With the gun in her hand it was hard to remember her little friend. He was there in the darkness begging her to get control back, however the whispers were too loud. As she had stalked toward the box-canyon and Baloo, there had been a hissing, roaring static in her head, drowning everything out.
THEY had her sister and THEY would have to pay…and yet when she tried to picture Sadie she saw Neil lying in the rain, bleeding, or she saw Captain Grey being whipped to death, or Sarah, burned and tortured, stepping in front of her to catch the bullet in her chest.
It was so confusing to her that when she had first walked down into the basement, she wanted to ask the man with the bat if they were back in New Eden? Or were they on a ferry boat she had set on fire? Would Trey come through the door all water-logged and dead?
And who was the man with the bat? She didn’t know and yet the bigger question was what had he done to Sadie with that bat? Did it deserve execution? Sadie’s face had been pinched and her teeth clenched—she was in pain. He had hurt her just like so many others had. Thinking about pain and bad people…oh, there had been so many bad guys and so many dead friends and now there were so many voices in her head that she couldn’t remember exactly who she was herself.
But then the plain, straggle-haired woman they called La-La had asked if she was Jillybean. That had been like throwing ice water on a simmering lust. The whispers fell silent and there was only Chris and Eve in her, and when Jillybean had been distracted checking out the Suburban the two seemed to shrink from her consciousness.
Now, as Baloo drove, Jillybean barely felt them. She was too wigged out as La-La wouldn’t stop staring, as if the little girl was some sort of celebrity. They weren’t a hundred yards past the gate before the woman blurted: “Did you really blow up that bridge? You know the River King’s bridge? It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone your secret. It’s our way—no names and no past.”
“Is that because you guys all did bad stuff?” Jillybean asked. She didn’t mean the question in a judgmental way. Surrounded by the glass house of her past, she would be the last person to throw a stone.
Baloo answered for La-La: “We’ve all done some bad things. Really, I don’t think there’s anyone alive who hasn’t had to set aside their morals at least once during the apocalypse. We understand that and we accept it. And we accept anyone who is willing to put the past behind them, as long as they’re willing to live under our rules.”
Jillybean felt her heart kick up a notch. “And what are the rules?” she asked with unrestrained eagerness. “Are they normal rules, like how people used to live?”
“We don’t have human sacrifices, if that’s what you mean,” La-La answered, once more showing off the wide gap in her teeth as she smiled. “It’s just normal stuff like not stealing and stuff like that. You could come and be with us. We’d take you and your friend. Is she…” She turned her dull brown eyes toward Sadie. “…Is she really the River King’s daughter and did you really kill him?”
Baloo sucked in his breath. “La-La, you know our laws. We don’t ask this sort of thing.”
La-La arched an eyebrow. “We can ask strangers anything we want. There’s no rule about that. We do it all the time, Jillybean, so don’t think I’m picking on you. It’s how we find out what’s going on out in the world. Also, there’s nothing else to do now that TV is gone. Everyone sits around the campfire telling stories. You’re something of a folk hero to a lot of people.”
Jillybean had been about to ask that they change the subject, but the term folk hero stopped her. She knew what a hero was, but had no idea what a “folk” was. Still, it seemed very much like a compliment and she temporarily forgot about the gun in her hand.
“I guess I did blowded up the River King’s bridge,” she admitted.
“Jilly!” Sadie hissed and then a second later grimaced at having used her name. “Damn. Okay, listen you two, stick to your laws and stop asking questions or I’ll…” She fumbled over her words, unable to finish the useless threat. In exasperation, she turned back to Jillybean and said: “We really don’t know these people so let’s plead the fifth from here on, okay?”
“A fifth of what?” Jillybean asked. She had heard of something called a fifth of whiskey, but Sadie wasn’t much of a drinker. It had to be a fifth of something else they were supposed to ask for but she didn’t know exactly what.
Sadie growled: “It means we have the right to remain silent, so let’s do that, okay? Let’s just find Jimmy and…ugh! Forget that name, too,” she ordered, giving a little flick of the black pistol towards Baloo.
He smiled—Jillybean thought him far less intimidating when he smiled. “Sure, his name is forgotten. Where is he? Down by the fields, I take it. The uh, girl did mention the baby buffaloes. They sure are cute when they’re small.”
Jillybean agreed that they were and had to resist the urge to prattle on about them or about any baby animal, even though she really wanted to. Despite everything, she trusted Baloo and had to ask: “You had kids in the Before didn’t you?” His smile went thin, becoming more of a line with a poked-up little grimace at each end. He said nothing and she went on, “I know from the name you picked. It’s from the Jungle Book. Baloo the Bear. I liked him.”
“Everyone likes our Baloo,” La-La said, touching his shoulder. When Baloo didn’t say anything and only drove with his hands clenched on the wheel, she went on, “Hey, you know what’s funny? If you joined our group, you’d be the only person who could take a normal name, like Sally or Jane. You know because Jillybean is already kind of out there. But you wouldn’t have to, you could take any name you wanted.”
“I’d be May Flower,” Jillybean said automatically. “On account that’s what my mom said once.” The memory of the warm May day swam in front of her like a mirage—the barking dog, the constantly curving frisbee, her mom so happy. Sadie shook her head, dispelling the memory. Jillybean understood that head shake much better than she did begging for fifths. It meant they weren’t going to stay with Baloo’s group.
The reasons were obvious: there were too few of them. Their supply situation, stuck out in the middle of nowhere like they were, would be forever tenuous, and, by their own admission, they were surrounded by bad guys who were already nipping around the edges of their world like wolves around the buffalo herd. The community was precariously balanced and there was one thing Jillybean knew about herself: she drew trouble like a magnet.
“Thanks for the offer, La-La, but we can’t stay. We have to get going west to the Pacific.”
“So, it was true, you were scouting,” Baloo said, seeming disappointed in himself. He was still shaking his head when they rolled down from the last hill and came on the fields. Sadie pointed to the nearest house and a minute later, he pulled up the drive. Before they got out, he stopped Sadie. “Since you are scouting, let me give you some advice, steer clear of Idaho Falls. There’s a group down there that’s all sorts of trouble. Slavers and bandits and everything in between. They’ll take one look at you and Jil…and her, I mean, and that will be it for you.”
“Thanks. That’s right where we were heading for.”
“That’s what I thought,” he answered with a shrug. This was followed by silence that stretched out. When it grew awkward, Baloo said: “Okay,” which seemed to be the signal for the four of them to climb out of the SUV.
Now the guns were no longer held with the same enmity as minutes before. In fact, Jillybean forgot she was even holding hers. She was squinting around in the dark. “Jimmy?” she called in a carrying whisper. “Hey, Jimmy! It’s us.”
Sadie, who was sitting on the running board, tried next: “It’s okay, Jimmy, they’re our hostages.” When she realized that didn’t sound so great, she turned to Baloo. “I guess you and La-La can take off. Will you be alright walking back?”
La-La stepped forward and nervously asked: “You’re taking the truck? Can we at least take your old car? You know, because of the stiffs?”
“We d
on’t have a car,” Jillybean said, quietly. Whenever she thought about Hank the Hummer and all the work she had put into getting him ready for the trip, it made her more than a bit sad. “We had a Humvee, but there were bandits and a bomb and it fell off a mountain with us in it. He didn’t make it and we’ve been walking for days and days ever since.”
“Then take the Suburban,” Baloo told Sadie. “It’s the least we can do and, um hey, I hope there’s no hard feelings. I really was just trying to protect my people.”
Sadie gave a shrug. “I’ll heal, so I guess not.” Baloo started to put his hand out as if he wanted to shake Sadie’s hand, but she still held the pistol she had taken from Baggy Pants and the moment became strained. Since they had both been hostage and hostage taker, it wasn’t likely going to get any less strained and the fact that it was the dead of night didn’t help.
“Bye,” Sadie said, “and good luck.” After exchanging good byes, Baloo and La-La disappeared into the night. Jillybean could hear their steps on the gravel as they trudged away. Sadie listened awhile as well and then turned a little, hobbling circle calling out: “Jimmy! Come on, man. It’s us.”
Jillybean worried that if she got any louder she would start attracting monsters. And what good was the calling doing, anyway? If Jimmy was where she had left him, he had to have heard by now. Which meant he was either afraid and cowering in the forest or he had left for some reason.
“He was over there near those woods,” she said, walking across the dirt trail to the forest of pine that overlooked the field and the little farmhouse. The handcart was there but there was no sign of Jimmy.
Sadie grumbled: “What the hell? I bet he’s gone to the valley to see if you needed help. It’s a fine time to grow a pair.”
Jillybean had heard that saying before, but never knew what it meant. In this case, she guessed there was some sort of sarcasm involved. But she didn’t think he had gone to the valley—it wasn’t his way. She had been with him for days on end and had heard his stories of war and fighting and close escapes. In none of them had he taken the lead.
He was a natural follower who had shrunk as a person when Sergeant Steinman had died, and had shrunk even more when Sadie had been captured. What had he been like when Jillybean left?
No better than a mouse, Ipes said.
I’d say an ant, Chris suggested. He’s probably crawling around in the bushes.
He’s a turd, Eve said. We all know what happened to him. He ran away. He didn’t believe in you, Jillybean. He thought you were crazy. Ha! You sure proved him wrong.
“Shut it,” Jillybean said, under her breath.
Sadie caught the mumbled words and turned slightly towards her sister. “Huh? Did you say something?”
“I-I said darn it,” Jillybean lied. She hated being crazy and she hated that everyone knew she was crazy. Lying was wrong, but a thousand times over it had been proven that being crazy was more wrong, even with her sister. Maybe, especially with her sister. Jillybean wanted more than anything for Sadie, not just to like her, but also to respect her. But how could someone respect a maniac?
“I think Jimmy ran off,” Jillybean said. “There’s stuff missing from the cart. His backpack and some food and all the rest of the M4 ammo, which really is a weasel thing to do, not that it matters, I guess.”
Sadie was no longer toting around her M4; the only conclusion that could be drawn from that was that it had been taken from her when she had been captured and she had forgotten to get it back in the rush to escape. Now they were down to the bombs Jillybean had rucked about for the last few days, her .38 and the black pistol that Sadie had grabbed with whatever ammo was in the clip.
“Jimmy, damn it!” Sadie said poking around in the handcart, seeing for herself the truth. In frustration, she gave the contraption a shake. “Okay, he couldn’t have gone far. Thirty minutes on foot…what’s that, two miles? I bet he’s heading back to the cabin.”
Jillybean wondered if going after him was worth it, and yet she didn’t have a better idea. Her brain was still a bit squirrelly.
They loaded up the Suburban with everything from the handcart and slowly drove back to the cabin. It had been a three hour trek on foot; with the SUV it took a quarter of that time and that was only because they rolled slowly along, shouting his name.
They saw nothing but a few monsters, which lumbered at them, crashing through the undergrowth uncaring that the branches further shredded their flesh and tore away the last remnants of the rags they wore. Whenever that happened, Sadie spurted the Suburban forward until the monsters were struggling to catch up.
As they both expected, the cabin was empty. Jimmy would have had to run all the way to beat them there. “So what do we do?” Sadie asked. She had limped around the cabin and now was on the couch in the front room, looking too tired to make it back to the Suburban even if they had a destination in mind.
Jillybean walked to the kitchen, stood for a moment with her hands on her hips and then went to stare at the bedrooms, two of which were crawling in black mold. She tsked at the sight before heading back into the living room. “We spend the night,” she stated. “I’ll hide the truck. We’ll get you set up on that couch and in the morning…I don’t know, go on, I guess. We can’t go back, that’s for certain. What if the other teams are doing even worserer than us?” It seemed like a farfetched idea and yet the world was a bad place these days.
Sadie’s eyes were closing by degrees. She was exhausted from her long labors hauling the handcart, and the injuries she had been dealt at the hands of Baggy Pants and his bat.
“We’ll spend the night,” Jillybean said again, this time quieter. “I’ll get you a blanket. How about you lay back?” Her sister had her eyes closed by the time Jillybean came back with the least musty-smelling blanket she could find.
She trusts you, Ipes told her. Jillybean was also exhausted and his voice was the only one in her head. The rest was white noise which had her brain going fuzzy. She fought against the desire to sleep. There were traps and alarms to set. She had to picture Jimmy as she worked. She had to take everything she knew about him into account as she strung wire and placed her pipe bombs.
As cranky as she was with him, she didn’t want to waste a bomb on him. They were strictly just in case Baloo wasn’t what he seemed. She had read him as an honest man, but she had been wrong before.
She wove a web around the cabin. It was perfect in its construction and yet it caught nothing. Jimmy kept far away and Baloo was either the good guy Jillybean thought he was or he was smart enough to know when he had come up against an opponent who was beyond his depth. Whichever the case, the two slept through the remainder of the night and well into the morning.
Jillybean woke with a fright. A hand shook her and when she looked around she was shocked to see Sadie laid out on the floor lengthwise, almost like a snake. “I need your help,” Sadie said around what Jillybean at first though was a warped smile. It was, in fact, a grimace of pain. Both of her shins were purpled and swollen, unable to bear her weight.
It was up to Jillybean to bathe and feed her sister, as well as to gather up all of the hidden supplies they had left behind only the day before. The most important of these supplies was the partially filled five gallon gas can. The thing weighed nearly as much as the little girl. She went about these chores slowly. There was no rush. The idea of traveling through bandit country while the sun was up filled them both with dread.
They whiled away the daylight hours, napping in Sadie’s case and, for the most part, reading in Jillybean’s. She felt she was too much of a big girl to take a nap. After preparing the Suburban’s brake and gas pedals for her short legs, a process which only took four empty tin cans, some glue and seven minutes, she went in search of appropriate reading material.
Sadly, there wasn’t much that a little girl would be interested in, however among the dry Ludlums and dull Micheners, she found The Call of the Wild and devoured it in one long pull that lasted for hours.
She was so captivated by the adventures of Buck the sled dog that even after reading to the final period, she sat there in a near dream state, picturing herself in the frozen Klondike, living the life of a timber wolf, which seemed much better than the life she was living now.
She was so lost that she didn’t notice for some time that the sun was setting and that her sister was awake and staring at her. “We have to talk,” Sadie said, her voice a sad whisper. Alarm bells rang inside Jillybean’s head. There was only one reason for her to use that voice. “Is Eve back?”
That was the reason. Ipes was Mister Safety and Chris was Mister Juvenile Fun, But Eve was evil.
The non-answer was answer enough and Sadie sighed. “She can’t be back, Jillybean. I saw Neil throw her into the fire. She’s dead…so why talk about her?” Jillybean sat there in silence, while the world outside took on a pinkish hue as the sun dipped between two peaks. She couldn’t bring herself to tell the truth.
“Jillybean? Please.”
Her little mouth opened and closed twice before she answered: “She came back, that’s why I said her name. But I-I didn’t mean it.”
“Of course not. I’m not blaming you, I’m just trying to get you to see that she can’t be back. She died. She burned up into nothing. And once something’s dead, they don’t come back.”
“That’s not always true, Ipes is back, too. He’s quieter now and doesn’t make fun of people as much as he used to, so that’s good, right?”
Sadie was silent for well over a minute, her eyes searching the growing shadows as if for answers. Eventually, she came up with one: “Maybe Ipes didn’t actually die. He is made of fluff, and…and he’d been hurt before and came away just fine. I think he just recovered, but Eve is dead. You have to accept that.”
Even if Jillybean wanted to accept it, Eve wouldn’t. I got out of that doll before they could kill me, Jillybean. Tell her that and tell her to mind her own crummy business.
“She says she got out of the doll before Mister Neil could burn it. That’s what she says.”
The Undead World (Book 10): The Apocalypse Sacrifice Page 11