Dead End Stories From the End of the World

by P. S. Power

  He stared at her, as he took the last bite of food from his dish, the scrapped off bit from the sides. No one left anything anymore. Not even the ones grumbling about not having meat this morning. After a minute of this, his old team leader looked away from him, eyes to the front.

  “What?” It sounded a bit flat, as if she was responding to him being angry rather than just curious.

  “The Very Good Man thing… No one has really mentioned what the heck that’s about. Some kind of set-up for something you think? A trick? I can’t see it being relevant enough to bother coming all the way here just to see me, and that’s kind of what those others made it sound like. That coming here at all mainly had to do with me, nothing else. Not just an excuse to go to a party, or anything sensible like that.”

  She blinked, a confused thing, and looked at him so fast her head seemed to almost not move at all. Now it was her turn to stare, but it just looked baffled, maybe amazed. Probably at his ignorance. What could he do though? It wasn’t a subject covered in school. Not his at any rate.

  “Oh.” Her voice was smaller than usual. A whisper so soft that Jake almost didn’t hear her, even with his ear less than three feet from her mouth.

  “That. It’s not a secret, I guess, though some of the people involved might be trying to keep you in the dark, so that they can get more influence over you. There’s a legend. A prophecy really, one from a source that no one doubts at this stage of things. Really there are about twenty of them, all talking about nearly the same thing. It’s a complex idea, but it comes down to the idea that at the end of the world, The Very Good Man will come and bring everyone together. If he deems us worthy. If not, everyone dies. Humanity, all the cousin races, the whole deal. No one knows much more about it than that, not really. We all have different versions of the idea, how it will happen, what’s expected, depending on our races. The… Cam’s people? The Teleporters? They believe that the 'Ba-Dehist' will come and lead them to a place of safety. The Bawdri think that they’ll be put in charge of everyone for the final time, so that they can organize and fix the world. Us Valkyries just kind of figured that The Very Good Man will pass judgment and then we’d live or die. Just be all happy and good, or fall down and rot.” She leaned into him, as if they were close or something, even though she’d made it clear that they really weren’t.

  Of course she was trying to make that up now, right? Not letting her would be cruel. Still, it shouldn’t matter if he was just an average guy or some special legend, should it? Especially one as lame sounding as that. Even the Easter Bunny had a cooler gig going on. Almost everyone liked candy right? Colored eggs. Those cool ears…

  “So… Yeah, I don’t see it, I guess. What’s the big deal? I’m not declaring the world over, and I’m not putting the Bawdri in charge. I like Sammi, but the rest of them are kind of hard to get along with at times. I don’t think that would work well at all. As for the Teleporters safe place… I can’t lead them to someplace I don’t know exists. I really think they have the wrong guy, Tip. I’m nothing like what they keep talking about expecting.”

  A warm body moved in beside him on the right, Vickie. His girlfriend, even if they hadn’t done more than kissed a few times and cuddled a bit. She was also Tipper’s sister. Her much hotter, younger sister. Blonder too. She leaned in to whisper to them both.

  “I think that’s kind of why you really have to be the one, don’t you? Everyone expects Very Good Men to be loving and kind all the time, and really, now that I know to look for it, I can see that it’s there in everything you do. You only do good things for the most part, or hard things with a very good reason. But… only a few VGM have ever taken up weapons and most of those flipped inside a few weeks. Mentally lost it as soon as the danger passed. Killing just isn’t in their nature. That you keep doing it, well, that’s clearly special. Besides the Grand Comtrice confirmed it and everything. They don’t lie about things like that, it’s part of how their power to read people works, they can’t lie about it, not even to themselves.”

  She put an arm around her shoulder, getting glares from about half the women in the room still. Even though she was the one touching him, not the other way around. He just looked back at them all, not knowing what to do about it. Tipper sighed, but didn’t say anything at least. There was nothing left to say, not really.

  Vickie kissed his cheek, oblivious to the looks she was getting and fixed him with a small smile.

  “Now, what’s this about dragging a tree inside? A whole one? That sounds like a fire hazard. Did I mishear that? Or, maybe it’s a joke?”

  Next to him on the other side, Tipper shook her head.

  “Acculturate, will you? You lived in the U.S. for nearly three years and you didn’t pick up on that one? It’s an annual thing, for one of the main religions. They sacrifice an evergreen tree, and bring it inside to decorate it with bright bits of things. It’s largely a decoration, but an iconic one. Enough so that it might not be considered a proper holiday without it. I should have thought of it myself.”

  The hot blonde next to him leaned her head against his shoulder, as if she was tired. Maybe she was, but Jake knew for a fact that she didn’t need half the sleep he did. No more than two hours a night. He was good for six to nine without hardly trying. It depended on how bad the nightmares were, of course. He always wanted more sleep on the really bad days. She murmured at him then, so only he could hear.

  “You don’t have to go. No one would blame you for just resting.”

  Except that he would, of course. Blame himself for being lazy. As it was he should be up and getting ready, not sitting and chatting about ancient prophecies. Or trees. No matter how iconic. That was the plan for the day though, so he needed to get to it. He shrugged Vickie into sitting up, getting her to look happy enough, and got to his own feet as smoothly as possible. He ached, but then he always did after a fight, and there was no getting around it.

  At least this time he hadn’t gotten hurt too badly.

  It was kind of a happy thing, right? Jake made himself smile and gave the good looking blonde a hand up that she didn’t need, then held his hand out to Tipper, which she took, barely using it to help shift her weight as she stood, but he pulled her to him at the end of the movement, unbalancing her, his mouth ending almost on her ear.

  “Good times.” He whispered.

  It was a Val thing, a code to tell people to act happy, triumphant or whatever positive thing would work best. She didn’t hesitate at all, just hugging him back.

  “Merry Christmas everyone! Let’s go and capture us a sacrificial tree!” It sounded insane, but other people’s eyes lit up anyway.

  She spun and hugged Vickie, whispering the same code to her just loud enough for Jake to hear. Then they both went around pretending to be happy, handing out hugs and smiles as if it were planned. After about three minutes of it Dave waved everyone to attention. No one yelled anymore, or even spoke loud, if they could help it.

  “So four teams? I’ll lead the first one, main guard detail. Colleen? Who do you want for your crew?”

  That got a shocked look from the blonde woman, but before she could speak Rita, a small, birdlike and high strung looking woman raised her hand.

  “I can help pick the tree.” She said it like she wouldn’t be welcome.

  She was right, as far as Jake was concerned, but it wasn’t his call, it was Colleen’s. If she remembered the fact that this was the person that had first falsely accused him of rape, she didn’t let it show. She just nodded. The next hand to go up then was Heather’s.

  Again not his call, but again, someone he didn’t really want to spend a lot of time with. If Holsom had been half his problems in the last months, she was half of the rest. Maybe more than that. She could see the future, which she took as a reason to sabotage anything that might be good in his life, ever. She’d promised that she’d stop doing that now, as long as he just did what she needed him to, but so far Jake wasn’t sure she meant it.

&nb
sp; She was pregnant, hormonal and possibly a little off her rocker.

  In the end, the six person tree picking squad had four people he’d have rather not dealt with at all. The main guard team was slightly friendlier, and so was the actual cutting squad, which was Samuel. It was just one little tree after all. They had to stop Carley from setting up a full wood gathering team for the whole thing. It took a few minutes to explain the idea to her.

  “So all of this is for a shrub? I thought we were getting,” her hands waved around, trying to paint the picture of something vast in the air. “A real tree. I guess, if it’s the tradition though…”

  She made herself smile too, as if not really getting the idea at all. Then, she was a Killgrade, which was a small, but insular society of man hating super assassins. They didn’t exactly take time to learn a lot about the traditions of male centric religions like Christianity, did they? At least she didn’t seem to have a clue about the whole thing. Jake smiled, which got a bigger one back.

  It was too bad she didn’t really like him at all. She was even better looking than Vickie. Even with all the new women, she was easily the best looking one. A curly haired head cheerleader right out of a movie. One that could kill you with a single touch. Jake wasn’t even really sure if that contact was required. He kind of thought she could kill them all with a stew of super toxins, bacteria and viruses, and a sneeze, if she wanted. Or even turn them all into zombies.

  On the good side, she didn’t seem to want to.

  That just made good sense. She might be a natural born assassin, literally holding death within her at all times, but, as she told them all, she’d never actually killed anyone. The only person she’d ever even come close to really doing that too was him. Thinking about it Jake suddenly didn’t feel quite as secure. He walked out with her anyway, since she decided to play the part of big bad zombie hunter for the day. She upgraded to a rifle, from her normal twenty-five pistol. That was still on her side, but it wasn’t all she was taking. Jake did the same and so did Len, the slow guy.

  He might not have been the sharpest one there mentally, but he was cool under pressure and didn’t hesitate when it came time to fight. Really, he was decent at organization too. A little slower than most, but if he had the time, the quality of his plans didn’t suffer that much. It was a little odd, but it worked, helping to keep him and his girlfriend alive until they’d found the House a few months back. Alone. Just the two of them out in the word.

  That had to be tough.

  After a while they went off into the woods, Carley leading, because she knew where the good evergreens were. She thought so anyway. She was also immune to zombie bites. They’d hurt, but just like someone taking a chunk out of you would. She didn’t turn afterword though. Didn’t even get sick from it. It was a racial thing.

  The Bawdri, like Sammi, had the same kind of thing going on. No one else did though, as far as had been mentioned to him.

  The first zombie decided to come along with friends, six of them, smelling the warmth of their flesh in the snowy landscape, Jake guessed. They hadn’t been speaking at all, so it was likely something along those lines. They moved quickly, the walking corpses, even though right now they were actually frozen solid. It didn’t slow them down at all, however that worked. A little unfair, because being frozen actually made them about twice as hard to put down. It took multiple shots to the head to get it done, compared to the one it used to take, and hopefully would again when spring came.

  It was a pain in the behind right now though.

  Jake used the rifle to take out the first four, trying to hit the left eye exactly, since he wanted to save on bullets. He got three with one shot each, which was happy making. The next one didn’t go down from the shot though. Or the one after that, even though they both hit in the same place. Several other people took a shot too, as it just kept coming at them. It wasn’t fast, thank goodness, no more than a persistent quick walk, but it was getting to them, doing no more than rocking each time it got hit.

  That was new. The others were down already. It had taken a few bullets, in some cases up to six, to really do it, not everyone being as good of a shot, but whatever the deal was with this one, it simply wasn’t going down. He aimed for the left eye again. The shot wasn’t perfect, but managed to knock it down, as if it had slipped in the snow. That was hard to do, since it was a nice dry powder with a crust on top at the moment, but it did seem to be having trouble standing back up. Slipping several times, even though it shouldn’t have been.

  As if it was luring them in. It looked… funny. Like a bird faking an injured wing to draw predators away from its nest.

  “Stop. Now.” Jake didn’t get why, but it was clear that this situation wasn’t normal. Dave was ready to run in and end it, Cleaner style, a close range shotgun blast to the back of the head, but Jake waved at him.

  “No, it’s… I think it’s trying to fool us into moving closer… I know that sounds crazy, but… look at it. It’s not even trying to crawl toward my voice, it’s just hanging out there, flailing a little in snow that it can clearly get back up in.” Jake pointed the rifle again as it stood and made a sudden run at him. It was a fluid movement for a dead person. Fast and coordinated.

  “Target the head.”

  They all fired for nearly twenty seconds, until finally the thing dropped. Jake stood back and reloaded, then blew the head clean off, using about fifteen well placed shots to the neck. It shouldn’t have taken that much, not after all the punishment they’d delivered, but it still did.

  Wonderful.

  Jake just hoped this was a one up. Maybe some kind of super soldier that had gotten bitten? Then, were there any slightly overweight forty year olds that fit that description? Maybe it had been something else, or maybe this was what would happen to all the zombies if they got to be around long enough in the right conditions. It had clearly come for them though, so even if it had become smarter again, it wasn’t friendly. Maybe this was what the occasional smart zombie did when it got old enough and frozen?

  He didn’t know. They had a mission though, so he waved for them all to keep going. None of the other dead were any tougher than normal, so Jake figured it as at least something rare for now. He’d have to make up a plan for it though, just in case. If those things had come the night before, instead of there just being one, in the daylight, they’d all be dead. Or at least would have had to scatter to try and survive.

  The idea was chilling. To be more honest, it terrified him so much that he wanted to turn back and hide, instead of getting a stupid tree. What if there were more?

  But if there were, he’d fight, and do his best. If there weren’t, hiding from an imaginary foe could get them all killed. It was a risk either way, and right now he really thought the kids deserved a tree. It wasn’t that much to ask for, just taking the first tree they could find, right? It wouldn’t matter what they grabbed, would it? He didn’t think so. Colleen and her crew did. Even scared, they turned their noses up at the first half dozen trees they found, and finally, with a lot of silent nodding and pointing got Samuel to start in on the top eight feet of a small spruce tree. He used the saw and had the work done in about five minutes, then they dragged the thing back home, smelling of pitch the whole way.

  It wasn’t unpleasant, but did make Jake wonder when he’d learned to call that kind of tree a spruce. It was nice enough, though the color was a tiny bit off. A bit blue rather than green. It probably wouldn’t show too much inside the House though. It was always a little dark in there. They had some electric lights, hooked up to a battery pack, one that the wind generator charged. Those were for company though, or important night work. Normally they just used a candle or two for the whole place at night, trying to conserve the things, since they hadn’t figured out how to make more yet.

  They could use beef tallow for that, but Jake wasn’t exactly certain what part of the cow that was. Maybe the fat? They’d want to find out soon though or they were going to start ru
nning out of things. That could be bad. It wasn’t that they couldn’t survive at night without light, they could, and had, early on.

  No, it was that, if they ran out of anything regularly used, people’s spirits would flag fast. The whole thing was about five good depressive episodes from collapsing at best, and if it were the wrong person, one or two big depressions at once might send the whole group toppling over. For instance if Nate, Burt or Lois went, or Sammi even, the rest would probably follow pretty quickly.

  At least it didn’t matter what Jake did it. He’d been walking around depressed for months, and no one had hardly even realized it.

  Really though, it had been years, hadn’t it? Ever since Rachel had left. Not that they’d been together, but she just kind of decided one day to walk away from everything they had planned. For some guy. Some other guy, after he’d finally worked up the nerve to tell her he loved her. He’d never known who it was and really didn’t care anymore. It wouldn’t help. She was dead and there was nothing left of her but a frozen, buried, and still moving, super-zombie corpse.

  He’d had to shoot her.

  Shaking himself Jake tried to force himself out of it. This was seriously not the time for getting even more down, was it? Instead he shot the three zombies coming toward them, hesitating between shots just long enough to aim each time. It took five shots in all, because he was a little distracted by his thoughts.

  His wasted, annoying thoughts.

  Rachel had loved Christmas. For five years they’d spent them together, going back and forth between houses and parties, playing music for people and dressing in bright little elf outfits. He’d looked ridiculous, but she always been so cute he didn’t have the heart to tell her no. It had been a strange relationship, but they’d been friends. At least he’d thought they were, even if she hadn’t liked him as anything more. In the end they weren’t friends at all, were they?