by Joshua Guess
“There is enough dry food, canned goods, and staple foods here to last at least two years, and enough weapons to arm twenty people. Thousands of rounds of ammunition, melee weapons...whoever owned this place was ready for anything.”
Pabiyan studied Kell closely. “Da, but what do you think about it, not what do you observe.”
It had been a long while since anyone other than Laura and Kate asked him to use his brain. “I think it's a lot preparation wasted. Whoever this guy—or woman, I guess—was, they obviously didn't get to use any of it.”
He looked at the room, Spartan and sterile. “I think this person was sad.”
Pabiyan's eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I do. Some people are okay with being alone, I guess, but this guy didn't even accept the possibility that someone else might join him. There's one bed, and that's a single. There aren't any pictures of family or friends, no decorations. I think this place was a hobby he used to fill up an empty spot. Which means on some level, he knew there was something missing. Just my penny analysis, anyway.”
“Da,” Pabiyan said with a nod. “I agree. Even sadder that he did not get to use it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. All that time and effort, and it did him no good at all.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kell spent an uneventful six days living in the bunker alone while his mentor returned home to bring more runners. The find was too good to leave to chance, and during that time he took notes, planning out the items he would need to find to begin working on the solution to the plague. He also read one of the paperbacks lying around the main office.
“More James Patterson,” he had muttered to himself.
When the fleet of runners finally did show up, he saw them coming from the roof of the warehouse. Though Pabiyan had warned him to play it safe, Kell grew bored with nothing to do but read and write, so he explored the small town, dispatching zombies and hoping to find another cache of goods. The search hadn't yielded results, but that was fine with him. It kept him busy.
It took most of a day to load everything from the warehouse, but finally he was on his way home. The drive back took half a day since the roads were totally cleared by the fleet of runners and little enough time had passed that the undead were unable to congregate in large numbers. Kell sat in the cab of Pabiyan's truck, watching the miles roll by while a strange anxiety built up. He couldn't put his finger on it at first, but after a while he realized it was anticipation; he was going home, he would see Laura and Kate.
“Why are you smiling?” Pabiyan asked.
“Just thinking happy thoughts,” Kell said.
Ten days gone, and when the gates came into view, the first reaction Kell had was involuntary.
“Goddamn, it's good to be home.”
“Da, my boy. That it is.”
“Oh, ladies,” Kell said in a low singsong voice. “I've got something for you.”
Laura and Kate came out of the bus at a trot. Laura was smiling, and threw her arms around him, and in the moment he ignored the urge to treat her like a china doll, picking her up and spinning her in a circle. She squealed with a small child's laughter, and as he set her back on her feet she gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.
“Missed you, big fella.”
He turned to Kate, who looked unusually serious. More so than he had seen her since moving in. She approached him slowly, taking in his tall form. Kell tried a weak smile, and saw the corner of her mouth twitch.
Then her open hand shot out, catching him in the gut. By reflex he bent almost double, his abdomen screaming that he'd been shot, and Kate threw her arms around his neck. He recoiled but she held tight, hugging him tightly and pressing her head against his.
“I was so worried about you, you asshole,” she whispered.
“Yeah, I can tell, what with the hitting me and all.”
She pulled away, smiling. “You're a foot and a half taller than me. I had to get you closer to the ground to give you a hug.”
In disbelief, Kell said, “You could have just asked.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah, but then you wouldn't have gotten the point, which was to impress on you how fucking worried I was.”
“Okay, okay, sorry. Duly noted, I won't volunteer to stay out alone again.”
Kate nodded. “Damn right you won't.”
“So,” Laura said, grabbing them by the arms and pulling them inside. “What did you bring us?”
“Why, I'm shocked and appalled,” Kell said in mock outrage. “Surely you of all people should know it's against the rules to keep anything of value for ourselves.”
Laura's crooked smile and flat stare were priceless. “Don't give me that shit. No one goes out there and risks their ass and doesn't bring some good stuff back for themselves.”
Kell slipped his pack off, letting thump heavily onto the giant wooden wire spool they used as a table. “Guilty as charged. I don't know what it says about me that you never questioned my immoral behavior.”
From the bag he pulled two items from the bunker, extendable police batons. Kate took one, Laura the other. “I've got one for myself, too. I remember Kate saying she wanted one of these, and whoever owned the place, be believed in being prepared. Had a whole box full of them.”
Laura hefted her baton appreciatively, but Kate stepped back from the table into the small common area. She rolled the weapon in her hand, then flicked it out expertly. Kate made several complicated movements that looked like something from a sword fight. The tiny woman's wrists flexed and twisted with the baton, the weapon itself a blur of motion that cut the air audibly. Kate looked utterly relaxed as she did it, as if maneuvering the baton in such a small space were the easiest thing in the world.
“It'll do,” Kate said, kneeling and knocking the tip of the baton against floor to make it retract. “Thank you.”
Eyes wide, Kell nodded. “No problem. I also got you ladies this,” he said, pulling a small grocery bag out. “It's not much, and I hope you're not embarrassed, but...”
Laura laughed. “Tampons. Sweet Jesus, man, I will bear your children.”
“Oh, nice,” Kate added. “There's booze, too?”
Kell handed her the only other item in the grocery bag, which was an economy-sized bottle of Ancient Ancient Age. “It's ten years old, which is supposed to be good from what I understand.”
“Who cares if it's good,” Laura said. “Pour some shots. You're home now. Let's have a little party.”
The next morning Kell found himself hung over and getting a lesson in combat. To no one's surprise, the two did not go together well at all.
Kell hit the mat for the third time in two minutes, the wind knocked out of him. As he struggled to breathe, climbing to his knees, rational Kell spoke up in the back of his mind.
At least you didn't throw up this time.
That was something, he supposed.
“You're untrained, but you have discipline. You learn fast. So until I say otherwise, you're working with me,” Kate said as she stood over him. “Laura and I agree. You need to learn some principles of self-defense before you go back out there.”
“I can--” A fit of coughing overtook him. “I can fight just fine.”
Kate bent down to look him in the eyes. “No, you can't. I've heard you explain how you fight zombies, and it's a good start. You look for weaknesses to exploit, and you use the strengths you have. But it isn't enough in the long run. Screwing around is going to get you killed. Relying on your armor is going to get you killed. Counting on being big and strong is going,” she said, punctuating each word with a light punch to his shoulder, “To. Get. You. Killed.”
She stood, stepping back from him gracefully. “You've got potential. You're smart enough to know how effective you've been so far at defending yourself. But it's also made you dangerously overconfident. The way you move when you fight reminds me of some beginner students I've seen who thought six weeks of training made them invincible.”
Kell finally made it to his feet. “Okay, I believe you. I really do.”
Kate smiled at him, and there was nothing pleasant in it. “Your head does, sure. But we need to drill the lesson home so your heart knows it. By the end of today's lesson I want you to believe there is absolutely no chance of you winning a fight against me, even though I'm half your size and weight.”
Kell groaned. “What the hell did you do before?” he asked, trying to buy a little recovery time.
She began to circle him slowly, forcing him to move in kind. “Oh, let's see...my dad was a Marine, and he wanted his little girl to be able to take care of herself. So when I was ten, he started showing me everything twenty years in the Corps taught him about fighting. Everything from disarming a man with a rifle to dirty tricks.
“In high school I began practicing Krav Maga with a friend of Dad's who moved here from Israel. From there I dabbled in Judo and Jujutsu, did some weapons training to build my wrist strength and control, and generally spent all my free time learning everything I could about fighting, self-defense, and body control.”
She moved in suddenly, and Kell stumbled backward to avoid being dropped like a lead weight for a fourth time.
“That's good,” she said. “Maybe because my dad and I spent so much time sparring together, it just kind of became my thing. I did other stuff. You know, dated people and eventually got married. Had a book club. But I always loved the martial arts, especially the practical aspects. My husband encouraged me to make a business out of it long before he and I got married.”
There was pain in her eyes as she remembered him, the loss written across her face. “Long story short, I ended up with several large contracts, training law enforcement, some military, that kind of thing.”
“Holy shit,” Kell said. “You taught soldiers how to kill?”
She grinned that evil grin. “No, I taught them how to live. Just like I'm going to do with you.”
Kate stopped, arms at her sides and appearing totally relaxed. “Now I want you to kick the shit out of me if you can, K. And I'll teach you why you can't.”
Kell pushed down the groan that so desperately wanted to escape, and with some reluctance tried to beat up a little girl.
Twenty minutes later he sat against a wall in the corner of the main building used as a training area, tilting his head back and holding a hand to his face, hoping his nose wasn't broken.
Kate was on the other side of the mat talking with Johnson, who had been sitting with a number of his fellow guards watching as Kell was soundly destroyed by a woman who had many features in common with a feather. As soon as the lesson was over, Johnson approached and asked if they could join in next time. Kell fervently hoped so; practicing against Kate was like trying to fight a whirlwind made of knives. Knives that droned on with a constant stream of snarky comments while they cut him.
One of the guards ambled over to Kell, offering him a hand up. Grateful, Kell took it and stood.
“She's something else,” the man said.
Kell snorted, which sent a sharp wave of pain through his face. “No kidding, man. I feel like I've been through a wheat thresher.”
The other man winked at him. “Yeah, but I'll bet you get the other side of the coin when you get home, huh?”
For a moment Kell didn't understand, then ice filled his veins. “It's not like that. Not at all. We're roommates. Friends.”
“Oh, come on. You live with her and Laura, and you're telling me you never hit that? I--”
Then Kell was on him, pinning the man to the ground and slamming his fists into the guard wildly. Where his careful self-control usually rested there was only the bright red fire of uncontrolled rage; Kell ignored the shouts that followed, the pleas for him to stop from the bloody mess beneath him.
“You motherfucker! You sick piece of shit! You know what they went through!”
Kell's screams were cut off as someone wrapped a forearm around his throat. It was just enough to stop him from taking a breath, but it didn't register to him as the warning it was. He struggled to land more blows, then felt his arms being grabbed by more people. Adrenaline and wrath pushed him onward, dragging the weight of bodies trying to hold him back as he bent toward his victim.
“Sorry about this,” a voice said in his ear.
Then everything went dark.
A short while later he was sitting with Kate in the big man's office. Jack was an older man, and the room he worked out of had been a maintenance office at one time. Kell stared at the floor in misery.
“I would like to know what happened, please,” Jack said, his voice quiet.
Kell tried to speak, but couldn't form words. He shook his head.
“Kate, would you care to explain?” Jack asked.
She looked at Kell, then the man who led the entire Complex. “From what I heard, the guard he attacked was insinuating that K was having, or should be having, an intimate relationship with me or Laura. Possibly both.”
“And is he?” Jack asked in that same quiet tone. Kell looked up at that, the fire inside him roaring back to life, but Jack's expression stopped him. There was no avarice in it, no judgment, but simply a desire to have all the information possible.
Kate shook her head. “No, sir. K lives with us. He's our friend, but he has gone out of his way to treat us as people first. I don't think he's even capable of seeing us romantically. Whether that's a result of how we met--” she gave Jack a significant look “--or because he lost his own wife, I don't know. I tend to think it's a little of both.”
Jack studied them both for a long while. “I'm sure you understand I can't let something like this slide, yes? The guard you attacked will answer to me about what he said when I ask him his half of the story. I don't take kindly to men who ignore the trials others have lived through. But your reaction is not acceptable, son. Not at all.”
Kell swallowed the blood in his mouth, flowing through his sinuses from his nose. “I know, sir. God, I feel awful. I was tired and--” he almost said hung over but remembered at the last moment that his booze were contraband “--in pain from the lesson, and I'd been feeling sick this morning to start out with. I lost control. I can't explain how much that bothers me.”
“It bothers me, too, son. I understand the reaction, but we can't have people breaking jaws and beating men half to death over things like this. You're going to be punished. You know that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Kate,” Jack said. “Is this the first time you've heard something like this?”
She sighed. “No, sir. Laura and I have both heard people gossip.”
Kell was horrified. “Jesus, why didn't you tell me? They shouldn't--”
“What?” Kate said. “I should tell you so you can do something like this? Come on, I thought we were past you trying to fight my fights for me. What people say isn't worth the time it takes to shrug.”
Kell shook his head violently. “After what you've been through, people shouldn't say things like that. It's wrong.”
Kate laughed bitterly. “After what I've been through, do you think words compare at all? Do you think they have any power to hurt me?”
He had no answer to that.
“I need to think about this, K. I'm going to have you put in a secure room until I've come to a decision.” Jack ran a finger along his jaw absently. “You admit your fault, which is to the good. Will you also accept whatever punishment comes?”
“I will on two conditions,” Kell said. Kate tried to interrupt him, but he shook his head. “The first is that I go talk to the guard. You can put me in cuffs, have an escort if you want. I need to apologize. The second is yes, I'll submit to being punished, but you have to let the guy I attacked decide what it will be.”
Jack frowned. “He may be very angry, you know.”
“I know. I have it coming.”
The older man took a deep breath and shrugged. “Not how I usually do things, but so long as he doesn't go overboard with it, I'll
allow it. And somehow I don't think you'll need a guard. Kate will take you to him, then to your cell.”
In the end the apology had to wait; Brad, the man Kell attacked, was sedated when he reached the small medical center. Kate walked with him to his cell, which turned out to be the same room he'd left behind after moving in with the ladies.
Hurt and exhausted, the memory of his attack kept him awake all night. Over and over again it replayed behind his eyes. The anger was there, fresh and strong as ever, each time. Only now disgust was riding shotgun, with a healthy dose of self-loathing.
Kell was still awake at seven the next morning when a guard unlocked his door and led him to where Brad lay. The man's face was bruised black in some places, but there was precious little real estate that had escaped damage. His nose was clearly broken, as was his jaw. Kell's hands, damaged in the attack but ignored, throbbed at the sight.
Brad looked up at him through swollen eyes. There was no fear there; Kell suspected the pain medicine played a part.
“I won't bother you long,” Kell said. “I want to apologize. I know that's not enough. What you said...it was the kind of thing a lot of guys would say. It was tasteless and maybe even cruel. It hit me hard, because I saw what Laura and Kate went through. I should have yelled at you, or made you feel like shit.”
Kell waved a hand at Brad's face. “I shouldn't have done this. What you said was wrong, but what I did was a hundred times worse. I'm so sorry. I really am. I'll take whatever is coming.”
He turned and left the room, wondering if Jack had a chance to tell his victim the punishment was up to him. Kell realized he didn't care; the apology was genuine, but whether Brad thought it was didn't matter.
