by P. S. Power
She stopped when she heard the hammer go back on the revolver. Jake managed not to fire, but only barely, understanding that most bad guys wouldn't have announced themselves like that.
“Cameron? What is it? Is...”
She explained quickly and started doing her set up for the return trip. Jake just got ready, packed extra ammo for once, his axe and ample layers of nice sturdy clothing. Two pairs of socks even to keep his feet warm and a scarf to keep his face toasty.
Then he took her offered hand and closed his eyes. That really turned out to be a good idea. Eyes open, you didn't see anything bad, the scene just changed, like a jump cut in a movie. But for some reason you also threw up. Hard too. He'd tried it just to see if he had some magical immunity to that effect.
He did as it happened.
It was called closing his eyes, like the expert had told him to.
The building was surrounded, but Burt got some flood lights going so they could spot incoming dead. More were coming of course.
Merry Christmas, every one. Jake walked out onto the porch with Dave and Ken.
He nodded to them with a smile and pointed behind him. Not way back, he was just taking point first. There was sound behind him, but Jake didn't look. If it was bad guys, he was just screwed.
Carefully he emptied his nine into the head of four zombies, then moved back and to the left, so Ken could have a turn. Dave ready to catch anything that might have been missed. Teamwork paid off after all. Carley was behind Dave, Len and Molly moved to either side, to provide constant cover. Sammi had a rifle in her hands and looked adorable standing there ready to do battle. If she just looked a bit older, five years or so, she would have looked hot.
It was so incredibly unfair to her. The way he felt. He knew the feeling, that something was wrong with you that stopped everyone else in the world from loving you. Hopefully being her friend would be enough. It hadn't been for him though, back with Rachel.
Jake just reloaded while shooters sniped from the upper windows. Others worked out of the rotation, so that people could go in and get more ammo. Jake had to four times. As a system it kind of worked, because after just a few minutes, the dead people started hunkering down to try and eat the fallen zombie-cicles on the ground. It made it way easier to hit them. More kept coming though, and the pile grew right in front of the porch. It was going to be a bitch to clean up before the party.
It went on for hours. They didn't leave the covered porch, but the zombies were more than willing to keep coming to them, what with their warm and tasty scent. On the good side, that meant that the ones on the other side of the building finally walked around to die too. It just didn't end though. Every time there was a lull people started to relax, only to find another wave coming. Never huge, ten sometimes twenty of them, but there were six waves in before he got it. Someone was drawing them. A group of someones.
He stepped back and patted Sammi on the arm, gesturing to the kitchen behind them. It was warm inside and Lois had a team of people baking already, making food for later. Jake winked at her.
“That's the spirit!” He husked at her so it wouldn't carry.
Then he turned to Sammi and leaned in until his lips nearly touched her ear.
“Sammi, can you listen for me, outside and see if you hear anything? Screamers or... I don't know, something I'm missing? This just feels weird. Wrong somehow.”
“Yes. Let's get more ammo first though. I don't want to run out for some reason.”
Jake didn't either. Outside not two minutes later Sammi nodded excitedly and started pointing. She held up three fingers and different directions got indicated. Then she dragged him back in.
“I didn't notice before, it's faint, but, I think someone's using whistles to draw them, like the ones used to train dogs?”
Which made sense. Dog whistles. Duh. That would get them thinking something young and tasty might be about for sure.
But to draw them, people had to be coming close to the house, didn't they? Out in front of the hoard. It was a dangerous thing to do, but might be possible, if you were fleet of foot and didn't give a fuck anymore.
The cannibals could do it.
The windigo.
Yippy skippy. Jake had no clue what to do at all. He wasn't taking Sammi with him and his night vision was average at best. Still, eventually people would get tired and start making mistakes, if he didn't do something.
Jake relaxed then and let go of everything. All the fear, the hatred he felt for the people doing this to them, everything. Suddenly, a wash of compassion came over him and peace. He knew what to do.
And it was so stupid he deserved to die if he tried it.
So at least he had a plan.
At the next lull, Jake charged into the night silently. No one said anything, but Carley gasped. He knew it was her from the tone. It was dark, but he heard footsteps behind him. At first he figured it would be Sammi. She loved him, she said, and could see in the dark, but it wasn't. He could tell by the weight of the sound in the cold air.
Dave.... And someone else. Ken?
Jake moved to the outside position, the middle of what used to be the corn fields away from the House, long stocks making noise as they ran, crunching and snapping. Stopping at about the center, he gestured the two behind him to get down. Then, without explaining, which would be stupid, he cupped his hands to his ears trying to funnel sound and closed his eyes, to focus.
It was minutes before he heard it, someone, a single person, running. Not too fast, a slight buzz in the air could have been the whistle, or air escaping around it, as the runner huffed. Jake moved, down the narrow row of corn, staying low. Until the person came out, nearly on top of him. Oops. He hadn't counted on being that accurate. He was about to shoot when he got who it had to be. The form was right, the breathing... familiar... Eerie. He hadn't known he could recognize people from their breathing.
Rita.
Bitch. He rose up suddenly and hit her in the head with the side of his nine, hard. It served her right. Shooting would too. But he was counting her as “drugged” into doing this, which meant not responsible for her actions. He picked her up, and slung her over his shoulders. He lacked the weight for this kind of thing, normally, but she was like a feather. Tiny and light. He ran with her, weapon away, hoping she wouldn't wake up for a few minutes. She did of course, but for some reason she didn't fight.
Dave saw the bundle in the night and chuckled, Ken was nearly invisible though and silent. Jake always liked that about the boy.
They had to walk to the porch slowly, zombies behind them, still walking through the corn field, they needed to let the people on the porch know it was them, but saying anything would be stupid and shooting would probably get them killed too, so make a poor signal. The dead wouldn't care though.
Jake remembered what the women at his house had done once. Clapping. It was a safe noise. He needed his hands to hold on to Rita though. Jake shifted a little expecting her to finally go apeshit and try to rip his eyes out, but she just huffed into the cold, breathing steady, but silent. Once in place he used one hand to tap out the current secret knock on his right thigh. It took several repetitions, but Dave got it and started clapping, a much louder sound, then they walked in slowly, hoping no one would shoot.
It worked, though the second they were on the porch, more zombies came in right behind them, not even twenty feet back. So, close. They worked Rita inside, but everyone on duty stayed, even as they gasped, getting the idea.
It wasn't cannibals. Or if it was, Holsom was just a freak, probably leading them.
Jake set her down in the living room. Trying to be gentle, only to have Carley walk over and put her hand over the woman's mouth and nose.
“Um?” Jake said, not trying to be a pain, but if he just wanted to kill her, the field would have been good enough.
Carley grinned, “Fire with fire. I'm mega-dosing her on pheromones. Stupid Incubus doesn't know what a Killgrade even is I bet.”
/> After a minute she pulled her hand away and Rita stirred, looking both groggy and... entranced. With the blond in front of her.
“Hi Rita. Um, sorry about this, but I need to know, do you love me more than Derrick?”
“I... do. I didn't before, but, it's so good to see you. I'm so sorry! We have to stop them, they're going to weaken us and then Derrick is going to come in and get the women to like him, but... That's not right is it? We should like you. Not him. I didn't even know I liked girls before...”
Carley smiled as Nate walked up.
“That worked. Too bad I'm not bi, well, I don't know what to do, but...”
Jake nodded slowly, trying to think on the fly.
“Hey, Rita, how many people do you have, does Derrick have I mean, since you're on our side now, drawing zombies in?”
“Three others. Derrick is holding back, so that he'll be fresh to come in later, before dawn I think. Someone is supposed to let him in the front. Um, Robin? I think he said that was her name. I didn't pay attention to that part. Some girl he used to know, half-sister or something.”
That was news to him. Apparently everyone. No big thing.
“Carley, get Robin, like what you did here? I'll,” he swallowed, it was so stupid. “Get the others.”
No one stopped him, but when he made the next run, Carl and Vickie went with him. Jake didn't know the woman, one of the new people. He was glad to have Carl though, because whoever she was, she knew how to fight. Jake nearly shot her, but Carl just absorbed her kicks and punches and slapped her to the ground. Then he carried her, which wouldn't have worked, except that Vickie had brought rope.
She was so smart. Rope. He'd have never thought of that.
Two more waves, two more women. When he got back to the living room the zombies had slowed way down for a bit. But... They didn't want that, did they? They wanted Derrick to think that he was being helped into the House, so they could kill him.
Jake just stole some of the whistles, they had two and got a couple of the girls from the kitchen to come out and start blowing. It worked like a charm. Really, it was better than a baby screaming in how well it worked. Things got more intense for a while and finally Robin came to the back door and waved to him, when he turned. The signal for the real fun to begin.
Jake paused, made sure he had plenty of ammo for the fight to come, and set his axe down alongside the front door, then moved it across the room. Giving Holsom an extra weapon would be stupid. It was dark, the front room being small, an entry hall really, Jake just ducked down and waited as Robin got into place. Finally, nearly an hour later, a soft knock came, just one rap. Near the bottom of the door. It could have been anything, but it wasn't.
The girl moved, opening the door and stepping aside to let the large black form in.
“Is everything ready? You can get me into the women's chamber below? It will only take a couple of minutes. Half of the bitches are already into me.” He sounded horrible, raspy, worse than just hard living or dry winter air too.
“Yeah, we can get in. Um, there is one small problem though...”
“What? I swear if you messed up sis, I'm fucking you up the ass dry for a month. I may do it anyway, now that I think about it. I always did think you were cute. Too bad your mom was such a cunt. Anyway, what's the situation?”
About then the scent hit Jake, Holsom hadn't been the most cleanly person when he'd been at the House, but he'd made some effort. This did not smell like effort. It smelled like desperation and fear. Plus really bad body odor. Mainly that last one.
“Well, the thing is, you're surrounded and if you don't lay down your weapons right now, I'll kill you.” Jake said conversationally.
Holsom froze. Honestly Jake had figured it would be a gun fight. But instead he just didn't move for a long time. When he did, he laughed.
“Mother fucker. Well, if that isn't perfect. Did you kill all the other women then? They didn't deserve it, not that it matters. Fuck.”
Things clunked onto the floor, but only two of them. Jake wasn't buying. Holsom would have a knife too. Those thunks were too heavy for that.
He didn't mention it.
“Step back Robin, let's just see what we can...” Jake didn't wait for anything to happen. He just shot the man in the head. Once. Then in the body to knock him down, figuring that he'd have a bullet vest on. It was too dark to assume anything, so Jake closed and shot again.
Then pulled the body out back and got the axe. A single zombie came after him, which he killed without blinking, then took the head off without ceremony.
Then, ducking down next to the man, he whispered so quietly that even the dead probably couldn't hear him. That was fine. It was just for him anyway.
“Or you could have not been an incredible asshole. Just saying...”
Then Jake punched him in the balls, over and over again, until he was too tired to do it anymore.
Oddly, he felt better.
Chapter Thirteen
Morning light came about two hours later.
They had guests coming in seven hours and the place was a mess.
Jake smiled.
Really, that was almost normal wasn't it? Running around trying to make things just so before the in-laws and extended family and friends arrived to pass judgment? Like a real Christmas after all. God bless us, every one. He wanted to whistle as he walked out into the back yard, carefully avoiding the writhing masses on the ground, because a scratch could still prove fatal after all.
Jake had taken the time to clean and sharpen his axe. It was a blunt edge on the metal, because zombie necks were hard this time of year and too high an angle would let the blade chip and break. Face mask pulled up he started chopping, one after another. It was nearly relaxing for some reason.
Oh, his right hand ached terribly, a deep set throbbing that probably meant he broke something in his ten minutes of hitting Holsom in the groin.
It was completely worth it.
Even if he had to shoot left handed for a while. Under the covering on his face, Jake couldn't help but grin. It must have showed in his eyes, because after a while Vickie and Molly came over to help, first dragging bodies into place for him, then moving them to the cart for Carl, Tip and Nate to take away.
They were dumping them all in a big pile, about a quarter of a mile away. They'd have to move them again, but time was kind of important at the moment.
“What are you so happy about?” Tipper said grumpily enough that he winked at her and pulled his mask down, so she could see he really was cheery.
“Are you kidding? I finally got to finish this thing with Holsom. It was this huge weight, pressing down on me for months, now it's just... gone. I know it doesn't fix the world, but no one will be trying to plot against us anymore from within. Well, not for that reason. If Carley takes to doing that, I'm shooting her in the head though.” He held up his left hand, palm out.
“Not that I don't think she's great. I'd pick her to have that power of Derrick freaking Holsom any day of the week. I mean, she hasn't killed anyone either, so, you know, she's shown that she's good with having power already. Just, if it does happen, that's the plan. Back of the head when she isn't looking.”
From behind him a grunt came.
“Right, like I want a half dozen women trying to climb into bed with me each night? I could have at least gotten the pheromones to control men, couldn't I? Of course, then all these women would still be mooning after Derrick and trying to get us killed. But talk about unfair.” Carley looked less than amused by her predicament.
That made sense to Jake. He wouldn't have liked having men trying to screw him in his sleep, would he? The curly blond shook a loose hair out of her face.
“Thanks though. For assuming I'm not a monster. Not everyone does with Killgrades. We can kill, so of course, we're going to, right? Or in this case, I have power, so it's going to be used... On the good side I made a point of telling all the girls that you're not creepy at all Jake and ar
e actually a wonderful human being. They still don't want to sleep with you, but it should cut down on the glaring a bit, for the ones I dealt with at least.”
“Um, thanks?” It was a nice gesture at least.
“You're welcome. It's your Christmas present from me, sorry I didn't get it wrapped.” She looked blank, tired. Then they'd been up all night, hadn't they?
Jake got back to work, for a while, taking twenty more heads before re-honing the blade and handing it off to Carl, who did it twice as fast as he had. Of course. Not for as long though. Carl really hated this part of things. It was clear he wanted to do his part, but the look of disgust with each swing was horrible to watch.
“Alright, Carl, could you go back to cart duty? It looks like the new crew is flagging already.” Jake put his hand out for the tool and the big man took an obviously deep breath. He should have had a mask on, just to keep the habit, but it wasn't really needed in the frozen world of winter.
“Thanks man. I hate this.” The words were bitter, dark and not Christmas like at all.
“Oh, I know it's a pain on party day, but look at all the cleaning we got done, without even having to leave home. No one got hurt even. Well, except Derrick.” Jake smiled again, happy to the bottom of his soul.
So far it was the best Christmas ever.
It really was.
Now they just had to finish the day and hope that whatever Holsom and his friends had done, a world of Zombies wasn't about to descend on them all. Not until after the party at least.
It made things seem, almost normal, having a party to get ready for.
Jake wondered if that was the real point? To holidays in general. Maybe it wasn't about having fun at all, but establishing a pattern. Something to look forward to?
If so, they should do it more often.
Especially the part where Holsom wasn't alive anymore. That was his favorite he decided.
A very good thing indeed.
