Silencer, p.26
Silencer, page 26
“I want a story, c'mon, a story!” The stage whisper had been meant to attract attention for some reason.
Meant to put Jake on the spot. A thing that didn’t make sense. Dave didn't normally do that. They were... not close maybe but they worked together well. Looking around he nodded. It was a set up then. Dave had his own agendas and insights and this was probably his attempt to fix things in a room full of people who thought young was synonymous with stupid. Well, people needed to understand that not every other dead person was going to be coming at them at sixty miles per hour.
So, taking a deep breath, a bite of sour apple which he swallowed and then giving a nod, he started in.
“I went to the old pickle packing plant on the far side of Westwood. To get jars and lids, which they had. When I broke in, I found cages. Guarded by a single police office. I killed him, and most of the zombies, then the last one, a man turning into one of the new super-z, a cop, he told me what had happened. That there was a vaccine the government gave out, about three months in. We were missed, thankfully. If you had it, and die, you turn into one of the new kind of zombie. They’re calling it the omega form, which is at least a cool name for them. The police are the ones sending them at us. I ended that, for now. At the end, the cop told me where to find the jars and lids before I killed him. He asked me to do it. The transition looks like it hurts.” He felt bad about that part.
Rachel had to have gone through the same thing. She hadn’t loved him, but he would never wish pain upon her Not like that. Not at all.
Vickie looked at him and grinned a bit maniacally. Like she was stifling laughter for some reason. After a few seconds she spoke, a strange half gleeful expression on her face.
“You... questioned a dying man who was in horrible pain... about pickle jars? And he spent his dying breath telling you where to find them?” She seemed to find it funny when he nodded.
“Yeah, he was probably the nicest officer left on the force. Actually helpful, too. But that's what happened. The point here is that we're being targeted, some of the other groups, too probably. I couldn't tell if it went beyond the local police or not. Could be government involvement, then, it might not. It shouldn't be all the zombies though, from now on. Only the ones who were given the vaccine. We just need to be alert and ready. And get more ammunition. Plus... learn to aim better.” He glanced around the room, expecting nods, or head shakes, something.
People just stared. Well, some glared at least, to break up the overall mood. This was good news, though. They should be slightly relieved. After all, now they knew where the new problem was coming from and that it wouldn't last forever. It wasn't stage two of this thing, just a blip to annoy the good guys.
No one said much and just finished eating. Then got to whatever work they had for the day. Nate waved him over with a soft smile and a rueful headshake.
“Thanks for getting the jars. Lois says they'll work really well. We could use another load of them, if there are any left and it's safe to get them. There's a lot to still put by, even with the cellar loaded to the brim. I wish we had time to get another underground room built before winter.”
That... he shrugged. It would be green logs in a pit away from the house but the harvest was winding down and half the people were just sitting around and waiting for winter already. They had months before the ground froze. He grinned, feeling more or less pleased with the idea.
“Carley can run a log team and have that part done in four days. Burt can walk it out and measure it today. Then all we need is to dig the hole. Everyone can dig. We should have it done in a week. Faster, if we try hard. I’d love to do another hunting trip soon, too. If we can figure out how to dry meat fast enough or anything. Um, so... I wanted to talk to you about some stuff? Nothing that major. Just me whining about a minor annoyance or two.”
The other man sat down and dragged a dining room chair over with his foot, arranging them so that nothing was between them. An open and honest chat between friends, rather than a business meeting. That was the kind of thing Nate had been good at the whole time. The touchy-feely stuff that actually held people together as a group.
Jake used to be good at that kind of thing. He vaguely recalled that, even. Which meant there was no real excuse to not be doing it now. He shook his head and looked away, not letting himself even feel annoyed.
“So, um, last night, when I got in, Heather was in my bed.” The words got raised eyebrows and a half grin from his friend. As if that might, in some world, be a good thing. A friendly one, if not something related to sex.
Jake sighed, smiling a bit, using a rueful expression and shook his head.
“With Randy, her new boyfriend? Not there to get all freaky with me either. They just decided it was comfier than the floor, and since I wasn't at dinner, which meant it would be fair game. Which is probably true most times but right now I'm not exactly feeling charitable toward anyone, for some reason. I'm probably being the jerk here, but I ended up sleeping out on the porch. Tipper wanted to talk when I came down. So... You get me, I’d like that to not happen?”
“Oh. Crap. I see. Well, yes... I'll talk to them about that. People need to respect others' property and place. Things are too tight here to not make a point of doing that, especially with winter coming. We'll all be inside most of the time then and if we step on each other's toes like that, tempers will flare.”
Jake laughed, almost too loud so he slapped a hand over his mouth. Tempers indeed would be an issue, in that case. He hoped not. He'd almost killed them both already, which would have gotten blood all over his mattress. Made holes, too. Jake wasn’t even the worst person there that way, as far as anger went.
Still he spread his hands and nodded, attempting to seem reasonable and not just like one of the whiners.
“Anyway, my real point wasn’t to make trouble for anyone. I think we should get more mattresses and bedding from town, collect up some baby junk and whatever is going to be needed that way. See if we can find more books and some other things. Cards and board games? Also... Um.”
Now he hesitated. This part was hard, mainly because it was stupid. But he didn't want to sleep on the front porch all winter either. Really, he was just so very tired. Not just from the night outside, either. Not that a hard night outside had helped much. Life had just worn him down. The place there had. The people. It was time to make other arrangements. Wasn't that how Nate had put it with the pregnant women.
“I want to see about doing an accounting. Like what we talked about before?”
That got a slow blink, a sleepy looking thing from the other man, like he hadn't had his coffee or wasn't sleeping well lately. Jake sympathized. Taking care of all these people had to be hard work.
For every person coming and suggesting they go and do something useful, there were probably nine who would just whine at him. Being sad or scared, wanting daddy Nate to make the bad things go away for them. The idea of dumping his problems onto someone else had a certain allure, Jake had to admit.
The guy in front of him rubbed his face, a week's beard growth had collected, signaling that it wasn't happenstance but that the man was actually trying for facial hair. More blinking came. Then lying. That was so clear that the man could have held up a sign saying he was being disingenuous at the moment.
“An accounting? Of what? The harvest and food supplies? Lois has one going, it's not done yet, because she's trying to correct for spoilage as she goes. Ammo is low but you pointed that out. We're fine for now but in three months I don't know...”
Nate was trying, not very well, to distract him from his purpose, it was so incredibly clear that even Jake got it without having to think overly hard. He gave the slightly older man a level look and raised an eyebrow.
“My share of everything. Just an even portions for one person, so it won’t hurt anyone for me to take it. If it's enough... I was thinking last night, and maybe I can go get my own place. That way I won't be a bother to anyone here. I don't want to take it all or anything stupid like that but if I could borrow a cart to get it there, that could work. I'd have liked to make some tools and stuff first but I think I know enough to get started now. It will be hard but maybe, if I can get enough from here, and scavenge hard enough, I can make a go of it. Maybe not but still, it's better than being here, even if I die.”
“Um...” Nathanial huffed at him, a puffing sound that Jake took as anger but that didn't seem to be the whole picture. There was a stiffening of the body too, so fear.
After a moment, watching the man go still, Jake wondered if he thought that the plan was to pull a Holsom and try to take so much that everyone else would die. He didn't need that much and a bag of gold jewelry wouldn't help him at all. His regular weapons and maybe a rifle, a bit of ammo, and some food. A wood stove would be good if wherever he found didn't have one already. That wouldn’t come from there, though. An axe. He'd have to scramble to get wood and water in. He could do it. Maybe. Or he'd just die but that would be all right too, really. It was a chance and really, no one could ask for more than that. The other man kept staring at him for about half a minute, then looked away suddenly.
“I'll... have to talk to the others. I... You said you were planning on the spring, I... guess I thought I had time to talk you around, or fix things. This... It isn't good Jake. I can see why you feel that way. You aren’t even the only one. Just... Um. So, yeah. Let me get with some people. We can have a meeting tonight about it. Take a vote...”
Now it was his turn to blink.
“A vote on what? I only asked for an accounting, to make certain I don’t take too much away. I’m not asking for everything I brought in or anything. Just one sixty-eighth of some things, which I’d be using if I stayed here anyway. I suppose people could vote to fight against letting me have anything, which is likely to be what happens if they get the chance but I actually put the work in, so if they do that, well, everyone else will eventually realize that they don't count either. It's a bad plan. They all really hate me. If we vote on it they'll just decide that the work I did doesn't count or something. Especially the women, the ones who were with Holsom... I don’t know why, but they still can't be trusted. Not really. If you want to screw me over, just do it yourself. There’s no need to show me how much the world doesn't want me around.”
Nate shrugged.
“No one has left before that's all. Not openly like this. The only ones to try were Holsom and his harem. Part of his harem. We don't exactly have a plan in place and you've done a lot more than most people. Enough that it would actually be easier if it were someone else. Then we could just figure out their portion and call it even. I'll... Let me see?”
They agreed to do that after dinner. In the meantime he decided to start working on the forge. He had brick for it and a rudimentary chimney, now he just needed something to hold it together. Clay possibly. It would be interesting to see if that might work. He'd try it and see. It meant a trip to the stream in order to get it but that would be fine. He borrowed a plastic tarp, shovel, and some rope, put it on the wooden wagon and set out.
The digging went fast. Yes, the heavy damp clay weighed a lot but it just sat on the surface where he went, so he wasn’t digging a pit to find quality seeming materials. The ground on the bank above was halfway flat, with a couple of rocks to block the thick rubber wheels well enough that he was done in about an hour. As he wrapped the rich red clay in the old worn blue tarp, he saw a tasty seeming deer, just standing there, watching him.
The shot came so fast and naturally he didn't even realize he'd done it at first. The second one, too. A buck and a doe. Meaning his forethought of bringing a sturdy rope and a good knife with him paid off. As he strung them up to bleed them, he noticed the baby deer. Just watching him, instead of running. It wasn’t a real fawn anymore but was still little. A yearling, probably.
“Great. Do I shoot you now too, or just let you go and die?”
It certainly didn't want to close with him, which meant capturing it for later wouldn't work, so he finally killed it. He felt bad about that.
Like he'd shot Bambi or something.
He field dressed them all, making the incisions like Carl had shown him and hurried back as fast as he could. It had taken four bullets in all, because the buck had moved after his first shot took the female. The pile of dead things rested on top of the clay package as he moved, the bumpy ground and grass more noticeable with the now heavy load.
As he pulled in, people came over, looked at what he had and started taking the deer away rapidly. Without asking if it was for them or not, just grabbing and making them disappear. They were to share but no one even said thanks or anything. Or good job. Not even something conversational like, oh, hey, lucky... It felt pointed, even if it wasn’t meant to be. They still said things like that to each other, or Lois and the kids for making dinner each night. Only Jake got left out. Only he didn't count. No one else even seemed to notice that.
Lois looked at the little deer and grimaced.
“I suppose it's another meal. We can have it tonight. People will like that. Not too much meat, not for a group our size. What's the clay for? Are you going to make dishes? If you build a kiln it might work. Pots and what not, too. I hadn't thought about it because we have enough for now but that won't last forever. Things break.”
“Forge. I need something to hold the bricks together.” He said, not gruffly, because her idea of a kiln was a great one, too. He'd need more brick. So he nodded. “I can get more clay, for your idea. That’s good. Pottery. We need to find someone else to do that part, but... Yeah. We’ll need everything, eventually.”
Really he needed his own cart if he was leaving. He looked down at the one in front of him. Wheels, a metal axle and some bolts to hold it together. Maybe he could get the parts and cut some wood for it. Taking another trip into town if he had the time. For now, even if he were leaving, these people would need a forge. He owed Burt that much at least. He went to work and had the base started and stuck it together with a clay and sand slurry. It was well started by mealtime, so he ran to wash and got in about the time the food came out.
The room smelled good. Better than it ever had before, in fact.
The meat wasn't roasted but boiled and tender. There were new potatoes and a small salad to go with it, almost a real meal. They even had a light dressing for the leaves and tomatoes. Like what people used to eat.
After they finished everyone moved into the living room. Almost everyone. Sammi and Ken weren't there, or Yvonne. They were off doing their actual jobs he guessed instead of goofing off with the rest of them. Jake really didn't want to do this kind of thing, anymore. It had seemed a bad plan before but now he wondered if he'd have to fight his way out of the room, given the covert and hostile glares he was getting. Not from everyone but about half the room. Both his weapons were loaded and he shifted the forty-five to his lap, ostensibly for comfort.
No one really seemed to buy that reasoning, in fact several people moved their own weapons around. Copying him. They were correct, so he didn’t bother to glare at anyone, simply smiling back, into the dark looks he was receiving.
They'd set up a hot seat for him, in front of a table, as if he were on trial. There were seven people at the front table, which didn't make him feel any better. There had only been five when they were thinking about killing Yvonne, Justine, and Tracy.
Who sat there didn't help reassure him either.
Burt and Nate were fine. They wouldn't cheat him or set him up to die on purpose. Carl probably didn't care much about him at all, so those people weren't bad. Even Lois would have just divvied up, he thought and let him have an even share of things. She didn't seem to hate him nearly as much now as she used to. But for some reason Vickie, Tipper and Carley were up there, too. What that was about he didn't get.
Tipper wasn’t happy with him at all, and whatever the influence Holsom had over some of their people was still hitting her pretty hard. It also made him uneasy that most of the people were at his back. He glanced around.
“I just asked for an accounting Nate, not a trial. Is this going to be a problem?” He forced himself to stay relaxed. If he had to move, he would, even if he liked some of these people.
He hadn't lived this long to go down in a policy dispute. Not alone at least.
“Nothing like that Jake. Um, I asked everyone to make an accounting of your contributions here over the last six months, like you asked. These are just the people that you've worked with mainly. Let's start with Carley and work this way?”
The girl, a woman older than he was he realized, if only by about five years, cleared her throat and started reading from a little list she had.
“Um, well, he cleared about seven cord of wood himself. Helped dig the saw pit and set that up but the whole push for wood gathering was his idea, at least the part that actually got it going, so how do we even calculate that? If we live through the winter, it's probably thanks to that. He also got me the job of being in charge when I said too many men were doing things here, which was fair of him. I hadn’t expected that.” She sounded bored or maybe a little depressed. That probably came from having to say that a man might be marginally useful. She continued for a while, going over what had been done by him that she knew about, in greater detail.
Then Carl and Lois went.
That all had to do with food mainly, and to his amusement, kitchen duties he'd performed. Including helping to do the dishes after the meals and setting up the work crew for that. Really he hadn't thought anyone had noticed that part. He certainly wouldn't have counted it.
Lois counted the fact that he'd gotten the processing group together too, as if that were something hard. Carl pointed out the hunting, and that the current drive there was his too, and included the new deer brought in, and the cows they had which after all, Jake had found and organized with Randy to manage.
