A Very Good Man

by P. S. Power

  They came more often then, for about two weeks, nine of them in all. All early in the day, and all of them police of one kind or another. On the good side that meant that at most the cops were down, nearly half the police force now. A lot fewer people to take out before things got back to normal. If any group had to be kept out of power in Westwood, that was the one. Why would they be hitting the house though? The police compound was all the way on the other side of town, even if they were making the super-zombies and throwing them at people, why would so many be coming at them? It might pay to make some visits soon, if they could get through the harvest. If nothing else they should check to see who else was still alive in the other groups.

  It took everyone working full time to do it and in the end they were starting to run out of certain things, like jars for canning, and screens for drying things on. Jose showed them how to tie up some things in the breeze for that. It worked, since the fall rains hadn't come yet. The whole thing took a week longer than Jake thought it would and everyone was exhausted by the end. They still had to find more jars, which meant going to town. Jake smiled when he thought of it. Road trip!

  There was an old processing plant on the east side, away from nearly everything, they used to make pickles there before they closed, four years prior. He'd had a job there for about a week, a temp thing that first made his parents happy, then got him yelled at for not being good enough to be kept on. A month later they closed.

  His parents didn't talk about it after that, but the feeling had always been that his lack of work ethic had caused it.

  Still, he roughly knew where it was and the internal layout. If no one had loosed a dozen zombies in there, maybe something could be found? If not he could check other places. There was nothing for him to do at the moment except working on the forge and even Burt told him that doing that while everyone else worked on food frantically wouldn't go over so well.

  “We can sell going to try for more material for things though. Who all is going with you?”

  All? Jake wrinkled his brow as his head shook no.

  “Just me. I don't think I need anyone else really. Who would I take? Dave? Carl? They're both needed here. Carl needs to get a hunting crew out as soon as we can save the meat and Dave needs to be here, especially if I'm gone for a few days.” Jake didn't spell out why. He tried not to anyway.

  Burt asked, honestly baffled.

  “Why? I mean, I get that it may be dangerous, with the new zombies, but he seems to do alright. He got one of the last ones by himself and helped with another, that's better than anyone but you and Vickie.”

  Ah. Burt was so innocent in his own way. It was touching really.

  “Not for zombies, in case anyone flies off the deep end. Everyone's been pushed too far and some of them might crack. We need to keep someone here that's willing to kill people if they do.”

  “But... he's just a boy Jake. I know he's a tough kid but... isn't that a lot to ask?”

  It was, no doubt about it. Really, if there was anyone else he would have taken Dave with him, out into the wild world where he was happiest. That couldn't be this time though. The rules needed an enforcer around, one that no one would doubt. They wouldn't doubt Dave.

  The second person wouldn't at least.

  He'd have to talk to him, because the kid could easily start taking the rules more to heart than ever before if it was up to him to deal justice. Kill people for sneezing or sitting down for a few minutes in an otherwise full day of work. That sounded about like what would happen if he took too long. For some reason Jake couldn't stop the smile from coming to his lips.

  “You know, if we ever get the world back to normal, I'll probably be put to death for some of the things I've done. Even if the courts agree it was needed at the time. Dave too. It'll be up to people like Nate, and you, even Carley, to put it back together then. You'll have to fight for it, if it comes to that. Once the fighters are gone, they'll probably try to turn the rest of you into slaves. I wonder if the whole thing is just a depopulation effort anyway? If so I pity the people that planned it. The world isn't going to be the same I don't think. If they expect to come out of some hole in the ground in a few years and find sheep ready to slaughter, someone is going to be very surprised.”

  Burt gave him a funny look and shook his head. The older man didn't disagree with him really, or agree, instead he changed the topic as if nothing had been said.

  “I think you should take some people with you, we can spare a few now and people are getting scared, because of the attacks and the rest. If you and a... select crew, are going to get more materials, that would set some minds at ease. Let me run it past Nate? See who's willing to go?”

  The idea made him feel uneasy for some reason. A good one it turned out. Nate came to find him instead of calling him in, since he was building the outer structure of the forge, thin walls and a roof, old plywood they'd had sitting off a ways, it didn't look like much, but might keep the rain out. Some. It really had the look of a boy's backyard fort. But it would have a chimney and a metal “hood” over the fire to send the smoke up and out, so it wouldn't stand and kill whoever tried to work there. He had the frame almost up already and a dirt floor, which the book on it said was traditional and would work well enough. Dirt didn't burn too easily. In fact the metal would be on fire first.

  He kept working as Nate announced, seeming proud of his people, the group that had volunteered. All four of them.

  “Tipper didn't wait to find out what it was about, she just stepped forward, but we know she's solid. Clint, well you know him, but he wants to give it a try, because Justine volunteered too. The last I'm not sure about, Heather, the new girl? She's pregnant, but Lois keeps saying that isn't the same as sick. I don't know. The girl seemed pretty adamant about the idea. Seems to think she can find things for us. It's how she was surviving before she came here, so maybe it's worth...”

  Jake shook his head.

  “No. I'm going and I'm not taking a pack of people I can barely stand being around. Half the reason I'm going right now is to get away from them specifically.” A bit of venom dripped from his voice.

  Nate wrinkled his face and tilted his head meaningfully before stopping and straightening his white and red plaid shirt. It had some little black lines too and short sleeves. Comfortable in the September warmth that probably wouldn't last another two weeks. He looked worried suddenly.

  “Them? I... kind of expected you to have a problem with Clint. The man's an ass. Are you upset with Justine? I... though she's been doing pretty well since she got that second chance, better than before really. Goes out of her way to be useful and takes on extra work almost every day. A lot of people have to be pushed to just show up for their own tasks even if they volunteer. Is there something I don't know there?”

  Jake looked around and tried to figure out how to hold the hood up. From the roof or with a stand on the ground. Maybe both? The metal sheets weren't that heavy, but it would get warm and if it ever fell... well better to prevent collapse with a forge under it. He'd see if he could find some metal bars or poles that would work in town. Pipe maybe? Burt had some, but that was for another well like the one they'd driven, since it had worked.

  He snapped out of it and stared at Nate. They'd known each other since the third day, the second evening really, a runner had come up on the older man and he'd tried to talk it down. Jake had saved him by shooting the thing eighteen times. He really hadn't perfected the head shot yet. That zombie had been Nate's boyfriend, Miguel. They'd been together for two years and were seriously considering getting married, even if it meant taking a trip out of the country to do it. Nate had cried a week later when he told him that. For some reason he never blamed Jake for it though. Of course they hadn't taken his head or buried the body, they hadn't known to do it then. Since then Nate had sex with a couple of guys, but didn't have anyone steady.

  How could Jake explain his stupid problem with the women here? Nate had gotten men, from an ex
tremely limited pool, to have sex with him, while Jake couldn't get anything from the girls, even though they outnumbered the males by a decent percentage?

  He had to try. It wouldn't make a difference, but of everyone here, Nate was the only one that he could really trust not to tell everyone what he'd been thinking about. Not that it mattered. Not really.

  “Justine's fine. You're right about Clint though. I wonder if he was such a whiny little bitch Back Before or if this is just how he rolls now to compensate for the world being so screwed?” Jake shook his head.

  “It's the other two I have a problem with and they both know it.” He explained it all, quickly, a few lines for each. He didn't expect Nate to get it, not having the same issues and all, but the man nodded anyway at the end.

  “That's... horrible Jake. I, well, I can't really do anything about it, I knew you weren't that close to anyone, but I didn't know you were getting that kind of... disdain. I can talk to people, maybe...” The voice, a mellow tenor trembled a little at the end. Jake got it and said so.

  “But you and I both know that won't change anything. It's why I'm leaving.” Jake tried to smile at the other man, but he just felt tired of it already. Of everything. He didn't have anything left to live for and no one that mattered at all. Not really. It really didn't matter what he did, not anymore.

  Nate shook his head.

  “Really... you need to take at least someone, Carl maybe then, or Dave? Or, how about Molly?”

  Jake snorted and stared at the man hard, “She turned me down the night before she hopped into Holsom's bed. I'm not her type apparently. It's all of them, not just one or two. I... Nate, look... I'm leaving, probably in the spring next year, but I don't belong here. This isn't my place. I see the way they all look at me, hell, I don't blame them, but I think I can make it alone. I'd leave now if I could. Maybe get an accounting like you were going to do for Holsom and his women? Only, you know, remember that I was planning on voting for them to have a full share. I want to set a good precedent.” Jake sighed and followed it with a deep, slightly shuddering breath.

  “Right now I plan to wait, but you know, just in case? It won't be that different for me, I'll still be alone and I'll have a whole heck of a lot less pain. I don't like killing people you know. I hate it. Besides, everything is going well now, people are working and they won't go back now that they see how much better it is this way. You don't need me. More to the point, they don't want me here. I've taken enough now and I don't want to bother with it anymore.”

  If the other man understood at all, it didn't show on his face, he looked angry and perplexed, his breath puffed in and out a few times like a bull and he stalked off without saying anything more. In the six months they'd known each other, nearly seven now, that was the first time he'd done anything like that. Probably didn't want to yell at him for leaving, because that would get him shot. Being alone Jake wouldn't have to shoot anyone for stupid things like that at least. Well, unless he got too loud himself.

  The walls had to go up, but the roof should first he decided. Not that he knew about building things, but it just felt right. It would let him work without anything much in the way.

  The thing wasn't high, just enough to stand up straight without hitting your head, for the most part. About a seven foot clearance. A slant roof, like the greenhouse, for the same reason. Snow and rain. He had to cut a hole in the plywood for the chimney pipe, a nine inch circle. Actually that took longer than the roof itself, he had to wear through the wood with a chisel and it took time to do without leaving the whole thing ragged around the edges. He made it in about five hundred little cuts. Using a funny looking wooden mallet for it, which was round, so he didn't damage anything too much. Each layer of wood had to be cut and plywood had more of those than he'd figured at first. In the end the circle wasn't perfect, but it fit the pipe he had well enough. All he needed was to fix it into place, which he did with nails. He hammered them into the wood at an angle then pushed them against the pipe to hold it in place. He could have pulled it out, but only with force. It should serve for as long as anyone would want the building at least.

  As he struggled to get the roof in place one sheet of wood at a time, someone grabbed the other side and held it up. That made it a whole heck of a lot easier. Sometimes it really helped to have people around.

  Glancing over he saw that it was Jose. The man wasn't huge, but neither was the structure, so it worked pretty well. He kept it in place solidly while Jake ran around and hammered nails on the lower edge, then they did the other side. They had two ladders and one of them got used to get to the top, where he climbed along the roof beam in order to hammer that down and then the sides into place. It didn't wobble or anything, but then he'd used solid beams for everything. Eat your heart out four by fours, you can't beat a tree, not even a little one.

  The small man stood holding the ladder for him until he got all the way to the ground.

  “Gracias Mr. Jose.” Jake said simply.

  “It's nothing, Senor Jake.”

  Smiling happily, the man left him to work on the walls. It wouldn't be finished for a while, but the long walls were just a single sheet of plywood high, and two long. In twenty minutes he had them all up, making something that looked a lot like an old fashioned covered bridge, open still at either end.

  At dinner time he went in and sat where he always did. Dave next to him on one side and Tipper forcing her way in on the other.

  He didn't look at her.

  She kept staring at him, he could tell, but why didn't make any sense at all. Hadn't they pretty much already finished with all that crud? It was too much of a bother now. Why keep going over the fact that no one thought he was good enough?

  Jake ate quietly, but he normally did, so that wouldn't shock anyone. The people at the head table kept looking over at him though. Worried or something.

  Oh...

  Well fuck. He'd forgotten to mention to Nate not to tell everyone about his plans. Then again, did it matter? Gone was gone. He decided to just let things play out, since it was probably too late to change it anyway.

  The next morning he got up and left before most of the people were up at all. He took the smaller cart, the wooden one. Since he didn't want to inconvenience anyone and the large one was used to shift produce around still. He had a ten mile walk or so, and on main streets. There were a few cars to get around, but the whole thing was mainly open. Early on no one had tried to flee Westwood overly. In fact a lot of people had headed toward them. Small towns were safer than big ones. That was the theory at least.

  He didn't see anyone at all. The pickle plant was where he'd left it, and still locked up tight, the exterior looked solid, no holes or places for anything to get in at all. Grabbing a metal pry bar he'd brought, Jake worked on the padlock securing the front door for a while. That held, but the metal clasp gave out after only a few minutes of wrenching back and forth, which let the door open. It wasn't even that noisy, the screws just popping out of the wood on one side.

  The amazing thing about an empty pickle plant was the total lack of interior light. Or it should be. It didn't have windows and even during the day kind of dark. He didn't have a flashlight of course. Then neither did the zombies in their cages in the middle of the packing floor where the big conveyor belt used to be. Luckily they had lights overhead, so they could see.

  Separate things, the cages, ten in all. The look was odd, they were made of heavy metal grating that would have held under a lot of stress. Like what they used on bridges sometimes for cars to drive on. The lights over them were electric and the hum he heard was a generator, possibly in the basement. It wasn't loud at least and it gave him enough light to see by, which was handy. There was a single man, a police officer probably, who slept in a chair near the cells. Too close it seemed, for comfortable rest, out of possible arms reach, but inside two of the cages were other officers. They were turning, clearly, and moaned a little in discomfort. One of them saw him, delirium o
n his face, he implored with his eyes.

  “Kill me.” He whispered, a deep rasp that sounded pained.

  The regular zombies went crazy at the human sounds which made the guy in his chair wake up.

  “Shut the fuck up you freaks! Can't a guy get some sleep. Bad enough I have to be locked in here with you all. Mahoney better not be late this time. Three more fucking hours of this shit and I don't even get overtime. You either Roberts, you stupid fuck. You knew that the vaccine didn't work but you let that thing bite you anyway. So it's your own damn fault. Now the best thing you can do for us is help take out the resistance. Guerrilla warfare the Captain calls it. Ha! And you're the guerrilla, you sorry fuck.”

  That made some sense, they tried a vaccine and it failed? Making the problem even worse than it would have been without it. Brilliant. He should have expected it though.

  On the good side it didn't mean that every second new zombie would be like Roberts here. Or Rachel. Jake decided to help him, since he seemed to have a few hours and the other officer, the guard had shut his eyes again, even though the moaning and noise didn't stop at all.