“Your face is bleeding,” said the second man.
Jesse touched his face. Dark blood mixed with the dirt and grass on his fingers. Adrenaline exited his system as he stared at his hands. Sharp pain and soreness washed over his body.
“Can I come inside?” asked Jesse.
The first man looked at the second. The second man gave an affirmative shrug and a knowing smile.
“Seeing as how you are mostly harmless,” said the first man, “I think we can accommodate you until you are healed.”
The two laughed for a bit at Jesse's expense. Jesse smiled in embarrassment.
“I appreciate that,” said Jesse. “Thanks for saving my ass.”
“All in a day's work,” said the second man.
The first man extended his right hand, “Nathan, what's your name?”
“Jesse.” He shook Nathan's hand. Nathan’s grip rivaled Jesse’s own. He was half expecting Nathan to engage in one of those petty competitions of strength, but after a short squeeze, Nathan released Jesse's hand.
“His name's Blake,” said Nathan as he gestured with his left hand to the man carrying the mace. “Tim's the guy with the bow up on the wall.”
“Nice to meet you guys,” said Jesse.
“Yeah, same,” said Nathan. “I suppose I owe you an apology for not believing you about those things. Those are definitely different than the usual fare.”
“Yeah,” said Jesse. “They take a little more doin'.”
“For some maybe,” said Nathan. Jesse saw him wink through the sights in his closed helm. Jesse could tell from his strong demeanor and charisma why he had become the leader of this small group. Nathan commanded respect: he was physically imposing, funny, and direct.
“The lady inside is Danielle?” asked Jesse tentatively.
“Don't get any ideas though," said Nathan. "She's already got three husbands. That — and she's mean.”
“Perish the thought,” said Jesse. “I think I'm taken anyways.”
“What?” asked Blake.
“It's complicated,” said Jesse. “I'll explain later.”
“I always thought the apocalypse would simplify things, but life finds a way to make a mess of things,” said Blake.
“Right,” said Nathan. “Are we going to keep standing outside like a bunch of assholes until more monsters come, or should we go inside?”
“Lead the way,” said Jesse and he gestured at the gate.
Nathan walked to the castle’s entrance. Each stone in the wall was unique and carefully placed. The gate was made of stainless steel bolted to a hinge anchored into the wall with concrete. Past the wall was a small, two-story cylindrical keep.
Inside the courtyard, Danielle stood with her right hand resting on the grip of a saber. She was short, sturdy, and she was staring daggers at the men as they walked in with Jesse alongside them. Her brown hair was drawn back in a braid that she had tucked into her blouse.
“Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?”
Nathan's demeanor changed from carefree and elevated to irritated. He stopped for a moment.
“We're coming back in,” said Nathan and he gestured toward Jesse. “This is Jesse. He's the one that warned us about those screaming things the other day.”
“I don't give half a shit what he warned us about,” said Danielle. “We don't have enough food for another mouth, especially not one as big as that fucker. He looks like he could eat half a cow.”
“Don't mind me,” said Jesse trying and failing to add a bit of levity. Both Nathan and Danielle looked over at Jesse for a moment. Nathan's expression conveyed the message 'shut the fuck up and let me handle this' and Danielle's glare sent a clear 'go away' vibe. Nathan took off his helmet and the brown coif he had underneath. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and his head was clean-shaven. His beard was blond and forked. To Jesse, Nathan looked like a bouncer at a club. He had a mush face that said Go ahead and punch me, but if you do, I’m going to take you down.
“Blake, can you help him get those cuts cleaned up?” asked Nathan, although he delivered the question like an order.
“No problem. Come on, Jesse.”
Jesse followed Blake over to a crude bench carved into a tree trunk. He kept his ear on the conversation between Nathan and Danielle. Tim, the bowmen on the wall, stayed up at his post. Tim looked out the field below. He walked along the wall like a sentry, his bow ready with an arrow nocked.
“He has to go,” said Danielle a little quieter.
“Don't worry about them,” said Blake. He put his hand on Jesse's shoulder.
“They've been arguing about everything since before the shit hit the fan. I'm sure you can only imagine how that's changed now that there are three men in the picture.”
Blake sat Jesse down onto the bench. Blake took off his helmet and revealed a pale, freckled face and a head of short-cropped red hair and green eyes. He was handsome, but Jesse could not help but imagine him as the lost Weasley brother. Jesse tried to stop listening to the argument, but he could not block out the highlights.
“You just swing your stupid sword. I'm the one who has to ration all the fuckin' food. You think I like being hated? You think I like being 'the food bitch?' Fuck you, Nathan.”
“Hey man,” Blake said, he snapped his fingers in front of Jesse's face. “Are you paying attention?”
“Sorry,” said Jesse and he focused on Blake's face. “I'm concerned about what they're saying.”
“Don't worry,” said Blake, he patted Jesse on the shoulder. “She always listens to him eventually.”
“Ah.”
“She's a tough woman, but everyone has to give in from time to time. Nathan's got a way about him. She'll come 'round.”
“How have you guys survived here for so long?”
Blake made a grand gesture to their surroundings.
“As you can see, we handle ourselves pretty well.”
“No shit,” said Jesse. “This place looks like it took some time to build though.”
“A couple months of daily work,” said Blake, “but even a half-finished wall is better protection than you'd get out there.”
“Where'd you get all the stones?” asked Jesse.
“People's yards mostly. The stones are primarily machine-cut cobblestones and those landscaping stone rich folks have in their yards. The rest we got out of the ground. We filled in the gaps with quick-dry concrete and mortar. We hauled everything in wheelbarrows from the hardware store.”
“What about all the medieval stuff? It looks legit.”
“We've had all this stuff from before the zombies came. We were—. Well, do you know about Ren Fairs?”
“Yeah, I went to one when I was 14.”
“Well, we knew each other from the SCA, which is kinda like the Ren Faire. Just more serious. You know, geek stuff, but with swords and whatnot.”
“SEA?”
“No, S.C.A., The Society of Creative Anachronism.”
“Creative Anachronism?”
“It's fancy talk for guys and girls that like to play with swords and talk in accents.”
“Ah.”
“We've got our SCA battle gear, which is mostly useless in a real fight since it is all nerfed for the games, but most of us had some real replicas too. It's funny, our whole lives we were training for these games, and now it's just about the most useful skill you can have. I mean we fucking annihilated the regular zombies. We seriously fucked their shit up. Nathan, Tim, Danielle, and I tore through Eureka like it owed us money. We must have stomped like 4,000 zombies. Hell, we didn't really even have any close calls, except from other people, but that's different. After we cleared the town out, we got to talking about making a stable place to stay. Turns out, we aren't as good at farming and such as we are at fighting. It's a pity, that.”
“I wish I could say the same. I had a bludgeon that my friend welded for me, but nothing like that mace you've got there. Adam and I had a hell of a time in Silverdale. Peo
ple were dying all around us, food was scarce, and the weather was shit. The whole thing was a Mongolian Clusterfuck all the way through.”
“He's dead now?”
“Yeah,” answer Jesse, and his voice wavered a bit, “He, uh, he went at one of those things barehanded.”
“One of the zombies?” asked Blake with genuine concern in his voice.
“No, one of the screaming ones.”
“Ah, shit.”
“Yeah, he gave it his all, but — yeah.”
“I'm sorry, man.”
“Yeah.”
They sat there in awkward silence for a time. Neither one tried to break the solemn quiet. Blake waited for Jesse to compose himself. Loss was a concept that everyone still alive understood.
“I've got some vodka in my bag,” said Jesse.
“Ah shit, now we're talking.”
“I meant for my face.”
“Like fuck we're going to use it for that,” said Blake and he punched Jesse lightly in the chest. “We've got hydrogen peroxide for that. Let's get liquored up.”
“All right, why not? But I'm going to need that hydrogen peroxide first.”
“Yeah, I'll get it, but you should stay here. Wait until Hurricane Danielle gets downgraded to a tropical storm.”
Blake left and entered the keep.
Danielle and Nathan were still arguing. They were both standing with their arms crossed.
“He's not getting one bit of our food,” said Danielle.
“I'm not even going to offer him food,” said Nathan. “You aren't listening to a word I'm saying. What I am getting at is that we aren't safe here. Those things could fight. They tackled him like they were football players. Do you get that? What's to say that they can't climb?”
“Climbing zombies? Are you fucking serious?”
“You scoff, these things looked different. They acted different. If just one of those things gets over the wall when we aren't prepared, then — well, what then?”
“It's not going to happen!”
“How do you know?”
“We built that wall strong, and the keep is just as strong.”
“Yes, and it has done a great job so far. But, it did a great job against a bunch of mindless zombies. These screaming things are different. They're ferocious.”
“It looked like you handled them pretty well.”
“Sure, but this time we heard them coming. Plus we outnumbered them. What's going to happen when it's the dead of night and we have no warning? What's going to happen if twenty of them show up?”
“That's a lot of assumptions.”
“All it takes is one big mistake, and all of this is over.”
“Don't say that.”
“It's true.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“We let him stay the night,” said Nathan. He set his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll ask him what he knows about these things.”
“Fine,” said Danielle as she looked up into Nathan's eyes, “but he leaves in the morning, OK?”
“Sure,” said Nathan. He hugged her and kissed her forehead.
Nathan locked eyes with Jesse from across the courtyard. He raised his hand to acknowledge Jesse. Jesse did the same and stood. Nathan crossed the courtyard. Jesse did not feel comfortable enough to walk freely, so he stayed put.
“How's your face?” asked Nathan. He pointed at Jesse's scratches and raised his eyebrows with concern.
“I think it'll hurt more later on,” answer Jesse. “I've still got a lot of adrenaline pumping through my veins.”
“Be thankful for that. Where's Blake?”
“He's getting hydrogen peroxide.”
“Ah. Good. Whatcha got there?” Nathan asked pointing toward the jug in Jesse's right hand.
“Vodka. The cheap shit,” said Jesse. He held up the jug. Nathan reached for it, and Jesse drew it back. Nathan raised his eyebrows, snapped his fingers, and then pointed to the jug.
“Consider this rent.”
“Deal,” said Jesse handing him the jug. Nathan twisted off the top and took a few gulps. He coughed and grimaced.
“Goddamn, it tastes like paint thinner.”
“I said it was cheap.”
“You weren't hardly bullshitting.”
“Nope.”
Nathan handed the vodka to Jesse. Jesse took a pull. The vodka burned and tasted awful. He coughed and gagged. Nathan laughed and waved for the jug again. Jesse handed it over and Nathan took another drink. When Nathan tried to pass it back, Jesse raised his hands and waved it away.
“Fine, more for us.”
“Take all you want. I don't have the stomach for it.”
“A man of refinement.”
“Something like that.”
“Blake! Tim! Danielle!” bellowed Nathan. He had a deep, powerful voice that carried. Blake came out of the keep with a first aid kit, hydrogen peroxide, and an ear of corn in hand. Danielle came over and sat down on the bench. Tim looked down from the wall. Nathan motioned for Tim to come down.
“What is it?” Tim yelled down.
“Booze!” Nathan responded.
“Oh, shit!” Tim said and hurried down. Jesse felt like he had just won over the whole group with a simple gesture. Blake opened the hydrogen peroxide and took a bag of cotton balls out of a small first aid kit he had fetched from inside the keep.
“You sure you don't want to drink a little more vodka?” asked Nathan.
“Nah.”
“That shit is gonna hurt. Blake's good with first aid stuff, but those gashes on your face are deep.”
“Yeah,” said Jesse and he took off his shirt revealing the shallow scratches on his shoulders and forearms. “I've got some on my arms too.”
“Christ!” said Danielle. She stared at his wounds for a moment, but her gaze stayed fixed on his chest. When Jesse raised his eyebrow, she coughed and turned away.
“I’ll throw some more logs on the fire,” she said.
“Next time,” said Blake, “you might want to consider getting your ass kicked a little less. Have you heard of dodging? It’s all the rage with people that aren’t dead yet.”
Blake smiled with his teeth, but Jesse could tell that Blake did not really find the situation funny. He soaked a small clump of cotton balls. He dabbed away at the scratches on Jesse’s body, but he paused before touched the gashes on Jesse's face.
“Last chance to change your mind about drinking more vodka.”
“Go ahead,” said Jesse and he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. The peroxide sizzled and bubbled as Blake dabbed it across the gashes on Jesse's cheek and neck. Jesse's muscles tensed and he began to take in deep breaths.
“Tough fucker, huh?” said Blake.
“Something like that,” Jesse said through his teeth. The others sat back and watched as Blake cleaned Jesse's wounds. Nathan took a long pull of the vodka, grimaced, and passed it to Danielle. She took a gulp, coughed, and took another.
“Save some for me, guys,” said Tim.
“There's plenty,” said Nathan and tapped Danielle on the shoulder. Danielle hugged the bottle.
“No, mine!” she joked in a childish tone before she passed the jug to Tim. Tim chugged the vodka for a moment and let out a hoot when he finished.
“Goddamn! This shit is awful. Got any more, random guy?”
“His name’s Jesse,” said Nathan.
“Ah. Got any more, random guy named Jesse?”
“Idiot,” said Danielle.
“No, it's cool guys,” Blake said as he cleaned the wounds on Jesse's cheek. “No need to save any for me. Greedy fuckers.”
“You'll get yours,” said Nathan. Tim gave Nathan the jug and Nathan set it on the grass. Blake finished with the cleaning and looked at Jesse's wounds.
“I hope you like scars because there isn't much chance that those gashes won't leave a mark.”
“It's all right, thanks,” said Jesse. He carefully slid his shirt back on. “I won't be ent
ering into any beauty pageants anytime soon.”
Jesse looked into the small bag that Blake brought and pulled out a roll of gauze. Blake shook his head.
“Can't bandage it.”
“Why not?”
“It might get infected if you do. Just let it air out for a bit. In the morning, we can put a bandage on it if it doesn't look infected.”
“And if it does look infected?”
“Then you’ll probably die horribly,” Blake said and he zipped up the bag. “Unless you can find some antibiotics before you go septic.”
Jesse nodded and ripped the sleeves off of his jacket and shirt. They were shredded, and he wanted to give the wounds a chance to breathe. Jesse was a mess. His cheek and nose sported huge gashes, and he had a hematoma forming on his forehead from his fight with the screaming creatures. Deep gashes lined his arms, and his jacket looked like it belonged to a homeless street fighter.
“So,” Tim said, “you said you came from Washington?”
“Yeah, Silverdale.”
“I'm not familiar with that town,” said Tim. He gestured at the vodka. Blake passed the jug to him.
“Most people from Washington aren't familiar with it either,” said Jesse.
“You understand our distrust when we don't believe you, right?” asked Nathan. His eyebrows were raised and his lips were closed. Jesse kept eye contact, but he gathered that most men would turn away from Nathan's intense stare. He was an imposing man, but Jesse felt like he could take Nathan if he was unarmed.
“It doesn't matter if you believe me,” said Jesse maintaining eye contact all the while. “I'm here now. My kayak is shored up on the beach down the highway a ways, if you're really interested in proof you can check there. I'm obviously not from around here.”
“Guys,” said Blake, trying to insert himself into the mix. Nathan shot Blake a sideways glance and raised a finger on his right hand.
“How?” asked Nathan. He raised both his hands in a shrug, “How could you possibly have made it this far? That's fucking insane.”
Blood rushed to Jesse's face, making it hot, and his hands began to tremble.
“I rowed. I rowed until I couldn't stand it anymore. I just — kept going. It's not like I didn't have enough free time to get here. There's nothing else to do. I don't know if you noticed, but there hasn't been much on TV and my favorite authors haven't produced any work recently. But what difference does it make? I was there, and now I'm here. Both of the towns are dead, and, from what I could tell, every single town in between. The whole goddamn world has been torn to shit. It's lost. So, now I'm here. My arms still hurt from all the rowing, and I'm fucking tired.”
The Lost Gods Page 12
