A Very Good Man (33 page)

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Authors: P. S. Power

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: A Very Good Man
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  “Who's there?” Tipper said.

  “Jake. I'm alone.”

  The door opened and the shadow stepped out of the way. If she gave him a look, he couldn't tell, from the other side of the room there was a chuckle.

  “Get what you went to find?” Dave asked, his voice pleasant.

  Jake smiled and spoke calmly, “A full load of jars and lids for them, large ones. I also found the source of the super-zombies and took out the next attack. What did you do with your day?”

  Tipper whispered at him her voice hard.

  “Funny... I'm sitting here waiting for you all day and you come back saying crap like that? You were supposed to take a team not go off on your own like a fool. Do you think this is a joke? I was worried sick.”

  Taking a deep breath, Jake stopped himself from shooting her. She didn't have a right to be worried about him, did she? But that didn't mean she wouldn't play at it. The truth was he did better on his own. Not all the time, maybe, but better without her at least.

  “Tip, two things, first, I'm not talking to you other than to say this and second, no shit, I really found the source of the super-zombies and took out the next attack. I had to in order to get the jars. I'll tell Nate in the morning and he can tell you if he thinks you can be trusted with the information.” OK, it wasn't nice and didn't sound happy, but what did she expect?

  Happiness and roses?

  Besides she was riding him and had to know that would push buttons right now. It was like she was trying to for some reason, maybe trying to force a fight so that she could kill him? In the dark though, if he started it, she probably wouldn't win. Dave chuckled, but lately he seemed to think everything was funny. That or he was laughing because it was awkward.

  Carefully, slowly and as quietly as possible Jake made his way to the stairs and then up, they creaked under him slightly as he moved. He tried to hold it down, a lot of people freaked now if they woke up to hear the sound of heavy walking. Zombies kind of stomped, so it drummed into people's minds after a while. The first room didn't have a door anymore for some reason, so he worked his way in slowly along the front wall, over to his corner, careful not to step on anyone in the dark. He slipped the forty-five under the edge, but it felt funny. It was his mattress, in the right spot, but someone slept on it. Two someones.

  What the hell? Jake didn't remember leaving anyone in his bed, and if he hadn't, there shouldn't be anyone there at all. He froze for a second, checking to make sure he had the right place and hadn't gotten confused in the dark. The wall was right there, and the corner when he reached out, so it was his space for sure.

  One of the forms stirred, then the other, a male voice spoke softly, a whisper.

  “Is someone there?” It said.

  Jake didn't really recognize it, familiar but not well known. That happened a lot to him here.

  “Jake. You're in my bed?” He really didn't want to be a dick about it, but it literally was his bed, he'd carried it from town on his own back and everything. He hadn't even been gone for a single night, it seemed a little premature to be taking his stuff and presuming he was dead wasn't it? Really it wasn't even late yet, an hour past nightfall? A few days at least would have been polite, to see if he was really not coming back.

  “Oh, hey man.” The voice said, as if that explained something.

  “Jake?” The other form said, Heather, ah, the first voice locked into place then, Randy.

  Before he could ask what the heck they were doing in his bed the girl explained, her voice soft, breathy and sleepy sounding.

  “I couldn't sleep on the floor, my back hurt, so we came in here when you didn't come back after dinner.”

  Well that made sense, just taking his stuff as if entitled to it. Rage grew inside of him. It wasn't enough to just go and sleep with some other guy after getting him to back off as if that didn't matter, as if he was the problem, but she did this now? Just to rub it in his face? Did she think being pregnant made it alright? If she didn't want to sleep on the floor why didn't she send her boyfriend into town for a mattress of their own? It wasn't that dangerous after all. Jake had done it. He took the forty-five from under the mattress and contemplated killing them both.

  Then he did it again several times, breathing a bit hard, really feeling like doing it, almost pointing and pulling the trigger. He rose up carefully and walked out of the room without a sound. Taking his bed wasn't a killing offense. Just annoying. They were going to have words about this in the morning. He went to the living room, but Tipper tried to talk to him about what was wrong.

  “All women are bitches. Selfish and entitled. Evil. And you're just like all the rest. Is that wrong enough for you? Worse, before I even get outside you'll probably rationalize it as being my problem, if you haven't already. After all, how dare I expect anyone else in the world to actually care about someone like me, right? After all, no one feels that way about me. Leave me alone.” He went out the door and sat on the porch, not waiting to see if she bothered trying to say anything.

  Oh, he wasn't being fair to her. Maybe. But then, it really didn't matter anymore did it? Jake wasn't even allowed to have his own bed here. It was like saying he just didn't count at all.

  The night air was too cool to be comfortable and tired as he was, he couldn't do more than doze. An owl, of all things, kept hooting not too far away, every time he let his eyes close. Finally, as daylight came, he got up and got some water, cleaned up and found his other set of clothes, which were clean and weren't even being worn by someone else yet, which would have been awkward to say the least, so he changed after a more complete scrubbing. Tired but clean. That would do, right? Better than tired and dirty at least.

  He found Nate before he looked fully awake. Nothing he had to say needed to hit the guy this early, did it? Deciding not, he smiled at the man.

  “Hey, could we get together after breakfast? I have some things from town, those jars I went for and some other news.”

  Nate waved at him, yawned and muttered something that sounded a little like yes. Jake considered what to say for a moment and let it go. He could talk about the other stuff in a while. No need to rush. Not anymore.

  Not if he was just going to be responsible for himself and forget about these other people.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

A zombie crawled out of the woods before he went in to eat, a meal of fruit and vegies that wouldn't have satisfied him at all a year prior, but now seemed a feast. Jake couldn't wait to get to it, but the crawler had to be dealt with.

  Something wasn't right though, the dead man was... familiar? They'd met before. Not when the man had been alive either. Blinking he realized that the half rotted face and bullet ridden old suit was indeed something he'd dealt with already. Nate's old boyfriend Miguel. Crap. They really just didn't have a clue about things back then at all, did they?

  What were the odds? He wondered as he took the head and carted the body off, away from the property by a good ways. Thousands to one at least. The man could have crawled off in any direction from town. The head had popped off easily, and even though the mouth moved in a biting motion still, most of the teeth were gone.

  Not a huge threat.

  That meant that everyone else sat at the table eating already and stared at him when he walked in, damp from having washed up for the second time that day. After a few moments it started to make him uneasy. Jake explained softly.

  “Crawler. I took care of it.” Without wasting a bullet even.

  At the rate they were going through them, bullets, they'd have to find a huge stash of ammo to get through the winter. The problem there being that they just didn't have any left in town. People may not have grabbed mattresses, or toothbrushes for that matter, but ammo had gone fast at first. Everyone just nodded quietly and went back to eating. A few kept looking at him, but then that happened a lot, scared or angry glances when they thought he couldn't see them.

  Just another thing he wouldn't miss about the place when he left.

  The food was great, basically berries and sour apples today, not that filling maybe, but the flavors were incredible. He'd never gotten how good food really was before all this. Pretty much the only good thing left in the world, made more special because it wasn't always available. That and not being too uncomfortable.

  Dave smiled at him, shook his head a little and leaned in to whisper.

  “Crawler? I hate those things. They're no fun anymore. The new zombies aren't too bad, at least they move around a little and present a challenge. Are you going to tell us all about that today?” He went into a teasing little kid mode then, playful and light. If Jake hadn't known better firsthand he might have thought that Dave was a real boy and not just a killing machine.

  “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? Why? Dave didn't normally do that. They were... not friends 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. Well, people needed to understand that not every other dead person was going to be coming at them at sixty miles per hour.

  He explained quickly, about the vaccines, the police and their buddies being the ones to get the shots for Westwood, thank god, and how he had a load of large jars in the cart outside. 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 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, probably the nicest officer left on the force. Actually helpful too. But that's what happened. The point being, we're being targeted, others too probably. I couldn't tell if it went beyond the local police or not. Could be government involvement, might not. It shouldn't be all the zombies though. 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. It 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 be 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 head shake.

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