by Bible, Jake
“I don’t,” Elsbeth says. “Nothin’ to talk about.”
“Yeah, there kinda is,” I say, and hook a thumb over my shoulder. “Two things, actually. They’re both in that front room sans skin. That’s worth talking about, in my opinion. Anyone else think so?”
“Just tell us what’s going on,” Stuart says.
“I’m saving your asses,” Elsbeth replies. “That’s what’s going on. It’s what’s always going on. Everybody gets into trouble, and Elsbeth has to save your butts. That’s how this works. I don’t mind. I’d get bored if Long Pork wasn’t always getting captured or talking us into a fight or-.”
“Hold on, hold on,” I interrupt. “Talking us into a fight? I never talk us into a fight. I usually talk us out of fights.”
Elsbeth shrugs. “Then why are we always fighting?”
“Because bad guys won’t leave us alone,” I reply. “It’s not my fault the evil villains of the world are attracted to us like fucking shit magnets.”
Elsbeth shrugs again, but doesn’t say anything. Critter and Stuart look at me, then back at Elsbeth. She still doesn’t say anything, just sits there with her arms crossed. After a few minutes, Stuart stands up and claps Critter on the shoulder.
“Let’s find Rafe and make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep on watch,” Stuart says. “We can check on the folks upstairs too.”
“I ain’t no canny babysitter,” Critter says. “You all put me in charge, so I’m gonna use some of that power to announce I’m going to bed. I think there’s a nice, dark closet I can cozy into. Don’t wake me until we’re ready to leave.”
“Maybe we’ll leave without you,” I say.
“Wouldn’t that be my lucky day,” Critter replies as he and Stuart walk out of the kitchen.
“I think he means that,” I say. “Not very nice.”
“He always means it,” Elsbeth says. “He thinks he’s better off alone. He’s wrong, because he’s old and getting slow, but he likes to think he’s still young. I’ll miss him when he dies.”
“Jeez, El, way to bring it down,” I say.
“Bring what down?” she asks.
“The mood,” I respond. “Not cool to talk about Critter dying. Sure, he’s older than everyone, but he’s a survivor. He’ll probably outlive us all.”
“Not all of us,” Elsbeth says, her eyes filling with sadness. “I’ll probably see everyone I love die first.”
“Okay, okay, time fucking out, El,” I say, and make a T with my hands. “Where is this all coming from?”
“I can’t tell you,” Elsbeth says. “Not yet. Right now you are safe. They won’t touch you.”
I decide to take a different track, and not play the back and forth game. Gonna have to circle around and see if I can get answers a different way.
“El? Where did you go? What where you checking on when we took off without you? And don’t say you were tracking Kelvin’s shotgun brigade. I don’t buy that anymore,” I say. “Not with those skinned corpses in the other room. Just give me some clue, okay? I’m your friend, remember?”
“You’re my family,” she says, but without her usual insistence and enthusiasm.
“Right, I’m your family,” I agree. “And family is honest with each other.”
“Not all family,” Elsbeth says. “Some lie. Some keep secrets. Some change.”
“You just described the human race, not just family,” I laugh. “People are who they are, and yes, people do change, but it’s what’s in their hearts that counts.”
“What if they have no hearts?” Elsbeth asks. “What if they are hollowed out, and can’t return to the people they were? What if they are nothing but empty robots coming to kill, kill, kill?”
“Um, we aren’t talking about us, are we?” I ask. “I mean, the Stanfords are a bunch of badass motherfuckers, but I don’t know if I’d say we’re kill-kill-killer robots badass. That might be overstating things.”
“Not the Stanfords,” Elsbeth says. “That’s not who I’m talking about.”
“Want to clue me in?” I ask.
“I can’t,” she says. “Not yet. Don’t ask me anymore, Long Pork. It hurts my head to keep it all in.”
“Okay, no problem,” I say. “I certainly don’t want to hurt your head.”
I glance towards the kitchen door, my mind on the bodies in the other room.
“The only problem is I can’t just forget about the naked corpses,” I say. “Stuart, Critter, and everyone else are expecting me to get some answers on those. You have to admit, you’d be curious if you were in the dark.”
“I’d beat the answers out of the person that knows,” Elsbeth shrugs.
“Yes, yes you would,” I nod. “But I can’t really do that to you. So, help me out, and give me something to work with, El. Anything.”
Elsbeth stares at me for a very long time. Those eyes of hers just drill right through me, like she’s taking an X-ray. It weirds me the fuck out, but I know El is just being El. So I wait.
“It’s a message to me,” Elsbeth finally says. “It is for me to see, and me to deal with.”
“Yes, but who are the people?” I ask. “Why did they get skinned?”
“Unlucky,” Elsbeth shrugs. “Just like the other ones.”
“The other ones? The ones back at the farmhouse by the barn?”
“Yep,” Elsbeth nods. “I tracked the RVs, found those bodies too. There will be more. Probably lots more. Until I do what I have to.”
“And what’s that?” I ask.
“What I always do,” Elsbeth sighs. “Kill them all.”
“You realize you haven’t really told me anything, right?” I ask. “You say the message is for you, but if you’re with us, then the message is for everyone. You don’t get to go solo on this. So, I’m going to ask for one favor, alright? Just tell me who you are going to kill. What all are you talking about?”
Elsbeth does her X-ray stare for a good five minutes. I can almost see the gears turning in her brain. I wait. Nothing else I can do. When Elsbeth needs space to think, you give her space to think.
“I’ll tell you,” she says. “But you have to promise that...”
Rafe comes skidding into the kitchen, his eyes wide and his cheeks bright red from being out in the cold. His hair and clothes are covered in snow.
“We have a big fucking problem,” Rafe says.
“Yeah, you’re interrupting us,” I snap.
“No, dipshit, a bigger problem,” Rafe says. “Stuart sent me to get you and Elsbeth. You’ll want to come outside.”
“Is the storm getting worse? It seemed like it was clearing up before,” I say.
“No, it’s getting worse, but that’s not the problem,” Rafe replies. “Just come see.”
“We finish talking right after this,” I say to Elsbeth. She just shrugs.
Dammit, I was so close. Fuck.
We get up and follow Rafe out through the front door. I keep my eyes averted from the skinned corpses and the bloody message. What am I saying? No, I don’t. I totally peek. Yuck.
We get out onto the front porch, and the cold hits me like a freight train. Rafe is right, the storm is getting worse. The snow is blowing sideways, and it’s like a sheet of white only a few feet from the porch. Jesus, this house will be buried before the morning comes.
“Fuck,” I say. “We’ll have to dig out.”
“Shhh,” Stuart scolds, then points.
It’s night, but the snow is doing that reflective light thing it does, and there’s this semi-blue glow to everything. I squint into the dim light and try to figure out what has everyone so freaked. All I see are a bunch of snow covered bushes out in the yard. Nothing else.
Then I realize the snow covered bushes are moving. At first I thought it was an optical illusion because of how the snow is coming in sideways. You know, like when you are parked, and the car next to you pulls out and makes you think you’re moving? That.
“Zs?” I ask, huddling close to the
others so they can hear me over the storm.
“Yeah,” Stuart replies. “Shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.”
“Why isn’t the snow slowing them?” I ask. “Shouldn’t they be stuck until the sun comes out? There’s no way their muscles can be working right in this.”
“They ain’t runnin’ hurdles, Short Pork,” Critter says. “They’s just shuffling along.”
“But that shouldn’t be possible either,” I say. “The snow is so deep they should be falling over on their faces.”
“No shit. I went to take a piss around the corner, and almost walked right into the herd. It’s like something is driving them,” Rafe says. “Like cattle. Something is making them keep moving.”
“Yes,” Elsbeth says.
We all look at her.
“Care to elaborate?” I ask.
“No,” she replies.
We stop looking at her. Elsbeth really is not helping her cause tonight.
“Maybe they’ll pass by, and we can still get out of here in the morning,” I say.
“Maybe,” Stuart says. “Maybe not.”
“Okay, well as long as that’s settled,” I smile. “I think I’ll go back inside and try to feel my face again. This has been fun.”
“Any chance I can keep watch from an upstairs window?” Rafe asks. “I really don’t want to be out here.”
“No need to stay out here,” Stuart says. “They can’t hear or smell us in this. We’ll keep an eye on them, and stay prepped. If they change course and decide to come for a visit, then we’ll need to make a run for it. With that many, this house won’t last more than a couple of minutes. Storm or no storm, we’ll be safer on the run than trapped in here.”
“We’ll all stay upstairs,” Elsbeth says. “Watch every side. Better views up there. We see a break, then we go. May not get many chances.”
“I’ll tell the others to gather up whatever clothes and blankets they can find,” I say. “This cold will kill us as fast as the Zs if we have to skeedaddle.”
“Skeedaddle,” Elsbeth giggles.
“I live to keep you smiling,” I say.
“Inside,” Stuart says. “We sleep in shifts. Try to get as much rest as possible.”
“Sleep is good,” I say. “I call firsts!”
“It’ll keep him quiet,” Critter says. “Finally.”
NOT A LOT OF SLEEPING happens.
The herd of Zs moves in closer and closer, tighter and tighter around the house. Instead of being able to take shifts so some of us can get some sleep, we all have to stay awake and watch out the windows, hoping for the Zs’ numbers to slack so we can make a break for it.
Of course, this plan isn’t exactly unanimous. The cannies would all rather just stay. I don’t blame them, it is nice and toasty in the farmhouse now that the wood stove has really kicked in. There are those huge vents in the floor above the kitchen so the heat from there moves upstairs. It’s a hard sell to say that going outside in the storm is better than curled up by the grate with some warm tootsies.
The thing is that more and more of the Zs are starting to get a little curious about the farmhouse. Most of them are annoyed it’s in their way. Those are the spoiled Zs that think the whole world should be paved over and flattened for their ease of movement. Kind of like how all the retirees and developers felt about Florida, pre-Z. But a few of the Zs keep turning their heads and checking out the farmhouse like it may hold a little snack or two. Which it does.
Those are the Zs Stuart watches like a hawk.
“Six more,” Stuart says, perched by a window facing east.
It looks like the herd is moving from east to west. Kinda like the Westward Expansion of the 19th century, just with less wagon trains and slightly more rotten body parts falling off.
“Four out here,” Rafe says from a different window. “Two have stopped and are standing by the front porch.”
“Let me see,” Stuart says. He moves to Rafe’s window and studies the Zs for a minute. “They’re moving on.”
“They always do,” Critter says. “Storm’s too strong for them to know we’re in here.”
“They’ll know,” Elsbeth says. “It may be a while, but eventually they’ll know. It just takes one.”
“She’s right,” Stuart says. “Once one gets curious enough to try to make it up the porch steps, then plenty more will follow.”
“Plenty more,” Elsbeth nods. “It’s what they do.”
“Yep, it’s what they do,” I say. “Thanks for the cheery reminder, El.”
“No problem,” she smiles. “I like to help.”
Critter cackles at that, and half the cannies hiss at him to shut up. He doesn’t take kindly to their hissing suggestions, so he starts bitching at them. In seconds the room erupts into a bicker fest. Awesome.
“Shut the fuck up now,” Stuart growls. “Or I toss all of you out into the Million Z March!”
“That’s a good one, Stuart,” I smile. “That’s a Jace worthy joke.”
“Jace? You shut the fuck up too,” Stuart snaps. “This is fucking serious. Not only do we have to deal with the Zs out there, but we have to figure out where we’re going to go when we do see a break in the herd. We can’t just run and wander. We need a direction, a goal. I’ll be willing to bet there’s another farmhouse somewhere, but where? These pieces of land can be hundreds of acres. We may have to hike for miles before we find another place to hunker down.”
“We’ll go to the bus,” Elsbeth says. “I left it about three miles up the road behind a stand of trees. I covered it with brush so no one would see it. I bet it’s just a pile of snow now. I can find it, though.”
Raise your hand if you think all eyes turn to Elsbeth and stare at her with a healthy dose of “What the fuck?”
I hope all hands are raised.
“I got this,” I say before Stuart explodes. “Uh, El? Are you telling us you’ve known about this bus the whole time, and are now just telling us because ... why?”
“I was going to tell you in the morning,” Elsbeth says.
“Yes, that may be true,” I say. “And I’m sure in Elsbeth logic that makes some kind of sense, but can you say specifically why you didn’t just tell us right away?”
“Because you were all mad at me over the bodies,” Elsbeth says. “The cannies don’t trust me, Little Canny thinks I’m crazy, Stuart is always mad, and Critter is an old dick. Then you started in on me.”
“Me? What did I do?” I ask.
“You doubted me,” she says.
Ouch. That stings.
“You shouldn’t doubt me, Long Pork,” Elsbeth continues. “Family doesn’t doubt.”
“Well, that ain’t true,” Critter says. “My whole family doubted me my whole life. But I think you are confusing trust and doubt, little lady. My brother trusted me with his entire soul, but he still doubted every decision I made. You gotta learn to lighten up, and just take the lumps. That’s what real family is about.”
“I don’t like lumps,” Elsbeth says.
“Tough shit,” Critter snaps. “Lumps is life, life is lumps. Get over it, and grow up.”
“Can we get back to the bus?” Stuart says. “We don’t need to do this family therapy session every time Elsbeth gets her panties in a wad.”
“I ain’t wearing panties,” Elsbeth says.
There is a collective groan.
“What? They ride up my craw craw,” Elsbeth says. “Hard to kill Zs and save Long Pork with panties in your craw craw.”
“Okay, enough about your craw craw,” I say. “I’m going to brain bleach that image right outta my noggin. El? The bus?”
“It’s three miles away, due west,” Elsbeth says.
“West?” I say. “That means you backtracked at some point.”
“Backtracked? I been circling everyone the whole time,” Elsbeth says. “Easy to do since that compound don’t move none. I had plenty of time to map this whole place. I bet I could walk these far
ms blindfolded.”
Considering that she got us through the pit in the pure darkness, I do not doubt her.
Watching Stuart’s expressions as he tries to find words that aren’t all shouty and pissed is pretty fun. I know he knows that getting angry at Elsbeth is like getting angry at a grizzly bear; it’ll hurt you more than it’ll hurt the bear. After a few seconds of some serious facial calisthenics, Stuart lets out a long, slow breath.
“Elsbeth?” he asks.
“Yes, Stuart?” she replies.
“Would you care to tell me what your whole plan was?” he says through gritted teeth. “Since it sounds like you had a plan, and just neglected to tell us.”
“You didn’t ask until now,” Elsbeth states.
“Were you waiting for us to ask?” Stuart grumbles.
“No,” Elsbeth says. “I was waiting for you to be nice. None of you have been nice. Except Long Pork. He’s been nice. He was bugging me, but he was nice about it. Sorta.”
“Panties in a wad,” Critter mutters.
“I ain’t got panties on,” Elsbeth huffs. “I said that.”
“Stop,” I say, and hold up my hand. “Everyone just chill their bones a bit. We are all exhausted, and probably a bit traumatized. Emotions are high, nerves are frayed, bodies are run down. No one is thinking straight, and we’re just going around in circles.”
I look from person to person, but see only blank stares.
“Was that out loud?” I ask. “It was supposed to be.”
“Yeah,” Critter says. “We’s just waitin’ for you to continue. Everybody knows you gots more to say than just that.”
“True, Crit,” I nod. “I do. The gist of it is, we are all pretty freaked out by the bloody words and the skinned corpses. El has told me it’s a message to her, but she won’t say from whom and why. Right now, that doesn’t matter. We drop it and focus on getting the fuck out of here without getting eaten or freezing in the storm. After that, we can deal with the other stuff. Everyone agreed?”
“Nope,” Elsbeth says. “We don’t deal with the other stuffs. I deal with the other stuffs. It’s my stuffs. Mine. After we get to the bus, what we’re gonna do is drive to the RVs and get Lourdes. She has the guns. Then we go to the compound, and save Greta. Maybe save some others if they haven’t had their brains washed too long. Then keep going on down the road. That’s my plan. It’s a good plan. None of you have a better plan. I know that.”
