by P. S. Power
The old woman stood, and gave Jake a small hug.
“I didn't say that Darian. He's The Very Good Man, without a doubt. I was merely taken aback, the picture is much more... powerful than I thought. This is him though. Without any doubt.”
Sammi looked... Pleased. Cam looked like she'd just been given a pony and the gray haired but fit woman he hadn't noticed sitting up front next to the old woman gave him a single nod.
“Wait,” Jake said, trying to piece things together into a picture that might make sense. “That means I'm what... The mascot of the apocalypse?”
The guy on the end with orange eyes like Cam's, but normal looking brown hair spoke, humor in his voice.
“No Ba-Dehist. Much more important. You get to be the towel boy. There are some small water provision duties as well, but I'm sure you can handle it without issue. It is your destined path after all.” This was so dead panned that it took Jake a second to mentally translate.
“OK, towel boy of the apocalypse. That actually has a ring to it, don't you think?”
The man in the middle, Sammi's grandpa, glared at the man on the end.
“That is hardly appropriate Morris. Leave it to a...” The words stopped and then he started again. “Well, it's not exactly the tenor I'd hoped for here, shall we say?”
The guy being scolded looked about ready to laugh at the Bawdri, a smile on his lips that actually touched his eyes, but refocused on Jake almost immediately.
“No offense meant, of course Ba-Dehist. Perhaps jesting isn't what is needed at this time?”
“Um, or maybe it's all we have? Is there another test or something?” He tilted his head. “If I have to fight anyone I'll just forfeit right now, if it's all the same.”
That got a laugh from everyone up front for some reason, which seemed a little mean, considering he'd been shot not ten days before. The telepath squeaked.
“You were shot through the middle and you walked here?” He looked aghast, like someone had just suggested that Gandhi would have made a great punching bag.
“Don't worry, just a flesh wound.” It was a quote, from when he'd seen Vickie get hit about the same way a few months before. Was it less than that? Jake didn't know, not anymore. She hadn't done any wimpy lying down or nearly dying after either. She'd hardly flinched.
The old woman that had held his hand took a deep breath, a shuddering thing that spoke of near misses and worse.
“I'm so sorry... We should have-”
“Flesh wound, Grand Comtrice. If it were more serious he'd report it as so.” This came from the gray haired woman that smiled at him, her face more happy than it had been so far.
“A bit more toughness than I'd expect from a VGM normally, not that it's a bad thing. If we'd come and he started regaling us with poetry, I'd have felt a little out of place myself... not to be pushy, but we were chosen to come because we all have people here, except you Morris, though I do spy a friend for you too, so perhaps we should collect some data before bothering... Jake, here further?” The woman sounded like she was used to her suggestions being taken. After a second she softened the whole thing with a small bow.
“If that suits your needs, I mean, sir.”
Not able to help it Jake rolled his eyes, “Sir? Really? Is that any way to address the Towel Boy of the Apocalypse? Tsk, tsk. I normally answer to “hey, you”, Jake will work too though.”
The woman shook her head, “smart ass.”
Jake stared at her as if amazed for a bit, which got her to go silent. Everyone in the room did.
“Wait, how did you know my childhood nickname? Are you a witch?”
The telepath guy got it first. Laughing loud. The rest followed except for the man in the middle who sighed mightily. Then, the telepath cheated didn't he? Reading the intent out of Jake's mind like that.
They broke up then, into little groups, with most of the people just milling around. Ken and Dave walked over to Jake with a chair. That was pretty thoughtful of him really. He didn't even just sit in it, holding it out for Jake and everything.
“Thanks.”
The boys were dressed nicely, not exactly foreign dignitary clothing maybe, but certainly good enough to head off to church if they wanted. Not great if more undead attacked.
“Where is everyone else?”
It was Ken that answered him, shrugging.
“In the rooms. Sammi suggested we don't inundate these people with the crud that's been going on, not at first. Plus, no one knew if you were going to come in shooting. The ones that are scared of you aren't here.”
A tiny girl came and stood next to him, blond and dressed all in black. Black geranimals, or at least children's clothing, but still, it did lend her a bit more of a vampire air than red corduroy would have. Sitting down he was only about her height, just a bit taller, which meant she could look him in the eye more or less.
“Never have so many whined about so few, for so long, without cause. It's an information contagion. The liars have been uncovered, but won't admit it, just insisting, loudly at times, that they aren't lying and that Nate is. This lets some of those predisposed to be against you to not pay attention to the facts of the matter. I'd say, in general, that it's neatly ended this little experiment, except for the fact that all my food is here.” She patted his cheek gently, her little hand cold.
“So do be a dear and fix it, will you Jake? Otherwise I'm going to have to kill about half the people here, just to manage things. Then the remainder will be afraid of me, making getting blood from them that much harder. Pain in the ass.”
That did seem like it would be, didn't it?
“On it. Just as soon as I figure out what to do at all.” Jake wondered if him killing those people himself would work better? Then Darla wouldn't be blamed at least.
“See that you do.” The girl didn't smile and if she was kidding, Jake couldn't tell at all.
Grand. Everybody wants something, don't they?
What did he want? It wasn't a small question, but he hadn't thought about it in... Jake couldn't remember when he had. Not past the desire to not die. A totally valid thing, but that wasn't really a goal, kind of just biology. Even that was being stressed by this place though. Looking around it occurred to him that being there hurt.
It made him tired too. Just a feeling of bone weary exhaustion that couldn't be shaken. No matter what he did, or how much he slept, it just rode with him, like a cloud overhead that wouldn't move unless he did. Or a cloak of blah.
Everyone else that he might have really talked to was busy, chatting with one of the visitors. Sammi was with her family, Vickie and Tipper with the gray haired hard body, and even Nate was chatting with the telepathic man. Morris the teleporter was in the corner with Cam. Suddenly he took her hand and they both vanished. Whoever he was, his ability to do that was faster than the girl's. The old woman that had tested him sat alone, so Jake suggested Ken and Dave go and see if she wanted anything.
It turned out that she wanted Cisco, who was up hiding from him in one of the rooms. Jake didn't get that at all, but then the woman did come down after a while, looking sad, until she saw the woman, who sat, smiling at her warmly. They hugged and spoke in low tones, Cisco finally turning to look at him after about five minutes. She looked a lot more scared now than when she'd walked into the room. Jake decided to just shoot her if she got so much as a paper cut on purpose. She was acting fishy.
It felt nice to just rest for a bit. As it turned out, he was getting more than that, since people talked for hours. Cam and her new gentleman friend came back, and she headed to the kitchen, to help Lois he guessed. It was good to see that she was working hard.
Jake didn't want to be rude, but if he was going to get home before dark, he needed to get out before two, and it had to be creeping up on that already. He stood, a slow and stiff thing, wondering how to get out of there without just being a dick and leaving. No one even looked over at him, which made the idea of making a run for it make sense. Or
a slow shuffle at least. Still, that would be beyond rude. Then, so would making him stay the night.
Decisions to be made for sure.
Sighing he decided to go with the adult idea first, then be a petulant little brat if it came to it. He walked up to Darian and Sammi, where they sat discussing things that seemed important with Robert. The body language said that at least. The tones were too hushed for him to hear at all, even when he moved close. Soft as a heartbeat.
“Hi, um, I'm going to have to take off soon, thought I'd come say goodbye first though.” There, that should do it, right?
The girl gave him a look, and Robert shook his head, a subtle thing that most people would have missed.
“Jake, we can't just keep everyone waiting, there are things to discuss that might affect the shape of the world to come, surely that's more important than personal comfort?” The words weren't angry, but were condescending enough that Jake nearly just turned on his heel and walked away.
Worse, they were awfully close to what Heather had said about him. The man couldn't have known that, but it still kind of ticked Jake off and reminded him just why he didn't want to be around. Taking a very slow breath, Jake shook his head, very slightly, and tried for a smile.
“I'm sure it is,” it was suddenly very hard not to be snappish with the guy. Couldn't he see this went a little beyond comfort? This wasn't about getting a warm bath and dry socks, it was about avoiding bloodshed.
At least until he had a chance of winning. After all, this situation wasn't over, not at all. They really should have killed him. They might still, but not until a whole bunch of liars learned that there was also power in the truth.
Robert looked away from him, as if it were settled, which got a smile from Jake.
“But that isn't my responsibility. I have other things to do and while I don't wish to be unwelcoming, this isn't my house or place in things, and I wasn't invited. Not by anyone that lives here.”
Robert acted like he'd been kicked in the balls or something, even to the point that the man's eyes watered a bit.
“What?” He said loudly, barking it, a tone that made Jake's hand go for his side arm instantly. Jake hadn't planned it, but he was looking down the barrel of the gun, ready to pull the trigger, just from the anger he heard.
No, he wasn't twitchy, who'd think that?
The room had turned to look at them and Robert froze, his hand halfway to his own piece. Jake shook his head, because he'd blow the man's brains out if he had to. In fact he was halfway to doing it when the old telepathic man walked over. After a few seconds he spoke, his words more gentle than Jake thought they'd be.
“A misunderstanding. Robert didn't realize that his words mimicked things used to goad you recently, in a most hurtful way. Not consciously at least. Princess Samantha told him, and Darian, of what was said, but I do not believe ill will was intended.” Then the man stood back.
OK. That made sense. The nine got put away. Robert relaxed, but seemed a bit upset for some reason. What, was The Very Good Man supposed to actually do something? If so, then they picked wrong. He was just him. “A Sorta OK Guy”, at best.
The older Bawdri gave a tiny bow, and made a smile that didn't touch his eyes come to his face.
“Forgive us. We've intruded into your time without regard to your own comfort or safety. It was not our intent.” There was more bowing, it got deeper and finally Sammi pulled at his arm.
“Jake?”
Oh, he was supposed to bow back? Gah. He did, trying to match the guy, but had to stand back up at less than a quarter of a bend, fighting the pain from his face, not half as deep. Darian looked pissed. Ready to fight even. Like it was an insult to him personally. The telepath chuckled, a diplomatic sound somehow.
“Gut shot Darian. His intent was to match you, and given that he doesn't know your people's formal protocols at all, you can hardly ask for more than that, can you?”
The older Bawdri didn't bow again, but looked slightly less formal and made a face at Sammi.
“Forgot to teach him that? What were you doing the whole time?”
“Trying to stay alive?”
Jake didn't want to be a pain, but this was old now and really, he needed to get going, at this rate he'd be walking back in the dark and be eaten by frozen dead things for his trouble. It might be the point.
Maybe he was supposed to be some kind of sacrifice in a weird rite or something? Well, if that was the case, they could perhaps elect someone else for the job? It didn't matter. Jake sighed and shook his head at the Bawdri, all of them.
“Goodbye. I need to go talk to everyone else and get going. Perhaps we can meet again before you all go?”
The telepath guy actually told him the plan, which was helpful.
“Morris is going to get us back to our own places for the night, but we can come later? I believe your...” The man looked at him and continued, clearly changing the word used. “Teleporter has learned to reach several of those locations, all safe for visiting as well. Perhaps we could schedule meetings?”
Did they really live in such comfort they had time for elaborate meetings? Jake agreed, mainly to get out of the room before everyone came down for dinner, but crud, that did not sound like fun.
He did manage to say goodbye to the other people and get out by three or so. He could make it, if he didn't run into trouble.
Which of course he did.
As he walked home, someone hidden in the woods on the right side, started shooting at him. Many someones.
Chapter Eleven
Hitting the hard and frozen ground hurt. A lot.
It nearly made him want to black out, but only for a few seconds, as he pulled his gun out. Then he rolled to the left. Why left? It was just what the cleaners did. They practiced it. When you moved in a group, you went that way. Always your own left. It kept you out of everyone's way for one thing.
So he did that now. Nearly screaming from the ripping pain in his middle.
Fudge.
Then Jake waited, looking for some sign of where the fire was coming from, rather than just blindly popping off rounds. At this range it would be hard enough to hit anything, doing it at random wouldn't work. Not well.
The figures were all but hidden in the shadows of the trees and each blast of sound seemed to warp into all the others. There had to be at least five shooters, maybe a lot more. It was so hard to tell. Finally he saw a single muzzle blast, then a second, from the same place. They weren't being too careful then? Jake took care to aim and fired once only. Then rolled again, using a tiny dip in the terrain to hide him. If he hit anything, it was too hard to tell. There was a yell though.
More shooting came and after a few minutes he saw another pattern. Fired, got out of the old position and did it all again twice more. Then he just lay down, face on snow, right cheek going numb, and waited. It took a while, about ten minutes, but two of the warmly dressed attackers walked out, each holding a rifle pointed vaguely in his direction.
Jake let them close with him before shooting, taking the first one in the head, the white hat flying off her head and the second in the upper chest, but only because she jumped, nearly straight up, for some reason. It was an impressive thing, taking her body about ten or fifteen feet into the air, the bullet carrying her back. It was an almost floating movement. Like a balloon falling.
As the body hit the ground, he hit her head with a second bullet. That made him feel a bit better. Jake hated missing.
He heard people yelling in the woods, then sounds of running. Still, he waited. These clearly weren't regular people at all. Not with one trying to float out of the way of a bullet like that. Jake felt a little jealous, for about half a second. After all, he wasn't dead and that person was. Even though floaty powers were freaking awesome.
The shooting had stopped, which made things quieter, but didn't mean safe. Carefully, and painfully, he crawled on his belly toward the tree line. Slowly enough that it was nearly dark when he got to
the first body. Even with the hole in her head and the back of the skull missing, he got who it was. Holly.
The pregnant one.
From the House.
The second body back wasn't anyone he could recognize off the top of his head, but she looked a tiny bit familiar. One of the new women from the police compound. In the trees he found two more, one of whom was even alive. Injured and dying, just not dead yet. Now her he knew immediately.
Fuck.
Justine.
She saw him and groaned a little, her mouth working, as if trying to get him to come closer. He didn't see a weapon in her hands, now, that had been taken most likely. He closed with her, the dark stain of blood marking the white snow beneath her. It had been one of his near blind shots, the second one he thought, based on position. The round had hit high in the chest. It wasn't a survivable wound. Not even if they had a modern hospital to take her to and emergency care on the way.
Oh, not because she was slated to die from it.
Jake was just going to kill her. He'd saved her life once, on the condition that she not do things like this. So it was kind of a deal breaker.
Oops.
“I'm... sorry. I had to. My baby needed me. Understand?”
“Derrick?” The answer was so clear it hardly seemed worth asking the question.
Of course it was him. It got a nod though, which helped a bit.
“Forgive me?” She sounded really sad, her strong featured face going slack.
“Sure. Why not?”
Then Jake shot her in the head, turning it into a bloody pulp. After that he just walked home. He didn't have an axe or machete with him, an oversight, those needed to be carried everywhere from then on, he decided. He wasn't taking the bodies back with him, so he'd just leave them to freeze and hope that would slow the land sharks down a bit. The first thing he did was check the whole house and the barn, which were untouched.
Then he built up the interior fire in the kitchen, and set the water heater going, making sure he had enough water for a full bath. First a scrub up, trying to get the death off, then hours in the tub. He didn't eat that night. Instead he just sat in the bath, and cried.
