'll have to go. We really can't risk having a stranger here, even after you saved Rene like that. Brave. Anyway, in here." He walked away, getting Jake to follow numbly.
It made sense that they'd feel that way. When you didn't have anything, it could be hard to share.
The old ham radio they had looked like a relic of the cold war, but actually worked. The man just tuned the thing to the military broadcast station, the one that the information went out on daily and handed Jake a microphone.
"Go ahead. They normally have someone listening. They get mad if you use this frequency to chat though, so be ready to get yelled at." The man smiled, as if trying to show how little he actually cared about that.
It was hard to think of what to say, so he didn't, just letting words com e out of his mouth.
"This is Jake. From the House. I'm... in the town of..." He looked around, the man behind him not moving, but filling the words in for him.
"Darrow, Manitoba."
"Right, I'm in Darrow, Manitoba. Um, I could use some help." He repeated it twice before someone got on the line.
"Sir? Jake? We're sending a message now, stay were you are, we have help incoming. Are you in immediate danger?" The man didn't sound young, but his voice wasn't rough either.
"No. I'm good for a short period of time here. Can you get someone to bring a food assembler? These people are starving." Everyone was. It was winter.
"I'll... put in the request, sir. We have a team coming for you, they should arrive in... The man from the Travelers said it will be about an hour. He knows someone familiar with the area."
They got off the line then, since this particular radio was powered by a hand cranked generator and Jake didn't have the energy to replace the electricity he'd used. The office chair under him was nice and soft, but the room was cold, nearly the same temperature that it was outside. It made a squeaking sound as he shifted.
"It's all right if I hang out for an hour, right?" The man hadn't seemed like he'd be good with that before, but he nodded, eyes crinkling suddenly, as if fighting a laugh.
"I'll be dipped. You actually are someone? You don't look like much. Kind of like a hobo, to tell the truth."
Jake nodded, not able to laugh along. It was just a fact after all.
No one talked to him, just hiding inside, but an hour later, less than that in fact, about fifty people popped into the town center, most of them with weapons, only three of them people he recognized at all.
Cam scrambled to him fast, armed with a rifle. She glared at the people that came to see what was going on from the safety of their windows.
"Did they take you?" She actually pointed the weapon, like she was going to use it. It surprised him a little, since she was about as close to non-violent as the world really allowed anymore.
Jake looked at the group but shook his head, since Morten wasn't there.
"No, Mort grabbed me, and dropped me off in the forest. He seemed really confused, like he didn't know what he was doing. I'm guessing someone else was controlling him." He didn't speak about the rest of what he'd seen, the visions and all that. Those might not to be real at all anyway.
Or they might mean something. He'd seen a lot though, one way or the other.
Cam stood, mouth open in the cold air, a bit of steam coming out as she exhaled. Vicki finished setting a line to defend them from attack and ran over, hugging him hard enough he feared for his life for a few seconds.
"Jake!" It was too loud, but she held him and didn't let go, kissing his cheeks for a long time.
For his portion of things he tried to return the move. It didn't work very well, as weak as he was, but it looked about right.
"What the hell happened?" She demanded it suddenly, as if ready to blame him for it. He explained it all then, but in a few lines.
One of the other Teleporters came over, a man that looked older, who sighed, but spoke in perfect English.
"Damn. Morten has gone missing. Just after you did. We didn't know what to think about it, but no one thought it would be this. His wife, Tawny, is taking his job, making sure that the new nano compound is getting spread. Doing a good job of it too, from what I've heard." The man rubbed at his baggy eyes tiredly.
They were pure yellow.
"Tansy?" Jake said, not really correcting the man, just making sure he'd heard correctly. "Good. Um, hey, not to be a wimp here, but I'm going to collapse soon. Vicki is really kind of holding me up right now. Could we get somewhere safer? Or at least less chilly?"
That got Cam to take his arm, along with Vicki and Dave, the other person he recognized. The boy hadn't run up to hug him, but the second they were in the building he took over, barking orders like he owned the place.
"We need warm blankets and fluids. Then Jake needs to eat, and probably sleep for a long time. Move!" The people around him didn't for a second, but finally one of them ran out of the visitor center with the compound making machine plugging away in the back. There were cots in the room, making it obvious they all slept there.
The Vals had very little clue about what was going on, other than that he was back. That made sense. They didn't get hypothermia. He was shaking constantly, but he couldn't feel anything yet. Except that the place felt hot, like a sauna. After about fifteen minutes it started burning, as he got wrapped in a silver space blanket, Cam sitting in front of him held to his chest for warmth. It couldn't have been comfortable for her, or smelled very nice, but she didn't complain.
"We all thought you were dead Jake. Everyone did. Well, not Heather, but everyone else. You just vanished. I'm going to kill Morten when I find him. Fucking traitor." She sounded serious about it, even though Jake had made sure to let them all know the guy had seemed really out of it at the time.
"No." He didn't expand, but Dave shook his head.
"That's for later. Right now we have to get Jake warm, and then some calories. I don't know about this stuff. I'm afraid to take off your shoes right now. How many toes are we going to have to cut off?" He sounded slightly amused by the idea, but Jake got that he was covering, denying the fact that the idea freaked him out. He actually looked up to Jake, making him one of the very few people Dave considered an equal.
The trut
h was he didn't know. They hurt though, now that they had a chance to warm up some. He'd tried to be careful the whole time to stay as warm as possible, but he hadn't taken his boots off a lot. Just enough to make sure his feet got to dry out and warm up each night by the fire. Shrugging, Vicki took them off for him, so he wouldn't have to dislodge the warm girl in front of him, which he hugged to his chest. Technically they both should have been naked, but they just hadn't taken the time. It was a body heat thing.
"These... reek. They look healthy otherwise. Red and like they're going to hurt for a while, but the toes are still attached, and not black or anything."
Reassured, Dave looked at them and nodded, using his more complete human medical knowledge. That being basic first aid. Vicki didn't have a lot of personal experience with things like that after all.
"Looks way better than I thought. So what's next? I mean you need to get cleaned up and sleep, food and all that, but what do we need to do when you're out? Start killing off the Teleporters?"
Cam stiffened, but Jake shook his head.
"No. I need Morris and... Nate. Tipper too, Vicki. No one else from the House. That's important. No one that's lived there. I also need the Linsters and..." He turned to Cam, looking at the back of her head which was too close, so he leaned his cheek against it to get her attention. She was so warm. "And even though I don't want to let you go, I need you to find Lois and steal her ladle again. You gave it back, right?"
Cam stiffened a little.
"Yeah. You told me too. Now I'm stealing it again? Why... don't think I can do it?" She sounded like she was affronted as if her ability to steal was being questioned.
"Well, what can I say? Anyone can make a sudden grab once, doing it again, especially without her noticing it, that's a lot harder. She always carries that thing, doesn't she?" He tried to laugh, but it didn't happen. Instead, finally, he fell asleep.