by P. S. Power
There was a handy fold down ladder, a wooden thing attached to a rope that Jake just managed to catch hold of and pull hard enough, so he didn’t have to get help with it. There was probably nothing there, just other people’s memories and mementos tucked away for safe keeping. That and broken junk. The funny thing with that being how hard those two things might be to tell apart. How did you weigh the value of something with a story attached to it? An old ribbon might tell the story of a love lost or even one found, but to him it was going to just look like a bunch of tattered thread.
Really though, it probably didn’t matter. Whoever these people had been, they weren’t alive anymore. At least they hadn’t showed up to ask for their house back. That would be awkward, wouldn’t it? They’d have to leave, since it wasn’t their house, but really they couldn’t. Not and survive. It hadn’t happened though.
Unfortunately that probably meant that they’d been turned. He’d never stopped to really consider it all before, and didn’t want to at that moment either. He was too tired for truly deep insight into anything. Instead he just popped his head into the dark space, just a bit of white colored light coming through shutters on one side, letting him see the dust, cobwebs, and piles of things, a few wrapped in garbage bags.
Hopefully those weren’t dead bodies. It would just about ruin his day if they were.
He had to step on the cross beams for safety, which made for an interesting little dance, step followed by unbalanced pause, until Jake got to the far side, where he started looking through things, taking about half a minute per box.
There were photos of people, some of which he recognized, leaving him feeling a bit sad. He knew the old man in the picture for instance, Mr. Connors, and kind of recognized the woman as his wife. Westwood hadn’t been that huge, so everyone at least had an idea who the rest were. Most of them were dead, and the people left had been the ones that had run to the small town for safety, or were going through it when they realized that going hermit in the forest might be the safest thing to do, but that they might just lack the real world skills to make it stick.
He wasn’t having any luck finding anything, until he peeked inside a tied shut, heavy, black plastic bag. It was small, with a strangely shaped box in it. One with a picture of a tree stand on it. He really expected it to hold something else altogether, like more photos or maybe even books, because it was so heavy. It didn’t though, it just had the promised tree stand inside. With stacks of twenty dollar bills holding it in place. It was easily thousands of dollars.
Even tissue paper would have been better.
This stuff wouldn’t even make good bathroom tissue. It was too small and wouldn’t biodegrade right for the septic system they’d built. Sighing he was going to just leave it, but decided to take it down with him. Maybe someone would have use for it. Fire starter, or play money for the kids. After looking through a couple more boxes just in case there was the rest of what was needed for the day. The second to last one held what he’d been looking for.
Decorations.
He nearly yelled in glee, but didn’t want to shoot himself for it, since that would waste valuable work time he couldn’t spare. Instead Jake carefully crawled back down, pulling the large box and its smaller cousin then pushing at the boxes as they tried to fall on top of him. Kind of a controlled fall, Jake thought, as he lowered the much large one to the ground carefully. It had some real glass and ceramic ornaments in there after all. The smaller box he caught easily and set on top of the bigger one, and started dragging the whole thing over the mattresses and bedding, leaving a dusty line that someone was bound to complain about.
Oops? Well, it was in the spirit of Christmas, so maybe they wouldn’t whine at him directly about it.
Smiling he hurried to get the box to the stairs, which would have presented a problem, not wanting to drag the fragile boxes down the stairs, thumping and bumping the cargo, except that someone was just standing there, watching. Waiting. As if for him.
Heather.
“I’ll help you, if you want? That way things won’t get broken when Len comes. If he offers to help, just say no.” Her voice was airy and singsong, like she got when the multitudes of possible futures were almost too much for her to handle. She lived in a world that was pretty nearly impossible to track, Jake figured. From the sound of it, the way she put things, she didn’t just see what happened, she lived it. All of it. Sometimes all at once.
It made her accurate most of the time, but it still wasn’t perfect. Things could go wrong, people could do things she just couldn’t foresee at all. His theory was that she only saw what she thought might be really possible, to cut down on the millions of things that weren’t likely, but could happen.
“I can help too…” Len spoke from behind him, sounding friendly enough about the offer. He was just trying to save the pregnant girl some work after all, which was, in a way, the gentlemanly thing to do. Len was a good guy, no matter what else was going on.
Jake shook his head though.
“Apparently not, if we do that, Heather says some things get broken. Probably my fault, but we should give her the benefit of the doubt, just in case.” It wasn’t like her ability was a secret or anything. She gave warnings for things all the time. Sometimes major things, mostly little stuff that didn’t seem important on the surface. It was though. Everything was to her. Each breath was a part of her puzzle. The one she fought to put together, even as the pieces kept changing shape.
Jake traded places with her, so that she was above him on the stairs and he’d be the one walking backwards, trying not to slip or stumble over his own feet. He wasn’t pregnant, so if there was a fall, it would just be him, not him plus one. It was a lot more work than it should have been, thanks to the exhaustion he felt.
Oh well. He’d live. As long as he didn’t break his neck too badly.
Not for the first time Jake kind of wondered if things would be better off with a more real power or ability? Molly had kind of a cool one… which hardly seemed fair. She didn’t need to sleep at all. That would be useful right about now, he decided, trying to fight a yawn.
They got the boxes over by the tree and he managed to set the stand up pretty well and then get the tree wired to a hook on the ceiling.
“Now all we have to do is decorate before company shows up and we’re all set.” He didn’t say it loud enough for the fates to have heard. Jake knew he hadn’t. That fact didn’t stop them from messing with him anyway. They always did.
Stupid fates. Always screwing with a guy. He smiled at the thought as he froze, just before things started.
A firm knock came from the kitchen door, the one they all used most of the time. Jake didn’t run over, but figured it was somebody, possibly even a dignitary or two, come early. Wiping his hands on his pants, just to get the dust off, he got there just in time to see Sammi open the door. She moved efficiently now, not bothering to fake being as clumsy as a child. It made her look older from a distance. Graceful and light. Like a ballerina. Poised and ready.
He got there just in time to see the second group of people just appear, being teleported in. It was interesting to see but not a lot like a movie would have shown it. No slow fade or flash of light, people were simply there. The air didn’t pop either, which he always figured it would, being displaced as it was. Maybe it got exchanged, sent back to the place they’d all started?
The two groups were different looking, and larger than he’d thought. There were eleven in the first one, and he even recognized a few of them. The Bawdri portion of the events. Darian, who was their leader, and Robert, who did something very different. What that was Jake didn’t know. He seemed pretty much like a commando though, and had integrated himself into a military group without any trouble at one point. So… not the kings house boy, most likely. Unless Darian liked to keep really tough servants on staff? The rest of the group was more mixed, including a few attractive women who were dressed far more nicely than anyone else would be that d
ay.
Jake hoped it didn’t make them feel uneasy. At least five of the Bawdri looked ready to go to a Victorian ball, not the House’s humble little makeshift party. They looked good though. Youthful, like a theater group being nobles for a play. With better clothes though. Even Darian looked like someone had just gotten their dad to help them out with it. Their young looking father. It was strange, but while he’d dressed up nicely, he hadn’t gone in for the full on regalia of the others. Just a nice black outfit of heavy cloth.
The next group had to be made of telepaths. At least the old guy who was their leader, Lamont, was with them, so it was probably a clue. The whole group stared at him, so he thought hello at them with a decent amount of focus, getting smiles in return. They only had ten people though.
Then the third group came, just as large, Valkyries, followed by four more so quickly Jake couldn’t take time to tell who was who. Then a single group of three to finish things off, though they weren’t holding hands when they came. So probably other Teleporters. They had the right hair and orange or yellow eyes, which was a giveaway. Plus the whole teleporting in thing, of course.
Sammi looked at them all, and bowed, her face a perfect blank. Jake didn’t need to be told to do the same thing this time. It still hurt across the stomach from the bullet wound, but it was survivable.
She nodded around at the various groups, obviously counting.
Finally she gave them a slightly peeved smile.
“This is rather more than we agreed upon. By about fifty people. All are welcome of course, but we didn’t prepare for this many.”
That was an understatement, Jake knew. One so great he could barely imagine what they were going to do with everyone. Would they even fit inside all at once? He really didn’t know.
Well, they’d get to find out, wouldn’t they?
Chapter two
Jake felt a fine line of panic starting to run through the center of his spine as the hoards began to descend on him. At first he really thought they were going to rush past him, into the warmth of the House, which was a good idea, except for the fact that Lois would see them, and he very badly wanted her to get a warning first, so that her mind didn’t break from this. They just weren’t ready for them at all. That didn’t stop them from moving. Like an evil unstoppable wave of destruction.
He very nearly drew down on them, just to hold them back for a moment, his hand actually starting to move. No one noticed it except Sammi, who took the hand firmly and held it for a few moments, which got hostile looks from about half the crowd. Not just slightly put off either, actual rage filled some of the faces.
Jake went cold then. He was simply not going to put up with people showing up to accuse him of things he hadn’t done. She wasn’t a little girl, they hadn’t had sex, and her taking his hand had been to protect them, so they could just take their judgments of him and stuff them right back where it belonged.
He was about to say all that when Cam came out of the kitchen, goggled at the group and then nodded, walked up on the other side of him and took his other hand. For some reason, after a few seconds, that got most of the angriest ones to settle, even though Sammi’s grandfather suddenly glared, even though he hadn’t been before. Then Jake got it, what this was really all about.
It wasn’t him at all. It was them.
How stupid. Racial prejudices now? At the end of the freaking world? That was about the stupidest thing he’d heard of. Ever. After a few seconds he shook his head at them all. It would look sad, but he didn’t have energy for a lot more. Not in regards to the dumbest thing he’d actually seen in days. Even Becky’s attacks on him made more sense. She had an actual reason to feel afraid of him. It wasn’t rational, but it was something that could be seen. This was just… Moronic. Something inside of him suddenly felt a bit strange. Cold. This was exactly the wrong thing for them to do.
Couldn’t they see that? It was so obvious. Jake sighed and shook his head again, then spoke as loud as he dared in the open air.
“Right. First thing then, if you want to elect me your “Very Good Man” or whatever you individually want to call it, then fine. I have rules though and the first one is that we all have to try to get along and not tear into each other. The second is that you all have to wait out here, so I can go and tell Lois how many extra have come. She’s a pacifist, but may just kill me anyway. If so… Well, still try to get along, will you? We don’t have time for BS like that anymore.” They really didn’t. Then had they ever? There was always something better to do than hate someone you don’t even really know.
He let go of the girls’ hands, noticing that at least the telepaths were all smiling and about half of Cam’s people were smirking or even chuckling a little. He knew who they were because of the hair and eyes. All of them had either wild red hair that looked completely fake, being far too bright, or brownish red, which looked normal enough. The eyes were all either yellow or orange though, kind of a giveaway, like he’d thought earlier. Plus they all stood around Morris, who was, Jake thought, their leader. That or he was just really bossy. It really looked like they were planning to protect the man with their lives if they had too, which hopefully wouldn’t be needed at a Christmas party. It would spoil the mood a bit. It was an odd group for that kind of protective detail, half women, some of them boys no older looking than Cam, who was fourteen. It didn’t have the feeling of the secret service ready to do their jobs, true, but Jake didn’t doubt they’d try really hard if it came to it.
At least they had a sense of humor about things. It was refreshing.
Lamont, leader of the Telepaths gave him a small bow, which suddenly had the whole lot of them doing the same thing, even Darian. They didn’t all look pleased by his words, but most of them managed to at least plaster a smile on their faces, trying to look civil or something near that state. Just as he started to turn, to go and face possible death in the kitchen, a soft voice called out. It wasn’t anyone he recognized, one of the Bawdri, but not one he’d met. She looked about seventeen, maybe eighteen years old at a guess, which given everything probably meant closer to two or three hundred. She wasn’t hot, not really, but she was exotic looking, and had those interesting eyes that they all did. Sammi was cuter, but the woman could have been her sister. Given that she stood right next to Darian, she might just be. She was also dressed very richly. More so than anyone else there.
“You might wish to tell your servant that we brought provisions and gifts of food and drink, to offset the added bodies. Prepared dishes as well. I don’t know how well they’ll mesh with the offerings being provided, but none shall go hungry due to our… unfortunate complications. I’ll leave that to others to explain as to why it happened, but, if perhaps we could start bringing those gifts? Then the servants won’t have to feel as stressed. It only makes sense that A Very Good Man would think of others first, even those beneath him.” She smiled, as if what she was getting at actually made sense.
Servants? Beneath him? How did he even begin to explain the whole situation without offending the woman? She clearly meant well, and was genuinely trying to help smooth things over, but he wasn’t going to let anyone be treated as less than they were. Not today. It was Christmas and that would just about ruin things. He didn’t stammer out an awkward statement while blushing, which surprised him, that having been his makeshift plan. Instead he just kind of wished he didn’t have to be there at all, as both the girls next to him stayed quiet. At least Sammi seemed to get why it was a problem, looking down and trying to fight a smile as she was.
Oddly enough it wasn’t one of them that spoke, but Robert, the gun wielding dark haired Bawdri. On him, in this light, the eyes made him look slightly Hispanic, instead of Asian. The skin was just as light as the rest of the group though. It worked for the man, but looked a little cold. Like he might not be a very nice person. Really though, so far, he didn’t seem that bad when Jake had spoken to him. A bit bossy and all that, but that could be anything from not understand
ing the situation at the time, to just thinking everyone else in the world was a whiner. When a problem wasn’t something you felt yourself it was pretty easy to think that way. Wrong, but understandable.
He got the situation right this time though, and spoke softly, though loud enough for the whole group to hear. He eyed Jake the whole time, in case it was too noisy for outside work right now. It was pretty close, but Jake didn’t draw, so the man kept going with a nod in his direction.
“Lois isn’t a servant Alyssian. She’s one of the leaders here. There are no servants, and everyone takes a turn doing even the lowest of labors. It’s part of why they’ve made this work when so many other groups have failed.”
She raised a hand to her mouth, to cover it, looking at Sammi, as if scared suddenly. The blond girl nodded to her, a serious thing that communicated more than just a greeting. Jake thought so at least. He couldn’t tell what, of course, but that something was going on was clear.
“I…” The woman gave them all a worried look then, her words shocked Jake a little, since he expected her to complain about Sammi being used as kitchen help or something. The girl was a Princess after all. Alyssian didn’t mention that though.
“Surly they don’t make The Very Good Man…”
Robert smiled at least, nodding happily, even as some of the other Bawdri looked uncomfortable about the idea.
“Jake not only works, but he’s probably the hardest worker here, and no one is a lay about. It works very well, in fact. I suggest we all take notes and apply the lessons in our own lives.”
Sammi waved her right hand just a little, held at about chest height, but moving just enough for her task. It looked a little regal, so probably something done on purpose. When everyone stopped talking and looked at her, she gave a single nod and held up one finger, then leaned over to say something to Cam, who nodded.
