A Very Good Man (16 page)

  Killjoys.

  “No, if we kill people just for talking about leaving then everyone will panic. We need to have rule of law, even if the laws are harsh sometimes. We shouldn't kill if we can avoid it.” Nate's face was lit only by the pale moon above, it was waxing, so it gave more light than a few nights before, but wasn't at that full moon brightness that seemed almost like a cloudy day so far as what could be seen.

  Jake nearly laughed. As if killing could be avoided here? The whole world had become death in an eye blink already. Someone was dying in this. It was the new rule, wasn't it?

  Turning he went back in to bed, since the dark wouldn't be going away for several hours. Holsom and most likely the women with him, would be too afraid to try and leave in the dark. Jake kind of was, so he didn't blame them, but it meant they got a little time. Nate could watch first. That meant little to no sleep for the other man, but Jake felt like going to sleep already, his eyes heavy and closing nearly on their own. If he didn't go lie down, he'd probably fall asleep right where he stood. He found his way to the room he shared with everyone and fell into bed quickly, dozing almost as soon as his eyes shut. A while later, minutes probably, something shifted on his mattress, at first he thought Nate had come to wake him, but a soft female voice whispered in his ear. Heather.

  “I can't... I'm not ready to have sex, not after... You know, I've been raped a few times. It's too hard... Maybe later? Can I just sleep here, with you? I mean, I'll go if you want. I don't... I like you but... there are things in the way for now. The past and future and...” Her voice sounded tense and ashamed.

  Jake murmured, “sure”, a little groggily and went back to sleep. Having been raped was at least as good of an excuse not to sleep with him as any of the others he'd heard. She might be too young for him anyway. Well, no loss and he had some mattress space to spare, compared to most of the others, some of whom just curled up on the bare carpet, not having gone to get their own beds yet. They'd need more of those before winter too, just to get people off the floor. That thought carried him to sleep.

  Besides, he realized, if she was willing to sleep next to him like this, maybe that meant she liked him a little? She'd said so, but that could have just been a friendly thing right? Or not. Sixteen wasn't that young and if she could ever feel comfortable with sex again, it might work out. He drifted off happy enough with the thought, since it was nearly like hope, in a way.

  Heather shook his shoulder a little, causing him to wake with the forty-five in his hand, suddenly, adrenalin pumping hard. A soft voice came, lips pressed to his ear warmly, softly. Enough to get a reaction from him, even if he couldn't have sex with the girl yet for her own peace of mind. Not that it took much work. They didn't even have porn anymore. A girl's lips on his ear was a huge deal.

  “Something's coming.” She whispered, “out front, from the right.”

  Ah. Well then. Jake just got up and made sure he had both his weapons. The girl may be insane, or psychic. Or both. It didn't matter. Ignoring a warning could get a person killed. He told her to stay put, and moved off down the stairs quietly. It had to be about time for him to wake up anyway. To the front of the house, off to the right? The armory in the cellar. The little one on that side of the big house. They had two, a much bigger one out back where they planned to store a lot of the fall harvest. He walked carefully and tapped the dozing Carl on the shoulder softly, speaking before the man could shoot him.

  “Front. Armory. Maybe. New girl warned me.”

  It would probably be nothing, but Carl got his people around anyway. They were supposed to stay up all night, but in the pitch black that could be hard to do. It was generally enough for the guard to just be dressed, armed and dozing anyway. They moved as a unit, but sloppily, Carl and the old vet moved well, their screamer, a woman that held her shotgun nervously and the other hunter, a guy about Jake's age, though bigger and stronger looking, moved like someone had tied water buffalo to his feet. Carl signaled those two to go and cover the perimeter while the remaining three men moved on the armory.

  It didn't take long to get the picture.

  Two forms stood outside the cellar door, and a lot of noise came from within, things being loaded into a bag or box probably. If they were in there, then they were armed. Jake already had the nine in his hand and pointed to the two in front. Women probably.

  The old vet, whatever his name was, Barry, Jake remembered suddenly, nodded and moved in alongside of them, visible in the pale light, but the women didn't look alongside the house as the man took the first one from behind, a hand over her mouth. The second one got half a scream out, which got the people inside to boil out, weapons ready.

  Jake shot them.

  There were three of them, he couldn't tell who they were, so he used zombie protocols, taking them in the head. One of them got a single round off, as they came up the stairs. Someone groaned, a sharp sound followed by moaning, the whole thing only took about a half minute, and most of that was figuring out if anyone else was left in the armory. There was; a scared older woman, one that had never been helpful to Jake at all. It was tempting, the thought of just killing her then and there, taking out another useless eater, but he held off for a moment, knowing that Nate and the others wouldn't like it if he did.

  Plus, it would just be wrong. She couldn't fix herself if she was dead, could she?

  No one came out of the house or anything, so Jake and the rest waited, just in case there were more bad guys coming. A few minutes later a familiar noise could be heard, a rolling sound. The large work cart. Pulled by a large form that he couldn't make out in the dark, the raw steel glinting in the moonlight as the wheels squeaked a bit. They needed some grease or oil. Jake would look into that with Burt before they used it to get more wood. Maybe they could use the cooking oil? In the back there was a nearly full load of something.

  Jake was willing to guess it wasn't wood.

  Carl shot first, but his shotgun, the preferred weapon of night duty, didn't hit the man who was trying to run for the road. Holsom was too far away. He'd heard the shots and was just taking off, leaving his girls behind.

   What a creep.

  Oh, the women deserved it, but Jake wouldn't have left them if they'd been on an operation with him. Not like that. The shotgun couldn't reach the cart, so Jake tapped Carl on the arm.

  “We can't afford to lose the cart. I'm going after him. Don't shoot me.” He said, his voice sounding light. Almost happy. He finally had a chance to kill Holsom and no one could really complain at him for doing it. Yay. It was the best thing that had happened in a long time. His turn to feel like it was Christmas.

  Maybe things were looking up?

  The chase didn't last long. Unencumbered Jake got to the cart about the time it made the road. Holsom was wheezing a bit, the whole thing being too full for one person to really run with. Jake didn't ask him to stop, just started firing. At first nothing happened, but finally the man slipped out from under the long front pulling bar and fired back at Jake, having gotten a handgun already. Nothing hit, so he shot back as the man ran, firing back at him the whole time. A burning sensation creased his right arm, but that didn't stop him from giving chase for a ways.

  When you fought, you got hurt. It was almost a rule. He'd learned the hard way not to pay too much attention to things like that early on. Mainly by example from others, most of who died, clutching themselves instead of attacking.

   Finally the man made it to the bushes that lined the far side of the road and vanished. If running noisily through the night counted as disappearing that was. Arm burning or not, he couldn't afford to leave the cart, just in case Holsom came back for it. He worked himself into place under the bar and slowly, far more so than the large man had managed, got it turned around and going back to the house.

  This time there were people outside, Carl had called out the situation apparently, and since no zombies were around, it didn't matter much if people helped to secure the remaining prisoners. They hustled them into the front room and tried to treat the one that had been shot on the floor by candle light. The cart got left out front, but Vickie and her crew were on that fast, securing it like it had been loaded with gold. Or food. No one looked at him for a while, until he just sat on the floor. Blood loss probably.

  Jake crawled to the box of makeshift bandages and tried to wrap the wound, but kept passing out for some reason. Going out with zillions of little shining black and blue dots rushing in from the sides of his vision, making everything a tunnel. After about five tries, feeling a bit like he wanted to throw up the whole time, he got it wrapped well enough and let himself lie down on the hard wood floor. It was clean at least, where his head lay. It got swept daily he knew and that really seemed to make a difference. After first light he felt a boot against his ribs. Gently, a mere nudge, not a kick. Probably not a woman then. Opening one eye he looked at the person doing it, Vickie, and groaned a little. Heh, it was a girl and not even taking advantage of the fact he couldn't really fight back at the moment. Go figure.

  “Mom, I don't want to go to school. I don't feel good.” He said, very softly. Vickie grinned.

  “He's alive. I don't know if he's being a smart-ass or delirious though.”

  Jake sat up and immediately felt like vomiting again. Blood loss always did that to him. He waved at her with his right hand slightly and then started dry heaving. It hurt, but that wasn't a huge thing. Everything else did too. When he stopped, taking shallow breaths for a while he looked at the tall cool blond, lines that hadn't been there originally showed on her face from stress and having been woken up by gunfire.

  He fought a grin onto his own features and took a deeper breath, still fighting for control.

  “Smart-ass mainly. I need some water.” Something to eat too, but he wouldn't ask for that. They didn't have enough for him to be taking extra to try and make his tummy feel better.

  A cup came to his hand a minute later, brought by Ken who looked scared and worried. After a minute the boy whispered at him, so softly that Jake almost though he imagined it at first.

  “We should have killed that bastard while we had the chance.” He said, sounding angry. Livid was more like it.

  Jake nodded back, “Hell yeah we should have. Thanks for the water. Say, Ken, could you go and get an inventory of what's in the cart? Then it needs to be unpacked, if it hasn't been already, we'll need it for getting the wood later. Maybe... see if Carley will help you? She's good and no one will doubt an accounting done by the two of you.”

  The silent boy nodded as if him doing all that made perfect sense. Maybe to the kid it did? He was obviously smarter and more “in charge” than about half the adults here. That was actually a real point, Jake decided. Whatever the thought process he moved off with a sense of purpose as Jake sipped slowly from the large plastic tumbler of cool well water. When it was done he tried to stand up. That took a few tries and he needed to use the wall to keep himself upright at first. Being weak bothered him. Weaker than normal, he meant. Still, the bandage didn't look that red, only half of it soaked with his blood.

  Vickie walked over and pointed at it.

  “Life threatening do you think?” She said softly, not laughing at him, but a small smile on her face.

  “Nah, flesh wound. Nothing to worry over. Unless I'm wrong. I hate lethal flesh wounds, don't you?”