Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2) (14 page)

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Authors: S.P. Durnin

Tags: #zombie humor, #zombie survival, #zombie outbreak, #keep your crowbar handy, #post apocalyptic, #post apocalyptic romance, #zombie action adventure, #zombie romance, #Zombie Apocalypse, #post apocalypse humor

BOOK: Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2)
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“Also, don't forget you will have a
companion. Someone, not just to instruct you in our ways and rules,
but also to ease you through your transition from solitary
individual to active group member. We all understand a new
location, with unfamiliar people, can be intimidating to some,
especially with everything we've all been through in the past
months. With only a few exceptions—” Rebecca gave Benjamin a firm
look. “—all of our new additions have been linked with a companion
upon their acceptance.”

Six pairs of men and women—and one set of
young men, maybe in their mid-twenties—stood at her behest. The
members of each duo looked pleased with their assigned other and,
with the exception of one woman who sat apart from her apparent
counterpart, even went so far as to hold hands. A sneaky suspicion
began worming its way forward from the base of Jake's back-brain to
the forefront of his mind. He took a good, long look, not just at
the seven couples, but at Rebecca's other followers as well. Having
already noted the shortage of male to female of those gathered, he
did a quick bit of mental calculation.

Nine or ten men on the roof, so take away a
person for each of them. Seven more 'companion' couples. The Ice
Cream Duo—Mullet Ben and Jerry—and the four other guards, all of
which might have one themselves except for Ben. One, two, three
kids under ten years of age. Maybe eight or nine other possible
couples. That leaves twenty-seven unattached female members of the
group, all of whom would have different tastes when it comes to
physical attraction. Be generous and say twenty percent of that
would be 5.4 women who'd...

“Oh, you have got to be shitting me.” He
stared at Rebecca's five volunteers. Her five
female
volunteers.

“Whatever's the matter?” Rebecca
inquired.

Jake couldn't believe his ears. “You're not
talking about providing me with a companion, or a friend, or
whatever word you want to use for it. What you're trying to do is
assign me a
mate.

Moo-moo Six-guns shook her head. “Nothing so
crass as that.”

“Bull.”

“We've learned, over the last months that the
dead rising can put an incredible amount of stress on one's mental
state. So much so, that without someone to be close to, many begin
to lose touch with what makes us moralistic human beings. They
begin to draw back from others, become emotionally sequestered.
Even begin to consider other survivors as only objects for their
enjoyment. Some of us have encountered those with such a mindset
before. We refuse to let anyone here become victim to such a bleak
and uncaring mentality, so we put our current rule in place,”
Rebecca explained, clearly attempting to quash Jake's reluctance
over the idea with her faulty and skewed logic. “Everyone must have
a companion.”

“Every able-bodied man, you mean.” O'Connor,
didn't know why he was surprised. Maybe it was due to the fact
that, at least with Rebecca in charge, those within the grainery
unquestioningly made up a matriarchal tribe? “That's what this is
about, isn't it. Pairing all of them up with a willing female?”

His question clearly upset her. “Would not
doing so be more preferable? Everyone here has lost loved ones.
Many have seen them taken and consumed by the zombies. Or worse,
turned into one of
them.
Can you blame them for making a
choice to be comforted and to provide the same to someone else in
return?”

“Only if it's a two-way street,” Jake
clarified. “Forcing folks to pair up is wrong on every level.”

“Think of it this way,” Rebecca tilted her
head slightly to one side, “the men who hold our fence-line: Will,
Carlos, Oliver—even if he'll only use that ridiculous longbow of
his—and the rest are tasked with insuring our protection. Is it
wrong to allow them respite when they're not guarding our home from
the dead outside? I think not.”

“How many of you don't agree with this
practice?” There was no way Jake could buy into something like
that.

Rebecca's eyes roved over those gathered. Her
gaze halted only a few times on one person, which was the obviously
unhappy Deputy Penny Carson, before swiveling once again to
Jake.

“There were some who voiced opinions against
the idea, at first anyway,” she admitted, “but most quickly saw
what a lift it provided to our defender's morale.”

Jake barked out a short laugh. “Yeah. I'm
sure that's the case.”

“Don't judge us too harshly, Jake. Or too
quickly. Our system of survival
works.
In time, you'll come
to realize how beneficial companionship is. Especially in a world
such as ours, now.” Rebecca gave him a tolerant grin.

“You're out of your mind,” O'Connor told her
simply.

“Quite the opposite,” Rebecca told him
easily. “Putting this rule in place, right from the start, enabled
us to form a cohesive society. It allows us to focus on doing
everything we must to not only survive, but increase our defenses,
numbers, and resources, even with civilization currently floating
belly-up on the surface of the pond. Speaking on a global scale
that is. For our part, we're doing far better than we could've
hoped.”

Jake motioned towards the five women arranged
before them. “And that justifies the lineup? What? I'm supposed to
go along and pick which one I want? You've got to be kidding
me.”

“Do you not find any of them attractive?”
Rebecca asked mildly.

Jake shook his head in disbelief. “What in
the blue hell does that have to do with anything? I don't know any
of them! They know even less about
me!
Who's to say that
after a week, one—or both of us— wouldn't want to stab the other in
the throat with a bottle opener?? If you try to tell me every one
of these matches are examples of marital bliss, I'll tell you
you're a goddamn liar. Or an unobservant moron. One of the
two.”

The matronly woman shrugged, giving reluctant
corroboration to Jake's point. “Obviously there is a period
of—shall we say—adjustment with any match, but most have solidified
into firm relationships. I have excellent judgment when it comes to
which members of our community are compatible.”

“Of course you do. God forbid people had any
say about who they boink.” Jake's voice couldn't have been drier if
you'd dropped it in the Gobi, after it consumed a forty pound bag
of Morton's iodized.

“Oh, you'd be surprised. Really.” Rebecca
gave an easy laugh, then turned to the short line of volunteers.
“Ladies. Thank you again, but I can see asking you to volunteer was
unnecessary. Please take your seats once more.”

The women obeyed with a few obviously
disappointed looks in Jake's direction, including one from the
healthy blonde as she plunked down next to Benjamin again.
Mullet-head leaned over and mumbled something in the blonde's ear,
causing her to roll her eyes and give him a disgusted look before
turning away to keep her cleavage from his line of sight. Ben
smiled at Jake and gave him a wink.

Jake scratched the right side of his nose
with his middle finger, not bothering to watch Ben's reaction and
turned to face Rebecca. “Have a change of heart? Great. Who's
letting me out the front gate?”

“Don't worry, Jake, we'll still proceed. I
simply realized who would best do as your companion.” Rebecca
looked towards the back of the crowd. “Penny? Would you come
forward, please?”

Aw, crap.
O'Connor closed his eyes and
cursed the vindictive doom-god that seemed to invisibly ride his
left shoulder, safely out of view. That was the only explanation
for how often his luck turned pear-shaped. He honestly believed
that, being so inept at anything else, his moronic guardian-deity
was the one put in charge of handing out mints just inside the door
of other god's bathroom in the afterlife. He fully intended to
sucker punch the halo-wearing little shit once he made it to the
Pearly Gates, provided he didn't head downstairs to a much warmer
location. Jake reasoned there was a rather good chance his eternal
residence would be made up of many sharp implements, large pools of
hot lava, and shapely but Sadomasochistic she-demons (who had a
thing for bullwhips and razor blades) looking for a “bottom.”

Deputy Carson moved reluctantly through the
crowd, clearly thinking something along the lines of '
Oh,
crap'
herself. Upon passing the front rank, Penny's eyes
flicked back and forth between O'Connor and Rebecca as she stepped
before him. She, like Jake, could predict what came next.

“Deputy, you've proven yourself time and time
again to be an unquestionable asset to our community. Are you
willing to take the next step? Become mentor and companion to our
newest member?” The group's portly matron droned on.

Carson nodded, causing her unkempt hair to
bounce about her shoulders. Even distracted as he was, in another
setting—like say maybe a bar
pre
-zombies rising from the
dead—Jake would've found her quite attractive.

“No. No fucking way,” he said.

“Don't be a dipshit,” she mumbled. “It's not
like I was looking to hook up with the group nubie when I woke up
this morning. Neither of us have a choice. This is just the way
things are so grin and bear it. We'll talk later.”

“Is that your professional opinion,
deputy?”
Jake hissed under his breath. This was getting out
of hand.

Rebecca was smiling so widely, Jake wouldn't
have been surprised if the top of her head flipped backwards like
an old PEZ dispenser as she addressed the gathering.

“Friends, today has been a good day. We've
managed to keep our new home secure, none of the awful creatures
currently roam outside our gates, and—most importantly—we haven't
lost anyone to them for almost a week now. We've also received a
new member for our group. One who possesses abilities for survival
that will greatly—”

“I know where this is leading, and I'm not
going through with it,” Jake insisted quietly. “I'm out of here the
minute everyone's back is turned. There's no way I'm sticking
around with these nut-balls to drink the Kool-Aid.”

Penny's low reply ghosted to his ears beneath
Rebecca's ongoing tirade. “You won't be able to escape with them
watching your every move. Look, are you
sure
about wanting
to leave?”

That surprised him. Jake would've thought the
good Deputy Carson, with a secure position within their little
grainery haven, would've been just fine with ratting him out.

“Damn right I am,” he whispered back.

“Then play along. We'll break out of here in
the morning.” She took his hand as Rebecca began to wind down

“…that being the case, I ask you all join
with me and welcome Jake as a member of our community. He and his
companion, Deputy Penny Carson, will make his initiation official
this evening. Martin? Do you or Wanda have any problems loaning
them your room a-top the head house control tower for the night?
It's the most isolated place I can think of within the confines of
our home, and newly minted couples need a bit of privacy, wouldn't
you agree? I'm sure they'd be more than happy to give the space
back to you tomorrow morning.”

Martin and a middle-aged woman with graying
brown hair, in a thread-bare but serviceable sundress, stood
together. “No problem at all, 'Becca. We can move our cots into one
of the second floor control rooms as soon as we adjourn.” The woman
Jake took to be Wanda nodded beside him.

Penny blanched. “Uh. That's very kind of you,
Martin, Wanda, but there's no need for you guys to give up your
spot. I know you've both been a little jittery due to the last
close call at the gate last month. We'll be fine in one of the
silos. There's plenty of—”

“Now Deputy,” Rebecca smiled, clearly aware
of the reluctance in Penny's voice, “you do want to set a good
example, don't you? It's not as if you'd planned on remaining a
free agent indefinitely.”

“N-no,” Penny replied. “I've become close
with Will and—”

“I'm sure William will understand this is for
the good of the community. Besides, it's not as if he'll be lacking
for companionship himself.” Rebecca looked over Penny's
shoulder.

The dark-haired woman followed her gaze,
directly to the blonde sitting next to Mullet Ben. “Son of a
bitch.”

Rebecca's smile widened further. Now she
looked nothing at all like a PEZ dispenser. If anything, Jake
thought she very much looked like a crocodile. All teeth and
lifeless reptilian eyes.

 

* * *

 

The grounds of the Roger’s Memorial
Psychiatric Hospital were quiet.

Daniel liked the quiet. The voices in his
head were happy, now that there weren’t any other people around.
Well, except for the ugly ones. They tried to eat him if he went
outside, but they didn’t talk so that was okay. He only went out at
night and when he did, he was mouse-quiet. That way, they couldn’t
see him in the dark. Daniel wasn’t afraid of the dark. He always
had the voices in his head to keep him company.

Daniel had suffered from “schizophrenia
brought on by severe childhood trauma” for almost thirty years now.
His mother had tried to kill him with a cast-iron skillet, after
she’d murdered Daniel’s father in his sleep with the same piece of
cookware. Daniel had narrowly escaped through his bedroom window
when he’d found her, still smashing his father’s already deceased
head in with it.

She had made him an omelet the morning
before.

That had been back when Daniel was
eight.

Everyone else had left the hospital, running
away from the ugly ones that came and ate other people, but Daniel
had stayed. He didn’t have any family, or anywhere else to go. He’d
been in Roger’s Hospital for as long as he could remember, and he
liked it there. The last of the staff had locked the outer doors as
they left, since they couldn’t find him, so the ugly people
couldn’t get in. The staff had all been nice, but when they decided
to go Daniel had hidden. Roger’s was his home. They’d been afraid
of the ugly ones. The only thing he was scared of was leaving
Roger’s.

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