A Very Good Man (31 page)

  “Aaaugh!”

  Still nothing, behind him, suddenly, a cacophony of yelling and screaming started as Ken stood, not running at all, readying the axe for battle.

  Brave.

  Suicidal... but so was running in this case. Really it was about the best option. Behind Jake in the field, everyone that could screamed or called out. They spread out too. All holding weapons. Brilliant. It was exactly the right thing.

  The two forms turned and ran at them, bobbing up and down like something sea tossed, hard to aim at from those distances, harder to hit. Jake rushed in. He blanched a little when he saw them, wearing their black outfits, heads pristine and unblemished. They still had their boots though, so these were new ones, police that had been turned. Not ones that he'd already killed. That was good. If the dead gained the ability to regrow heads, they were screwed. At about ten feet they had to stop jumping if they wanted a delicious Jake treat, so he shot the lead, a fairly dapper looking man for a zombie really, neatly trimmed mustache with fairly clean clothes. No rips or anything yet. The center of his face gone now, of course, removing the big, somewhat roman nose he'd had. Jake couldn't make fun of that, the guy could have been his brother in looks.

  The other guy looked like a swat team member and acted like it, rushing into the void his friend left. Hitting his buddy as he fell, causing both of them to roll on the ground for a moment. The one able to found his feet fast, instead of eating his “friend” but not faster than he could be shot. Not once but a lot of times. Eight at least. The thing didn't move after that, not past the small twitches and little movements they all made when their brain was destroyed. People ran out of the house and Ken shrugged, then went back to making big pieces of wood smaller.

  It was a point. A real one, they didn't have time for distractions now.

  “OK, back to work, I'll handle these two and then come back. Don't worry I won't slack off too much.” He called this out to a chorus of teasing, which made him point his gun at them. They were being loud again and not in a good cause this time. They kept laughing, a slightly hysterical thing, but got quieter, which was good enough. He took the time to shoot both of the freaks in the head again and then get the machete they used for head removal, and a face mask. It took a while, but when he got back after burying the things everyone was working again. Jake had to wash up first before he could return to the field.

  He had to. It may have been a mental thing, some psychological quirk or lack of fortitude, but touching food with dirty zombie hands seemed too gross to him by far. Standards had to be upheld after all.

  They came more often then, for about two weeks, nine of them in all. All early in the day, and all of them police of one kind or another. On the good side that meant that at most the cops were down, nearly half the police force now. A lot fewer people to take out before things got back to normal. If any group had to be kept out of power in Westwood, that was the one. Why would they be hitting the house though? The police compound was all the way on the other side of town, even if they were making the super-zombies and throwing them at people, why would so many be coming at them? It might pay to make some visits soon, if they could get through the harvest. If nothing else they should check to see who else was still alive in the other groups.

  It took everyone working full time to do it and in the end they were starting to run out of certain things, like jars for canning, and screens for drying things on. Jose showed them how to tie up some things in the breeze for that. It worked, since the fall rains hadn't come yet. The whole thing took a week longer than Jake thought it would and everyone was exhausted by the end. They still had to find more jars, which meant going to town. Jake smiled when he thought of it. Road trip!

  There was an old processing plant on the east side, away from nearly everything, they used to make pickles there before they closed, four years prior. He'd had a job there for about a week, a temp thing that first made his parents happy, then got him yelled at for not being good enough to be kept on. A month later they closed.

  His parents didn't talk about it after that, but the feeling had always been that his lack of work ethic had caused it.

  Still, he roughly knew where it was and the internal layout. If no one had loosed a dozen zombies in there, maybe something could be found? If not he could check other places. There was nothing for him to do at the moment except working on the forge and even Burt told him that doing that while everyone else worked on food frantically wouldn't go over so well.

  “We can sell going to try for more material for things though. Who all is going with you?”

  All? Jake wrinkled his brow as his head shook no.

  “Just me. I don't think I need anyone else really. Who would I take? Dave? Carl? They're both needed here. Carl needs to get a hunting crew out as soon as we can save the meat and Dave needs to be here, especially if I'm gone for a few days.” Jake didn't spell out why. He tried not to anyway.

  Burt asked, honestly baffled.

  “Why? I mean, I get that it may be dangerous, with the new zombies, but he seems to do alright. He got one of the last ones by himself and helped with another, that's better than anyone but you and Vickie.”

  Ah. Burt was so innocent in his own way. It was touching really.

  “Not for zombies, in case anyone flies off the deep end. Everyone's been pushed too far and some of them might crack. We need to keep someone here that's willing to kill people if they do.”

  “But... he's just a boy Jake. I know he's a tough kid but... isn't that a lot to ask?”

  It was, no doubt about it. Really, if there was anyone else he would have taken Dave with him, out into the wild world where he was happiest. That couldn't be this time though. The rules needed an enforcer around, one that no one would doubt. They wouldn't doubt Dave.

  The second person wouldn't at least.

  He'd have to talk to him, because the kid could easily start taking the rules more to heart than ever before if it was up to him to deal justice. Kill people for sneezing or sitting down for a few minutes in an otherwise full day of work. That sounded about like what would happen if he took too long. For some reason Jake couldn't stop the smile from coming to his lips.

  “You know, if we ever get the world back to normal, I'll probably be put to death for some of the things I've done. Even if the courts agree it was needed at the time. Dave too. It'll be up to people like Nate, and you, even Carley, to put it back together then. You'll have to fight for it, if it comes to that. Once the fighters are gone, they'll probably try to turn the rest of you into slaves. I wonder if the whole thing is just a depopulation effort anyway? If so I pity the people that planned it. The world isn't going to be the same I don't think. If they expect to come out of some hole in the ground in a few years and find sheep ready to slaughter, someone is going to be very surprised.”

  Burt gave him a funny look and shook his head. The older man didn't disagree with him really, or agree, instead he changed the topic as if nothing had been said.

  “I think you should take some people with you, we can spare a few now and people are getting scared, because of the attacks and the rest. If you and a... select crew, are going to get more materials, that would set some minds at ease. Let me run it past Nate? See who's willing to go?”

  The idea made him feel uneasy for some reason. A good one it turned out. Nate came to find him instead of calling him in, since he was building the outer structure of the forge, thin walls and a roof, old plywood they'd had sitting off a ways, it didn't look like much, but might keep the rain out. Some. It really had the look of a boy's backyard fort. But it would have a chimney and a metal “hood” over the fire to send the smoke up and out, so it wouldn't stand and kill whoever tried to work there. He had the frame almost up already and a dirt floor, which the book on it said was traditional and would work well enough. Dirt didn't burn too easily. In fact the metal would be on fire first.

  He kept working as Nate announced, seeming proud of his people, the group that had volunteered. All four of them.

  “Tipper didn't wait to find out what it was about, she just stepped forward, but we know she's solid. Clint, well you know him, but he wants to give it a try, because Justine volunteered too. The last I'm not sure about, Heather, the new girl? She's pregnant, but Lois keeps saying that isn't the same as sick. I don't know. The girl seemed pretty adamant about the idea. Seems to think she can find things for us. It's how she was surviving before she came here, so maybe it's worth...”

  Jake shook his head.

  “No. I'm going and I'm not taking a pack of people I can barely stand being around. Half the reason I'm going right now is to get away from them specifically.” A bit of venom dripped from his voice.

  Nate wrinkled his face and tilted his head meaningfully before stopping and straightening his white and red plaid shirt. It had some little black lines too and short sleeves. Comfortable in the September warmth that probably wouldn't last another two weeks. He looked worried suddenly.

  “Them? I... kind of expected you to have a problem with Clint. The man's an ass. Are you upset with Justine? I... though she's been doing pretty well since she got that second chance, better than before really. Goes out of her way to be useful and takes on extra work almost every day. A lot of people have to be pushed to just show up for their own tasks even if they volunteer. Is there something I don't know there?”

  Jake looked around and tried to figure out how to hold the hood up. From the roof or with a stand on the ground. Maybe both? The metal sheets weren't that heavy, but it would get warm and if it ever fell... well better to prevent collapse with a forge under it. He'd see if he could find some metal bars or poles that would work in town. Pipe maybe? Burt had some, but that was for another well like the one they'd driven, since it had worked.

  He snapped out of it and stared at Nate. They'd known each other since the third day, the second evening really, a runner had come up on the older man and he'd tried to talk it down. Jake had saved him by shooting the thing eighteen times. He really hadn't perfected the head shot yet. That zombie had been Nate's boyfriend, Miguel. They'd been together for two years and were seriously considering getting married, even if it meant taking a trip out of the country to do it. Nate had cried a week later when he told him that. For some reason he never blamed Jake for it though. Of course they hadn't taken his head or buried the body, they hadn't known to do it then. Since then Nate had sex with a couple of guys, but didn't have anyone steady.

  How could Jake explain his stupid problem with the women here? Nate had gotten men, from an extremely limited pool, to have sex with him, while Jake couldn't get anything from the girls, even though they outnumbered the males by a decent percentage?

  He had to try. It wouldn't make a difference, but of everyone here, Nate was the only one that he could really trust not to tell everyone what he'd been thinking about. Not that it mattered. Not really.

  “Justine's fine. You're right about Clint though. I wonder if he was such a whiny little bitch Back Before or if this is just how he rolls now to compensate for the world being so screwed?” Jake shook his head.

  “It's the other two I have a problem with and they both know it.” He explained it all, quickly, a few lines for each. He didn't expect Nate to get it, not having the same issues and all, but the man nodded anyway at the end.