Commodity (10 page)

“He isn’t one of the men who attacked me,” I point out.

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.”  Falk shifts, moving slightly closer to me.  I can feel his leg up against mine.  “He needs to be put in his place.”

“‘I will smack your cock-holster closed?’”  I raise an eyebrow at him.

“It got my point across.”

“A little homophobic, don’t you think?”

“No,” he replies, “it has nothing to do with being gay.  It has to do with who is on top and who is on the bottom.  He’s military even though he lied about what he did.  He’s heard it before.”

“What did he lie about?”

“He lied about his service.”

“He wasn’t in the Air Force?”

“He might have been Air Force, but he wasn’t in communications.  That was a crock of shit.  He was special ops, same as Ryan.  That’s how they know each other.  More likely Army than Air Force.”

“How do you know?”

“The way they move, the way they talk and interact with each other.  I can tell.”

I shake my head.  I can’t argue with him on this one; I have no frame of reference.  There is no doubt that Falk is observant.  I could tell that from the moment I met him.

“Still,” I say, slowly shaking my head, “I’m not sure if ‘putting people in their place’ is going to make a lot of friends.”

“I’m not trying to make friends, Hannah.  I really only have the one goal.”

“Keep me safe?”

“Keep you safe.”

“I’m not sure you have to argue with everyone around me to do that.”

“Everything is different now, Hannah,” he says.  “There is no authority anymore.  Survival depends on putting yourself at the top.”

“‘It’s the end of the world as we know it.’” I softly quote lyrics from the REM song.  I look up at Falk as I remember more of the song.  “You’re fine with this, aren’t you?”

“Chaos is my element.”

“Someone has to go talk to them.  We need to know what they’re doing—if they’re friendly or not.”

“Yeah?  And why does that have to be me and Caesar?”

“Because Caesar’s not going alone.  Not after what happened last time.”

“So why don’t you fucking go yourself?”

Falk and Beck are at it again.

It has been four weeks since Atlanta was leveled, and tensions are high.  We settled in at Falk’s apartment complex despite Beck’s complaining, and things are actually going relatively smoothly.  The fire pit in the grassy common area is where we get together as a group, and some of the evenings when everyone was together were quite pleasant.  We’ve found bicycles that make it a little easier to gather supplies since two of them have been modified to drag a cart behind them.

We don’t have much more information than we did when it all started.  The guys like to gather around in the evenings, drink scotch, and speculate, but we really have no idea.  The women, children, and domestic animals are still gone, and we don’t yet know who took them.  A few new people joined us, but they have more questions than answers.  Two newcomers, Christine and Chuck, do a lot of the cooking for the group.  They brought our number to nine.

“Do you need any help?” I ask Christine as I try to ignore Falk and Beck.

Christine, the only additional woman we have come across, and her husband, Chuck, had been in the basement of a nightclub when it all started, getting ready for Chuck’s band to perform later that night.  The building had collapsed above them, and they spent hours digging themselves out.  Christine is a beautiful, voluptuous woman with curly red hair and a contagious smile.  No matter what happens, she manages to smile through all of it.

Chuck is a character, to say the least.  His long hair is braided down his back, and he has a little, white van dyke on his chin with the tip of it dyed bright red.  When we found them, he’d been armed with a compound bow, and Christine kept yelling at him to stop pretending to be Legolas.

The banter between the two of them is the best entertainment around.

“I’m good with the food,” Christine says, “but there are a shit-ton of dishes to be done before anyone can eat.  You could work on those.”

“I’d be happy to.”

From the kettle on the fire, I pour some hot water over the dishes and go to work.

“What’s for dinner?” I ask.

“Well, if Chuck has anything to say about it, we’ll be eating the squirrel he shot out of a tree with that damn bow.  However, he won’t know the difference between that and canned chicken, so we’ll just stick with that.”

“It would be my preference,” I say with a laugh.

“That’s what I get for marrying someone who spent his whole childhood watching adventure movies.  Now he thinks he’s some damn fool elf on a quest for rodent!”

“You know what? I have an even better idea.  Why don’t you just fuck off?”

I look over in time to see Beck shove Falk in the chest, and I brace myself for an actual fight.  They have yet to come to blows, but I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time.

Falk stands up straighter but doesn’t retaliate as Beck spits on the ground at his feet and stomps toward his apartment.  Caesar comes up to Falk and says something quietly to him before heading off after Beck.

“Do they ever shut up?”  Marco comes over to where I’m washing out pots and utensils and starts to dry them with a nearby towel.

Marco and his brother, Sam, were the first to join us after we found Caesar, Beck, and Ryan.  They had been working in a field near a farm outside of town when their mother and two sisters disappeared.  They had not been underground at all, but they had been far removed from any buildings.  Their cattle and chickens had also disappeared.  The two of them had walked all the way into town, looking for answers, and found us.

Marco had become the head of the family when their father passed away two years ago, and at only nineteen, he’s very outgoing and willing to do most any task set in front of him.  Sam, who is a year younger, is a quiet young man with a shy smile.  Though also a hard worker, he rarely says anything, preferring to have his brother speak for them both.

“Only when they stay away from each other,” I say.  “I’ve tried to get them to play nice together, but they just set each other off.”

“They’re too much alike—alphas trying to be the head of the pack.” Marco says.

“Is that what we are,” I ask, “a pack?”

“You have a better word for it?”

“I guess not.”  I glance over at Falk, and he motions for me to join him.  “Can you take over for a minute?  I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”  Marco grabs the dish from my hands and gets to scrubbing while I go to Falk.

“I’ve got to go,” Falk says with a sigh.  “I don’t like the idea of leaving you here unprotected, but Beck just isn’t going to let it go.  Taking you with me is even riskier.”

“Survivors spotted?”

“Yeah, near the university.  Ryan saw them when he was up there.  Four guys, two of them armed.”

“Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine.  I’m more concerned about leaving you here.”

Falk hasn’t let me out of his sight since the day Beck put his hands on me.  In another situation, I would have found his presence suffocating, but it has been good to have someone looking out for me.

“I’m getting better with the handguns.”

Falk raises an eyebrow at me.

“All right, I still suck, but I am better.”

“You have trouble hitting dirt,” Falk says.  “I’m afraid you would just end up shooting yourself.  I’ve always thought I could teach anyone in just a couple of lessons, but you, Ms. Savinski, are quite the challenge.”

“Just trying to keep you on your toes.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Maybe we can try again when I get back.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“How’s your leg today?” he asks.

“It’s all right.  The scar is itchy.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.  My work isn’t pretty.”

“Better than getting infected.”  I smile at him, and he nods before staring me in the eyes.

“You be careful,” he says seriously.  “Find something to do in the apartment, and keep away from Beck.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say to assure him.  “I’m going to help Christine out with dinner.  Beck never comes near the kitchen unless there’s food being served.”

“Stay close to the common area at least.  Most of the guys are going to be busy digging that well, so don’t go off on your own.”

“I’ll stay close.”

He nods but doesn’t look happy about it.

“I’ll be back soon.”

I go back to the dishes.  Marco keeps washing as he hands me a towel to dry and smirks as he nods his head toward Christine.

Chuck has returned with another dead squirrel on the end of an arrow.

“I am
not
cooking that thing.”

“Why the hell not?  I got it for you, babe!”

“Because there’s still a ton of Tyson products in a can,
babe
.  You want to eat that shit, you go ahead and cook it yourself!”

“Aw, come on!”  Chuck sticks out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and leans over so he can peer up into Christine’s eyes.  “I’m providing for ya, babe.  This couldn’t be better unless I found us a cave to live in.  You could even draw on the walls!”

“Aw, darling,” Christine says as she puts down a stirring spoon and takes Chuck’s face in her hands.  “You are my mighty hunter already, and I can draw on the apartment walls with those sharpies you found.  Now get rid of that nasty thing and wash up.  Dinner is almost ready.”

They kiss briefly, and Chuck hangs his head a little as he takes the squirrel-laden arrow back into the nearby trees.  I hold in a laugh as Christine turns back and smiles at me.

“I’ll blow him later,” she announces.  “Everything will be fine then.”

I have to cover my mouth to keep in the giggles.  Marco doesn’t even bother to hold back his laughter.

“Quit your belly-laughing, and grab the paper towels out of the shed.”  Christine points her spoon at Marco.

“I’ll go,” I say with another giggle.  I dry my hands quickly and head off for the shed.

The shed has been completely emptied of yard equipment and is now full of community property.  It’s mostly consumable items like paper products and toiletries, but there are also a lot of cooking supplies and a small barrel of dry kindling.  Caesar has also stashed a decent supply of whiskey on one of the many shelves.

I try to reach up to grab the paper towels, but they’re on the top shelf, and I can’t quite reach.  I look around and find a small step stool in the back of the shed to use, and as I’m putting it back, I hear the door to the shed open.

“Well, hello there.”  Beck smiles at me as he closes the door behind him.  His hair has gotten longer, and he is starting to look more like a gunslinger from the old west than someone from a magazine ad.

“Hi.”  I shove the stool back in its place and dust my hands off as I stand back up.  My intent is to grab the paper towels and leave, but Beck is between me and the lower shelf where I’d put the roll, examining bottles of scotch.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your bodyguard before,” Beck says.  “I barely recognized you.”

My skin crawls.  His words are innocent enough, but the way he says them has me on guard.  There is also the knowledge that Falk would be extremely pissed off if he knew I was talking to Beck.

“Could you please hand me those paper towels?”

“I could.”  He smiles and moves a step to the left, further blocking me, and holds up a bottle.  “You could have a drink with me first.  It’ll help you stomach that bitch’s cooking.”

I want to defend Christine’s efforts, but my desire to just get out of the shed is greater.  The space inside is large, but all of a sudden, it feels much smaller and cramped to me.  I just want out.

“They’re just behind you there,” I say, pointing at the towels and ignoring his remarks.

Beck doesn’t move his gaze from me.

“Just one drink,” he says as he steps closer, effectively pinning me in the corner.

I look down and try to ignore the sweat that begins to gather at the back of my neck.  I swallow hard and inhale, trying to keep myself calm, but I only end up smelling the whiskey that’s already on Beck’s breath.

“You can relax, hon,” Beck says quietly.  “Big brother isn’t here to stop us.”

“I’m not thirsty,” I say.

“You aren’t, huh?”  He moves even closer, and I can feel his heat against my face.  “Well, what are you then?”

“I’m just me,” I respond quickly.  “I’m just getting the…the paper towels.”

“Just you.”  Beck snorts out a laugh.  “What the fuck does that mean anyway?”

He narrows his eyes as he stares me in the face, his nose just an inch from mine as he glances up and down.  My skin still crawls as I stand perfectly still and refuse to meet his look.

“Who are you, Hannah?  I know you look familiar, but I haven’t been able to put my finger on it.  Where do I know you from?”

“We never met before all this,” I tell him.  “Now, really, I have to get back.”

Beck slams the bottle back on the shelf, causing the whole thing to shake.  I gasp and take a step back, almost tripping over the items behind me on the floor.  Beck pushes his body up against mine and grabs my hair at the back of my head.

I gasp and push my palms against his chest, but he doesn’t move.

“Why don’t you tell me who you are, huh?”  He growls right into my face as I close my eyes and try to turn my head, but I can’t move.  His grip on my hair is too tight.  “I know Caesar knows who you are, but he’s keeping his mouth shut. You can tell me, too.  I’m not gonna tell anyone else.”

“I’m not anyone,” I insist.  Panic is surging up inside of me.  In my mind, I can feel hands grasping at me, holding me down.  “Just…let go of me.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“I need to get back to Falk,” I tell him.  I can hear my heart pounding, and my throat feels like it’s closing up on me.  “He’s waiting for me.”

“Falk went off to check up on those survivors,” Beck says.  “He’s not here.  Now why don’t you just go ahead and fess up, baby?  You know more about what’s going on than you’re saying, don’t you?”

“I have no idea what’s going on!”  I twist, yank my hair from his grasp, and duck under his arm.  He stumbles forward, nearly taking the shelf down.  I turn to face him. “You’re drunk!  Now stay the fuck away from me!”

I yank open the door, listening to him laugh as I run out.  I scamper up the stairs to the apartment, forgetting all about the paper towels.  Once inside, I race to the bathroom and close the door behind me.  It’s dark inside, and though I know there’s a battery-powered lantern on the counter, I don’t switch it on.  I just sit on the toilet with my head in my hands, shaking and trying not to cry.

*****

Just as the sky gets dark, Falk and Caesar return with four new additions to our group.