Dead End Stories From the End of the World

by P. S. Power

  Way, way longer.

  Zombie-cicles.

  Jake started at the outer edge, trying to make each shot count, hitting the brainstem as exactly as possible from the back, which meant getting close. Too close. He nearly got bitten, not just a few times either. Luckily his heavy cold weather clothing offered some protection, or he'd have gone down for sure. It didn't take long for him to run out of the ammo actually in his weapons. He needed to reload. That could be done, but not in a crowd of things that were finally getting that he was potentially yummy smelling.

  He ran off, toward the cows. It took a long time to catch them. They hadn't gone that far, but he needed to go around so he could scare them back the way they'd come. He stood, breathing hard and reloaded, then tried to get the whole thing going again. It was harder this time. Luckily they spooked just enough to start walking, and by running more than was comfortable, Jake got them going again, really panicking at just the right time for another rush.

  After two more times he was out of ammo totally having used all his spare clips. But very few of the zombies still stood. Maybe fifty of the three hundred or so that had been there originally. He held up his arms and waved to the upper windows. If they didn't move now, he was just leaving them. Really, he could come back the next day, and maybe get one more pass with the cows now, but that was about it. If they came out and fought now, it was about the best they could do.

  Jake set up for one last run and kicked the cows into action, falling down twice as he did it. No bullets, no boom, so he had to improvise. Finally one ran and others followed, slower now, tired from all the exercise. That was good, since Jake was too. It was hard to run in boots on snow. Especially the slick packed stuff at their feet. Cows tripped and stumbled, a few going down with broken legs already, from previous passes. It was horrible, but he couldn't do anything for them yet. Just as the last pass finished, the back door opened and people rushed from the House, shooting at the zombies that were bent over to snack on their buddies.

  Jake pointed close to the back of one's head, hoping they'd get the idea. It was freaking dangerous, but if they got close, it worked better. Dave nodded, using a rifle to do just that. It sounded like a war zone, but only for about half an hour. Then it got way quieter. Jake went and got his other beheading axe and started taking heads. It was tiring work, but needed to be done. They could clean up the mess themselves though, carting the bodies away.

  Not all of them were zombies. A few he recognized. It didn't hurt his feelings, since both of them were women that had falsely accused him of rape. Unfortunately they were new people, not Rita or that bitch Heather. Nate had come out too, and helped fight, which was surprising. He sucked at it, which didn't shock Jake at all. When the last of the heads was taken, Justine having set up a large flood light, burning some battery power for it, the older man walked over to Jake.

  “That was brilliant. How did you know we needed help?”

  “I didn't. I was bringing food over. It was just easier to carry this way. Anyway, if I could get some ammo? I'm out. I'll be out of your hair now.” It sounded tired rather than bitchy at least.

  He'd kind of meant it to be pissy though.

  Nate pretended he hadn't heard him, “I don't know what's going on Jake. We kind of argued after you left the other day and this showed up. I didn't think we were going to make it at all. Thanks. No one thinks...”

  The tapering off of words said as much, more possibly, than what was said did. No one thought the allegations were true, except, Jake got the other part. Telepath Nate knew for a fact that some of them did.

  Women didn't lie after all. Wasn't that the mantra?

  Jake had wondered about that one Back Before, even in high school. Had the people that said that never met any women? Sure, they weren't all lying all the time, but hell yeah, they lied. Everyone did, it seemed.

  He shrugged, Nate knew that the idea had carried, even if it wasn't the ideal situation.

  “Jake...” The voice was female.

  He spun to see who was going to lie about him now, knowing even as he thought about it that it was probably unfair.

  Until he saw that it was Heather.

  No, the thought worked this time.

  There was no ammo left in any of his weapons, but he had an axe in his hands. Jake swung at her hard, trying to chop her in two if he could. She jumped back, falling on her rear in the churned muddy snow, a look of fear on her face. No, it was confusion. The axe head had buried itself in the muck, but the ground was still soft from all the action, so it came up easily enough. Resetting, Jake tried for her again. There was a boom.

  And then a searing pain through his middle. Jake didn't clutch at it, even though it hurt horribly. His feet slid out from under him though, the ground too slippery for him to swing an axe while being shot. It was Randy that stood, holding a handgun, looking at it in amazement.

  Slowly, Jake climbed back to his feet. How unfair was that? He saved their lives, again, only to be shot, because he'd wasted all his ammo helping them. There was also that whole Heather killing bit, sure, but still... Jake smiled. That wasn't done yet after all. He threw the axe at Randy.

  If it had been a movie, the blade would have stuck in the man's redheaded skull, killing him instantly. What Jake got was a half miss that clubbed the guy on the shoulder with a hard thunk, making him drop the gun. It was a scramble to get to it, a slow and pain filled one. Jake won though, and pointed the thing at the pregnant witch that sat on the ground looking up in shock.

  “Jake?” She said, softly.

  “Fuck you.” He pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened. It was out of bullets. Well, that was messed up. He limped to the axe, and picked it up, then hit Randy in the head with the handle, which made a satisfying thunk. It was way faster than trying to use the working end, which took everyone by surprise, including Jake. Then he turned to finish his work, wondering if Rita would come over if called? He asked Nate to do that while he finished up.

  “Stop.” This came from Sammi, her mind control thing.

  Jake shook his head, “No. I'm ending this now. Back away.”

  He tried to swing properly at the girl as she scooted in the muck, blood and snow. The world was going darker on him now, as he died. It was kind of messed up. Still, he had time to take her with him, right?

  “Jake? Why are you trying to hurt me?” She said, as if it wasn't completely obvious.

  “Why? Why?” What the fuck? How could she even ask that?

  Jake turned the axe over and finally managed to hit her with it a few times, before sinking to his knees. They weren't very good blows, but would have to do. There just wasn't anything else left.

  “You deserve to die, bitch. You're evil...”

  Then he passed into the darkness. It was nice.

  Until he woke up.

  “What,” Jake said, getting Sammi to lean over him, a firm mattress under his back. “The heck is this? I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be dead.”

  His tone got a wince. It sounded dismal, upset and dark. He'd died and shouldn't have to deal with this crap anymore. That seemed pretty fair really.

  “No, not dead. Just shot. We treated your wound and staunched the blood flow. You won't get an infection, so you'll live. We just can't move you for a while. You're in the quarantine room right now. People are worried that you might be, a bit unstable for a bit.”

  “Oh?” He didn't chuckle, since his stomach was killing him. “Well, if those people are who I think they are, they can go fuck themselves. I'm out of here.”

  Jake rolled to his side, which hurt, his stomach which burned, and then slowly stood up, gasping. It felt like something tore in his middle. No big thing. He still had his weapons, they hadn't been removed. Empty though. It would make the walk home interesting. He limped out slowly, Sam not talking to him at all. Surely she'd been alive long enough to get the general idea. He wasn't happy and staying here wasn't happening. Even if it was the reasonable and sane
course of action.

  Nate caught him at the back door and people gathered around, as if to stop him. He glared at them, or tried to.

  “I'd rather fucking die in the snow than stay here with you monsters.” He said, his voice low. It sounded menacing, which was good, because he didn't have anything else.

  It was that and limping.

  “I need ammo to replace what I used. If I can't get that, then... I'll just be going.”

  Because, he thought, he wasn't staying there. Sure, he'd tried to kill Heather, and could even forgive Randy saving her. Kind of his job after all. That didn't mean he trusted them though.

  “Why... didn't you kill her already? And Rita? You know for a fact they're lying, Nate. You know this is going to end in death. It's what they want. It has to be their plan. Rita's at least. Heather may be too far gone to have something as complex as that, but she should be put down for the good of the group.”

  The stairs were hard, and hurt like hell with each step down, the night was colder now, a lot and the ground had frozen again. People had started speaking at him, in hushed tones, but he just walked away, not listening.

  He fell down halfway to the windmill, the one that pumped water, he thought, not the newer one. When he tried to get up he couldn't. His hands just sliding out from under him. People tried to help him up, or that's what he thought, but they didn't do that, they picked him up, trying to take him back inside.

  “Set. Me. Down.” He growled, several times before anyone heard him. “Now.”

  They did and he turned and stumbled off into the night. If anyone followed him he didn't see them. It was cold and he knew that he wasn't moving fast. It was just a fact that he was probably going to die out there. Then again, he didn't care anymore.

  What little he'd had that was worth anything had been taken away, and he'd been beaten.

  Oh well.

  Hours later, maybe close to morning even, Jake got inside his house. How that had happened he wasn't totally certain. It didn't matter. He got the fire going again, just opening it up, placing some more wood on the nearly spent coals and hoping it would catch. For once it actually did. He fell onto the bed and didn't move for a long time.

  It was daylight when he tried to do anything at all. That was just to get some water and go to the bathroom. Then he slept more, woke up to tend the fire and fell asleep sitting at the table eating something. Yeah, it didn't make sense, but he made himself keep going. It took days, but finally he started to heal enough to be able to think, care for the wound and eat something that he actually seasoned. He didn't bath, or shave, or brush his teeth. Those things just freaking hurt too much to consider.

  Way too much.

  Two days after he managed to finally get out to the water heater and get it going, and load in new wood for the fire, he had a visitor. At first he didn't recognize the man. It took a long time in fact, as Jake stood there at the door staring. Dark hair, black as coal. Strange Asian looking eyes. Light skin. Like Sammi. Then it clicked into place. They'd met.

  “Robert?” Jake didn't move. If the guy had come to kill him, he'd sure picked a good time.

  “Hi Jake, would it be all right if I come in, it's a bit chilly out here.” He rubbed his hands together as if to illustrate that fact.

  Jake got it though, it really was incredibly cold out. He hadn't bothered to shave for days, so probably looked seedy as all hell, but Robert looked sharp. Lean and hard, but not half starved. Bigger than Jake but not some giant. His clothing was clean even. Mainly. A little dirt showed at the edges, but nothing too bad, considering the state of the world. Jake looked worse and he had nearly new clothing on.

  Then it was still a painful ordeal for him to wipe his own behind, so it was probably pretty even, all things considered.

  “I have water, or a nice warm beef broth. Plenty of both.”

  “Some broth sounds lovely, thank you.”

  Jake gestured to the table and carefully poured the pan of meat broth into two mugs. It was mainly what he'd been eating, just jerky in water with a few dried herbs. No garlic, in case that was a racial thing. It might be, since Sammi said it tasted like rotten eggs to her, because she could smell the sulfur in it.

  The man took a sip and nodded at the cup, “not bad. So, I was talking to Samantha earlier, and she mentioned that there was a small problem? Oh, I come bearing gifts. Ammunition and some food. Staples and whatnot. It should just about get you all through the winter. Especially with all that you've already done.”

  He sipped again at the cup and didn't speak for a long time. Jake just sat, not knowing why he'd come. It was unusual to say the very least.

  “Anyway, there are people at the House that would like to meet you. They've come a very long way for it in fact. Would it be all right do you think? They'll go away if we tell them to, but... this may be important.”

  “I don't suppose they'd want to come here? I can make more broth.” Jake gave a small smile. “Really, after being accused of rape and child abuse by those liars, I'd really rather avoid the House, you know?”

  The man gave him a blank look.

  “Is that what happened? Samantha just said there was an event and that things were strained. That would do it though. I recommend not letting them get the better of you. This isn't ten years ago. Accusations are a very local thing here. No national news service to drag you down wherever you go. One of the very few benefits of all this. To answer though, it would be best if we went to them. These people... Well, to say important would be underselling it. More to the point, some of them are very old and a three mile walk through the cold would be hard for them.”

  “Ah. OK. Let me get ready. Half an hour?” Jake didn't want to go at all, but he could at least not let his place burn down or something stupid like that.

  The walk was painful, made worse because Robert didn't seem to get that his going slow was more than just nerves. Jake struggled to keep up while the man cast wry expressions at him. The guy looked about his own age, twenty-four, maybe a little younger even. How old that was in Bawdri years he just didn't know at all.

  He didn't ask. It was older than Sammi though.

  The walk took about an hour and fifteen minutes, at a raw guess, made slower thanks to the snow. When they got to the House Robert just walked up the back steps as if he belonged there and went in. The steps hurt to climb, more than just walking had by a nice piece, but when Jake slowed down the man just shook his head.

  “Come along, don't let them see you as being weak now.”

  It was a point, Jake fought to keep his face blank and managed to get into the kitchen without help. Inside Lois saw him and went wide eyed. Ken did too. The girls that were bustling around moved away from him though. Cam's friends. Her bitchy, misguided friends. They actually acted like he was going to do something to them right then and there. It was brilliant thinking, but fear wasn't a reasonable emotion at the best of times.

  “Hi.” Jake said to everyone softly, using the need for noise control to hide the pain and breathlessness he still felt.

  No one said anything though and Robert pushed ahead into the next room without so much as slowing down. That meant following quickly or looking like a jerk.

  Jake stepped in, freeing his side arm by opening the heavy coat he wore. If it was a fight, he needed to be ready.

  It wasn't. Some chairs had been put in a row, toward the back of the room, nice comfy ones he just didn't recognize. Five of them. All a really pretty leather, brown and rich looking. The people in the chairs didn't all look old, but two of them clearly looked ancient. One a woman with no hair, wearing a circlet on her head with an opal in the front, Jake thought. He wouldn't have even gotten that much except for all the sci-fi he used to watch.

  They were all dressed in nice clothing, but it was fine business, not visiting royal, in appearance. At least none of the other really important people that had visited him had dressed this casually. It was a little insulting. Jake had to fight a grin at the
thought. The man on the far end, the other really old one looked at him and just laughed.

  “Well, you know, end of the world and all that, had to make do.” He waved at his suit, which had probably cost a lot, Back Before. When money actually had value.

  Telepath then? The man nodded.

  “OK. I'll let it go this time then. Oh, heck, let's just go casual from now on. It will save on resources.” Jake looked down at what he was wearing, heavy shirts, multiple eclectic layers, long johns under blue jeans and a pair of stolen police issue boots. Heavy blue coat on top. One with blood stains all over it.

  “See, I've already started.”

  The man in the middle, who looked like Robert and Sammi, at least racially, though he had gray hair and a few wrinkles, looking late forties or early fifties maybe, stood. He was decently tall and had a wiry looking frame.

  “Thank you for coming. It is a rare thing to meet one such as you, I hope our intrusion isn't an inconvenience?”

  Jake smiled and didn't shrug. It hurt too much to do that.

  “Not for me. What can I do for you? I don't mean to be abrupt, but...” He really wanted to get the hell out of there. That was what.

  “Oh, we've come to test you. It won't take but a few moments, if you're willing? I thought that someone would have discussed this with you by now... Samantha? I believe that would have been your responsibility?”

  The girl walked from the side of the room and raised her eyebrows at the man, looking less shocked and more ticked off, maybe stern.

  “Yes. It didn't seem relevant. I didn't claim that Jake was The Very Good Man. I simply said I believe such to be the case. That didn't seem to warrant testing like this. It either is, or is not, the case, the rest will take care of itself.”