A Very Good Man

by P. S. Power

  “Fuck!” The man yelled as the gun went off.

  He should have whispered Jake thought. If he'd whispered Jake might have paused for a bit. Yelling was a reason to shoot, dream or not.

  The bang caused a tumult, people couldn't help screaming being woken like that. The second man had a knife as well, so he got shot too. Now Jake could just hope he hadn't gotten anyone that he actually liked. That always made killing people harder.

  People started to stand in the room, including, by voice and the size of the silhouette, Nate, who the two men had been standing over, or at least near. He always took the position by the door, since it would be the one in the most danger if an attack came. Jake always pulled the far wall for the same reason. Or maybe not exactly the same. Really Nate did it because the others were afraid, Jake did it because he was.

  So not at all alike. It had worked out for Nate though, this time.

  Moving carefully past the form on the bed with him, just standing and walking on the mattress he flowed across the room toward the men on the floor by the door. Nate held his hands out and identified himself clearly. It was dark after all.

  “I'm Nate Green.” He said.

  “Jake.” The answer was automatic. It was also pretty close to the first thing they'd said to each other, on the second day, when they'd met on the street.

  The shadowed form nodded and Jake pointed at the people on the floor as everyone else started to gather around slowly.

  “Who...” This came from behind him, the woman from his bed. Nate knelt and examined the first one, checking the pulse at the neck.

  “Dead.” He said, just in time for the one next to him to surge up and try to attack.

  Moron.

  He could have possibly escaped if he hadn't moved. Jake thought this right after he blew the man's brains out. It was instinct now, to shoot at the least sign of trouble. This time it worked. It would probably be a problem if things ever became more civilized again though. Kill the mailman for knocking or hunt down the neighbor's dog for being a little too loud.

  Carl came to the door, massive, muscular and grumbling slightly, a deep sound that was half felt, not just heard. He had a lit candle with him.

  “Who'd we lose?” He asked, noticing that Jake was armed. Not why it happened. Not yet. Just who.

  Then he noticed the knives and grunted again, kicking one of the blades free from a dead hand. Lowering himself he held the candle close to the faces, one couldn't be recognized, but the other was one of Holsom's crew. The other guy would be the last man then. Jake thought the clothing matched. Hard to tell given the light. It made perfect sense that Holsom would send two goons instead of trying to take Nate himself. This way the softies with them could say it hadn't been their pretty boy Derrick and give him yet another chance.

  Maybe he really could get that gun for Sammi.

  Jake just sighed. It was going to be a long day. It always was when you had to argue with stupid people.

  He quickly reloaded the forty-five, an old and slightly clunky revolver, then strapped his nine into place. The forty-five went into the small of his back, which was a constant annoyance but mainly when sitting. Since he only sat at meals anymore it wasn't such a huge issue. The light was still dim, so Jake asked Carl to hold the candle while he dragged the bodies outside. Nate signaled a few people in the dark room to help as well and someone moved in next to him, grabbing a shoulder and pulled the man down the stairs with a series of thumps. A lot of noise for this early in the day, but everyone would be awake already. Gunfire always woke him up at least. Better for getting people going than coffee.

  Outside he could make out his helper's face, Carley. She looked scared and stared at him nervously for a few seconds, then hugged him. It was a simple panic reaction, he knew, so Jake didn't read anything into it. It was nice though, even if it was coming from someone that really didn't like him very much. Since all this happened he'd only gotten three hugs, and one of those had been a zombie. The other had been Nate.

  “Fuck. I hate this. I hate it all.” She said, keeping her voice low, nearly in his left ear.

  “Yeah. It's really screwed up. We deserve at least eight solid hours sleep a night and here these assholes don't even let us get six. I say we kill them both... Oops, too late.” He whispered this back and the woman nearly lost it, she had to tuck her head into his collar to muffle the sounds. That was fine. As long as she wasn't loud about it, she could do what she wanted. It was a confusing half-laugh, half-sob thing right now, but whatever worked for her, right?

  They were all dressed. No one wore pajamas to sleep in anymore, even in the heat. That could be miserable, but they all did it. Not everyone was a cleaner though.

  Carley wore a sensible pair of shorts and a light shirt. Jake had on jeans, a t-shirt and a heavy denim jacket. Way too hot, but comfort was a luxury for after this was over. A few layers of heavy material had been all that saved him on two occasions already. One of them just coming out of sleep, a lot like this. Only with zombies instead of armed idiots.

  The pile of bodies was impressive now, five of them. Getting a machete from Burt's workshop, Jake beheaded them all. It took work, and enough hits that his hand and arm got sore before he was done, but ten minutes after he was done the bodies were ready to be buried. Tipper and Vickie helped him load the cart and they started down the road. It would be a pain to take the bodies that far away, nearly a mile toward town, like he planned. It always was. Not doing it meant a chance of drawing in zombies like moths to a flame though. Burt figured it was the blood, the scent of it, but whatever the reason, they'd try to find fresh dead. It took an hour to get nearly two miles away, and another for the shallow grave. If they'd wanted a Christian burial they should have left a note, because what they got was Tipper saying a few words.

  “You stupid fucks. You deserved this.” She said, smiling.

  Not well balanced Tipper, Jake realized, then who was? Vickie laughed a little, not wanting to seem too sane herself apparently, that or it was an inside joke.

  Jake just sighed.

  “Yeah... You really did. Except Sara maybe. She should have just shut up. Sleep now. Rest in peace.” They would, Jake knew, that's why he'd taken their heads.

  Zombies could live without a head, keep moving and even attacking. That was a bit gross of course and eerie as a single arm kept moving or a lower torso tried to walk, flopping on the ground unable to balance. Without eyes, but intact, they walked into things, and without ears or a nose they couldn't hunt well at all. They keyed in on sound first, but Burt thought they must be able to smell things from a long way off too. That was why they'd eventually work their way toward people. It was just a guess though, no one knew how this all worked for certain.

  The trip back was faster, not having to pull the bodies in the high sided metal cart, which had nearly the interior space of a hollowed out family car. The wheels were car tires and there were four of them, the body made of welded inch and a quarter steel tube. It was the last thing Burt had made before the oxygen and acetylene had run out. If it broke they were out of luck until either they got an arc-welder going or one of them learned blacksmithing. They'd be careful, Jake decided. They couldn't afford the time off from hauling wood, he didn't think.

  He took time to wash before going in, just scrubbing in a little plastic bucket that people used for that. Then Jake decided to do the whole thing and got his razor and soap, taking his time to get really clean, cold water or not. Yeah, he'd get all nasty with the wood, but handling the dead always made him feel dirty. Plus, the fresh corpses had gotten blood on him when he took their heads off. He changed into his other set of clothes and washed the ones he was wearing before breakfast. Those he hung on the line out back to dry. They'd be stained, but then, what wasn't?

  Breakfast was just oatmeal and bits of deer meat, the last of it from the one Carl had gotten them. They really needed to get some animals if they could. Goats or sheep maybe. You could eat those. Goats would ea
t anything he'd heard, so maybe they could eat grass or whatever, instead of human food? There were farms around and not all of them had people, so maybe there would be animals there? If they could catch them. Or kill them. Fresh meat would be welcome too. Having their own would be better for winter.

  Of course the end of the world would come and Jake would find himself still not getting laid and thinking about becoming a farmer. It figured really. He glared around the table he sat at, they had a lot of them here, nine for the seventy odd that lived at the house, but he normally sat at this one with Tipper, Dave and Molly. Today he had Molly on one side of him and Carley on the other. Begin degrading tirade in three, two, one...

  Carley started then, almost perfectly, in time with his internal count.

  It was like magic. Jake nearly smiled.

  “I think that one of the women should be in charge of getting the firewood. Too many men are in control here. Two of the cleaning teams, Nate, Burt...”

  Jake turned and gave her a funny look, “Um, Carley, Tipper may like sleeping with women at times, but I think it's a little rough claiming that makes her a man. Don't you?”

  No one would think Vickie a man. If Carley was the hottest woman in the place, Vickie was the second and the margin was close. Plus she had a temper, if she were actually a man in drag no one would mention it. Tipper chuckled at the scene and Dave perked up around a mouthful of oatmeal.

  “Really Carley, what kind of male-centric thinking is that? What, did you think I was in charge of our team? I did put the idea forward, but no takers yet.”

  Seriously.

  He had. The kid wanted to have them scour every house in the city one after the other. It was a good plan, but it would probably lead to them all being dead. That or zombies. Get too tired for too long and they got you. Everyone knew that. Even Dave, which probably accounted for why he never really pushed that hard for the idea. Now if they had about a hundred teams...

  The woman next to him blinked.

  “Oh, but Molly said you were in charge Jake.” The curly headed blond still wore shorts and the skimpy t-shirt. Her legs hadn't been shaved in a long time if ever, but that kind of social nicety had lasted about... What really? Thirty seconds after the first real announcement? No more than a few days. Most people didn't bother shaving anything now. He did, Nate and a few other of the men too, most grew beards. Burt's was long enough to show he'd had it for at least a year. Still, under the hair Carley had nice legs.

  Jake couldn't see them right now though, so he nodded instead of covertly staring.

  Tipper spoke gently, but pointedly.

  “Molly hasn't been paying attention for a while now. She lives in her own world. Don't you Molly?”

  The girl flipped her off, “I pay attention. Enough to know that everyone around here is screwed up beyond saving. I should just leave.”

  Jake turned to Carley, trying to change the subject. It wouldn't bug him if the chubby girl left overly. Anyone could if they wanted. It would be a virtual death sentence for her though. Really, it would probably be kinder to just kill her outright and have done with it. Some people could do it and survive maybe, but this girl needed other people too much. Molly yammered on about leaving at his back.

  Jake shrugged at Carley and gave her a nod.

  “Burt asked me to get the wood and set up some wood stoves and water heaters. If you want to be in charge of the wood gathering I'm all for it. I'm sure you'd do a great job. I'll get you a gun, one of the ones we confiscated last night, just for the symmetry of the thing. In case you have to shoot Holsom. Do you know how to shoot?” He made his voice sound sincere. Easy enough, because he was.

  No one liked Carley, she was pushy, headstrong and as often as not, stupidly wrong. But only about gender issues and then mainly because she thought men controlled everything when they clearly didn't. Not anymore at least. People listened to her anyway. She had a loud mouth, and used it, but could be compelling. As long as she didn't get into a position of real power, she'd probably do better than he would. Jake would just go along in case any zombies showed up. Well, and do his share of the work. That too, of course.

  “Um, no... I used a pistol of my aunt's once, but I didn't like it.” She sounded scared and hesitant, so Jake tried for a reassuring smile and nod.

  “No big thing, no one really likes them. Well, except men with penis size issues. I can show you how to shoot before we go. With any luck Holsom will be trouble and you can take care of him for us. Who's all going?”

  They had a ten person team for the day, more than he figured on, to tell the truth. They'd need more, but the first ten could figure things out, then they'd bring larger groups once they knew what was what. After breakfast he ran and got one of the guns from the armory, which was a closet in the cellar, just inside the door. He signed for it and made a notation of who it was for. Vickie had insisted on that part, so Jake went along with it. Tipper had just nodded at the time too, even though it probably wouldn't make any kind of a difference at all.

  “Sign it back in if you don't need it anymore, but for now I suggest you keep it with you. We need more shooters and you clearly have the chops for it.” That... was probably true.

  Carley didn't exude rage or anger maybe, or insanity. She also didn't back down easily either, and would stand up to anyone, even if it was a moronic idea at the time. For instance the day before she'd been willing to take him to task, even knowing that he regularly killed people. That was pretty hardcore. She hadn't even been armed at the time.

  That probably meant she'd pull the trigger when needed.

  A lot of people just couldn't. They thought they could, but with a zombie running at them, they only saw an unarmed person and wouldn't. That's why most people stayed around the house like they did. It was safe and secure feeling. No pesky chance of having to shoot anyone.

  The shooting lesson didn't take long, since it wasn't about marksmanship yet, just about pointing and pulling the trigger and knowing how to reload. They lined up on an old tree going into the woods that would probably be cut down before winter, since it was dead already.

  Carley missed it twice, making Holsom laugh at her. Jake spun on the man.

  “Enough.” He growled, low and angrier than he'd intended. The man smiled back, managing to make it smarmy, which turned rapidly into sly.

  “Sorry, didn't know you two were a couple. Did she do that thing with her mouth yet? I swear the girl could suck a Ping-Pong ball through a garden hose.”

  Jake grimaced and so did Carley, who managed to blush too.

  Really, he'd figured Carley for gay, or at least smart enough to not fall for this brand of dickweed. She fired again, this time making a small puff appear on the tree.

  “Good! Go ahead and try it again.” The nine millimeter she'd fired again six more times, five of them hitting. Not perfect, but she could shoot and he had her reload the clip herself, leaving her with a backup already loaded.

  As soon as she walked over toward them Derrick smiled at her and winked.

  “So, Carley, which one of you wears the pants in your relationship?”

  Shaking his head Jake spoke calmly. It sounded calm at least. He was about half a second from just executing the man, but then, he probably would be until the guy died. Hopefully soon. It wasn't kind of him to think that kind of thing, but it was just the truth. The man needed to die for everyone's good.

  “He's trying to get us to fight by making up a relationship between us. As if we were too stupid to figure out his “clever” tricks? Let's not fall for it. There is no relationship, and if there was, we'd obviously both wear the pants. Everyone wears pants now. By the way Holsom, if you keep making trouble, I will shoot you. I'm looking for a reason after you sent your buddies to kill Nate last night. Honestly I may just decide that's reason enough.” Jake waved at him and kept his voice low and dark.

  “Yeah, don't bother denying it, everyone knows. Could you get more obvious than sending in your own lackeys? Yo
u should have at least tried to get some of your girlfriends to try it instead. That had to be the most moronic thing I've ever seen. You couldn't even wait a few days for people to let their guards down?”

  It was a dig and from the looks on their faces, everyone else really didn't know it yet. Well, you'd think someone would have guessed by now. Other than him. Carley gave him a really funny look then and nodded.

  “Exactly. The only thing is, we'll tie you to that tree so I can shoot you if it comes down to it. That's why I have the gun. To kill you.” She pointed at the ex-cop with it, the safety still off. Normally a very bad idea. Well, if you liked the person you were gesturing at.

  Looking at her Jake kept chanting to himself for the weapon to go off. Trying to will it to happen, smiling hopefully. It didn't. Well, anyone that thought life was fair was dead or a zombie by now. Holsom didn't look scared, which made no sense. There had to be at least a forty percent chance that the weapon would go off the way she'd been holding it and waving it around. After she put it away Jake smiled big, forced and a bit resigned.