A Very Good Man (13 page)

  It was a mess, but he got a few hundred seeds out in all, apple and pear. He left the oranges, just because he didn't think that they'd be able to grow them. Maybe not even in a greenhouse. They'd talked about building something like that, but no one had acted on it yet. Not enough glass. Burt said they just needed something clear, plastic tarps might work. It was something to look for and on his little mental checklist.

  Right now he needed large pieces of metal and barrels if he could find them. He couldn't get them that day, but the shelves were all steel, weren't they? The backing things they hung on too. Not perfect, but eventually when they needed metal to work with on the forge it would be a good place to look. No barrels in the back, or rather, there were, a few of them, but they were all plastic. Good for holding water or oil. In fact, one of them was half full. Some kind of cooking oil? It smelled right. That left him torn. Nearly in half for a second. He could, maybe, rig another cart to carry the oil, using two wheels that were sitting on a half broken basket, but that would make the whole thing a lot heavier if he could manage to find a wood stove, those things were all metal he knew.

  “Screw it.”

  Grinning, Jake set to work. It meant stripping wire from the walls, behind the plaster board, to substitute for rope, which took a lot more effort than it sounded like it should, then about an extra half hour to connect the carts. On the good side, once balanced, the metal part with no wheels on the edge of the good cart, it sort of locked into place, making the wiring more of a formality than not. Getting the barrel of oil, a fifty gallon thing, into place, was harder than he'd figured too. Jake kind of regretted not actually asking anyone to come with him now and he hadn't even had to fight yet. Still, twenty-five, maybe even thirty gallons of used vegetable oil could be cleaned up and reused. If not for cooking they'd find some other way to make it valuable. The seeds in his right front pocket kind of smelled and made a damp spot, but that was alright, he'd be soaked anyway as soon as he started pulling the whole contraption around.

  The whole thing was a vast hassle, he realized, as he trudged down the street slowly, tugging on the already heavy cart. Oh well, nothing good came easily. Someone had told him that once. Probably to get him to work harder in school. Maybe it would prove right? It took two hours to get to the house he thought had a wood stove, a huge old thing that turned out to weight a lot more than a few hundred pounds.

  That or he was really weak. He could move it, by working it back and forth on the ground, one edge at a time. He took the metal pipe from the chimney too. Now all he had to do was develop super-powers and he could set the whole thing on top of the cart, miracle up some rope and trudge the whole thing back before dark.

  Yep, that would work.

  Sighing he set to anyway, finding some rope three houses over, going slowly in case he met up with a zombie or two. At least that would break up the day. When he walked out he very nearly ran into the goth girl wearing a long, and ridiculous for the weather, black dress. Jake had been distracted, but found himself looking at the form down the length of his arm black gun in hand, having reacted without understanding why at first.

  The girl went wide eyed.

  “Don't shoot! I live here, but you can take my rope I... Just don't hurt me. You can... do whatever you want to me I, I won't fight or anything, I promise. Please?” She sounded really worried. Ah, well, he did have a gun pointed at her head.

  Jake nodded.

  “I didn't know it was your rope. Can I borrow it? Or... do you have some we could trade for or something? I don't have much on me. I won't trade guns or ammo. I have a little food. I can go hungry if need be. Well and some used vegetable oil and some fruit tree seeds.” He put the gun away looking around carefully. Very few people lived alone anymore and the whole thing could easily be a trap.

  One he waltzed into without even noticing. Brilliant if that was the case.

  The woman, thin and with dead black hair that didn't look natural at all, stared at him for a minute.

  “Um, not to be pushy, but aren't you going to rape me now? Or steal all my stuff? That's what the police did. Take my stuff. One of them suggested rape, but I guess they had more important things to do.” She went from scared to conversational with a speed that probably meant insanity. Then, who was he to talk?

  He shot people in the head for getting too loud for goodness sake. Yeah, that was something to put on the resume.

  “No. I don't rape people, just kill them, and I try not to kill the living ones if possible. I'm taking a wood stove from down the way, if you help me and are saner than you look, I might be able to get you into a place, it's over half women and most of the guys are nice. No rape there at all. If anyone tried, I'd shoot them. Part of my job there I think. It really hasn't come up. You have to work, but we may just manage heat and food this winter. It's a bit of a sweet deal really.” The offer was a little less than genuine in a way. Not that Nate wouldn't take the girl, just that there was no test or even sanity requirement to join up, even though there should be.

  Jake just didn't want to bring home dead weight.

  “Um, alright. I don't have anything better. You aren't cannibals are you? I keep having nightmares about those. Coming to eat me in the night. Regular people, not zombies. I think it's coming in the winter. I don't know when exactly yet.” She smiled and held out her right hand to shake.

  “Heather Morley, pleased to meet you. Call me Heather.”

  “Hi Heather, I'm Jake. Call me Jake.” He smiled and looked at her hand for a long time.

  “We can shake later, after I'm sure this isn't all a trap, alright? I don't want to be rude, since you seem nice enough, but I don't want to tie up my hands if I have to fight your boyfriends or girl gang or whatever. Trained pack of dogs or gerbils.”

  It would have been insulting and crazy to say Back Before, but the girl just nodded and smiled back at him. She wasn't good looking, maybe the type that would have been alright with make-up and better clothes. Plus she still seemed loony and more than a bit nervous. That could be almost anything though, from just having had a gun pulled on her suddenly, to her not wanting Jake to notice her attack kittens sneaking up behind him. It all worked with her expression. He glanced over his shoulder suspiciously, but didn't see anything that looked dangerous. Not yet.

  She followed him to the wood stove and helped gamely enough, which was more important to him than looks. Way more. They nearly dropped it twice, but finally used a stout tree branch in the front yard as a makeshift pulley and got the cart under it well enough. The healing blisters on his hands broke open, because he'd lent the girl his gloves. They were just the cloth garden type. Her hands would have been turned into shreds, he figured. They were soft and white looking, like she'd never done much work at all. Even in the end times, some people still looked like that. He didn't, not now, but he pretty much had, a week back. Now his palms just looked diseased. All cool, as long as he kept them healthy, and could pull the trigger when he needed.

  The girl, Heather, helped. Not so much in added strength, but she managed to get the cart in place and hold the whole thing steady while he tied it together. It was awkward and top-heavy, but that could still work in the morning. There was no way that he'd make it back in time and Jake would be damned if he'd try walking the whole thing back at night.

  Instead he took Heather and they used the last of the light to search some of the houses for usable goods. He could stack them on the bottom of the cart and use it to make the whole thing less unbalanced. Maybe. The wood stove was a giant thing. If it tipped at any point they were going to have to leave it and come back with help and a real cart.

  Tomorrow was going to suck, he knew. Then, that prediction was right almost every day anymore. It was like being gifted with second sight. Prognosis for tomorrow? Suck with extra hurt thrown in and lots of scary. The seven day forecast? More of the same, with extra alienation from women thrown in for good measure.

  Sleeping would be a bad idea and even though the girl invited him to her place, he had her load her few belongings onto the cart and follow him to the first house he'd gone to, since that one had been checked already. It might throw off any friends she had looking to attack him. Of course robbing him of some seeds and a wood stove that they didn't have any use for would be stupid, but most people weren't bright, were they? Heather looked at him in the dying light, when he got out his food and gave her half of it without saying anything. If she was really on his team, she got half. It wasn't a question, was it?

  She nodded and pulled out her backpack.

  “Um, here?” She offered him a can of peaches and a small kitchen can opener.

  Smiling he opened it and handed the can opener back and then the can. She blinked at him, slightly shocked to get it back apparently, and took some of the peaches off the top and handed it back, then loaded hers onto the slice of oat bread that Mary had given him before he left. He did the same, since it seemed like a good idea.

  It was good. Sweet, like cake, or no... pie.

  That of course would be ridiculous, the fog of time and deprivation had clouded his mind, but in that moment canned peaches on oat bread tasted as good as anything he'd ever eaten before. Jake nodded at the girl, who shouldn't have been able to make him out as the light faded.

  “Is that how you get by? Finding things?” Some people were good at it, if she was, they might have a place for her. A useful place. She'd gone out on her own and wasn't a homebody, that was for sure. Unarmed, so not a fighter, but that could be worked around if she were willing. She could go with a cleaning team for instance. Or maybe just with him. Possibly Dave too. It would be an excuse to kill things after all, so why not?

  No reason the kid shouldn't get to do what made him happy.

  The girl moved, a shrug or her hands flying up, he could feel it in the dark, from the way the otherwise still air shifted, but couldn't tell what exactly she'd done.

  “Kind of. I know where things are, if I need them. It sounds crazy, but I do. I just think about it for a long time and I go to them. When I can I mean. I won't go where they are if it's dangerous. Most of the time that keeps me safe. I move a lot. I keep my head down. I... got caught a few times... I thought I could trust them, even though everything inside said to run. I didn't listen. I don't do that now. If I have to I run. It's how I know you're safe for me. You saved me from the cannibals I think. All of us in the end. If I do the right things. That's... going to be hard. I think I'm really going to like you Jake. I'm really sorry.”

  Jake blinked in the dark and took another bite of food. If the girl could back that up in practice it would be cool. Like a super-power. A crazy one and not the kind that could lift wood stoves, but they'd managed that between them. After a few minutes, when the food had been finished, the girl dug through her things, and pulled a well-worn pillow and a shabby but large blanket. There was a bed in the other room so she got up to go use it.

  “I... we can share if you want.” She spoke so softly he almost didn't hear her. Jake shook his head, then realized he'd have to speak to be understood.

  “Thanks, maybe when we get to the house later? Tonight, well, I won't be sleeping most likely. So, you know, no need to bug you. I'll move that chair over there around a bit, it looks comfy enough.” He made his voice friendly. He wouldn't sleep. Not in a new place like this.