Dead End Stories From the End of the World

by P. S. Power

  "Right. I'll..." He was going to say that he'd go and chat with her. Talk it out, and make certain that it wouldn't happen again. That wasn't going to work though. It hadn't yet, at least. What he needed, what they all needed, was for Jake to come and handle it for them.

  He'd just walk up to the woman, and tell her to knock it off... or else he'd shoot her. No one would even imagine it wasn't true, if he said it. Nate didn't have that kind of authority there, because no one believed he'd honestly do it. Because he wouldn't. He was a negotiator at heart. A lawyer. The kind of person that resolved problems with words. Not force. Not even the threat of it.

  Still, this wasn't the kind of thing to dump on a person that was already planning to leave. What could he do though? Nothing came to mind, even as he sighed.

  "Let me go and see about this." Moving past the slightly ripe smelling man in the doorway, Nate took the picture in again. His hair a bit lank and greasy. His blue shirt looking remarkably new, considering he'd never left the place to find anything for himself, not even going to the unsorted pile of goods in the barn. Someone else there had been looking out for him. Someone bold enough to risk death to help him out.

  Then, as Nate closed with them, the other people in the room he walked into, the inner voices hit him. Hard. It was so powerful a thing that he plastered a concerned look on his face, knowing that smiling was out for the moment. there was no way he could even fact that. A lot of the people there stared at him knowingly, having seen what Sandy had done. It resonated in their thoughts. They all wanted him to actually fix it too. Other than thoughts of death however, no one had any real ideas about how to do it.

  That was the kind of world they all lived in now. If you had a problem that wasn't easily solved with a few half hearted words, then it was time to kill. Or at least get someone else to do it for you.

  It was no way to live.

  Really, it was barely a way to survive.

  Not knowing what he was going to say, he walked up to Sandy, looking at her worn clothing and drab hair. She was thin, like they all were now, and had a muscle spasm under her right eye that made her seem more than a little deranged. The woman wasn't though. She was actually just scared, and had thought that Troy was finally going to hurt her for her antics. It was... Misguided, what she had been thinking.

  To her mind, she had to act tough, or people would take advantage of her. They'd rape her, and take her things. It had happened before, about six months back. Her goal was to not let that happen again. So when Troy had gotten mad at her, after she tried to bully him, her terror at being attacked surfaced and she'd knee him preemptively.

  Of course, it didn't help much that she didn't really think men hurt all that badly when nailed in the groin. Lacking a common experience, she assumed that they were all just big babies about it. Troy hadn't even done more than step back, and seem ready to kill her. Now she was afraid of that too.

  Not enough to stop her from planning to stab him later though. Again, she was afraid, but knew that she had to be strong.

  It was convoluted, and wrong, but unless he wanted to find Troy dead in the morning, something had to be done.

  "Everyone, listen up. We can't have violence here." It was a ridiculous statement, naturally. They lived seeping in it, after all. He held his head, his slightly callused palm rough against his temple on the left side. "So from now on, anyone that assaults another person living here, will have to leave. Now, I know that there are minor things like that, all the time. Low level ones that no one wants to be cast out for, but going into winter, things are going to be harder for us. It will be darker, more tense, and if we give into the temptation to act on anger or fear, people are going to start acting out. That isn't allowed. If you can't control yourself, then you aren't welcome here anymore." He was seconds away from telling Sandy to pack her things and go right then.

  It was a death sentence for her, which she understood. It showed on her face.

  After a moment of staring at her directly, he whispered. That was what people did now, instead of yelling, though he didn't use the harsh tones that most did. It was soft and kind.

  "Sandy, do you want to leave?" The meaning was clear enough at least to everyone that could hear him, even as he knew it undermined his own authority with the others. He needed to tell her to get out, not give her a second, or in this case eighteenth, chance.

  After a minute, with her just standing there, glaring, to cover the terror that bubbled up inside of her, feeling that he was taking her power away from her, she shook her head, not speaking. It was almost a shy thing, and didn't hold the aggression that she normally projected toward the world.

  "No, sir."

  "Good. If I hear about, or see, you pushing, hitting or slapping anyone here, ever again, that isn't trying to do the same to you first, then you're out. Is that understood? I don't care if it's day or night. Notice that everyone? If you're attacked, then fight. By all means. That's our world now. But if you caused the problem, make sure you pack up what you can reasonably carry and get the hell out. Spread the word on that. There will be no more chances given." He managed to sound hard, and not like he was about to amend it or take it back. That part was hard to pull off, since it wasn't really a fair rule. Just a needed one.

  People nodded, but didn't speak.

  The real trouble was that Troy wasn't happy with his response. To his way of thinking, it was clear, Nate had just basically given the women a pass on causing him pain. Even from fifteen feet away, the words hit his mind. It wasn't going to work, and there would be further problems. Sandy though, had seemed to give up her idea about stabbing Troy, for the time being.

  Now she just wondered if their leader had it out for her, personally. She wasn't, he picked up as she stared at the floor, a bad person or anything. She just didn't want everyone to think she was their little prison bitch. So she'd found the biggest man on the cell block, and beat him up, that was all. Except that she also knew that it hadn't really been like that. She was sane after all.

  Sandy had been preying on weak people for the most part. The smaller women and a few of the men, like Troy, who blustered a bit, but never just beat anyone down. She wouldn't have tried what she'd been doing with anyone on one of the cleaning teams, would she? Not with Ken again either. Tipper and Vickie would eat her for dinner, and even the younger people, like Molly, could probably take her out in a fight. They were all tough, after all. They left the house, went into town, and then sought out Zombies to fight with. It was so insane to her that she kind of feared them all.

  So she went after the ones too frightened by the world to leave. Like she was.

  Nate looked around.

  "Also, we all need to be better about washing. I know that it can be hard to go outside, but we need to do it. All of us." Him included, but he didn't say that, just going to see if he could find Burt.

  They had a real problem after all, and offering to toss Jake out was not going to fix it. They also couldn't just order any of the women to sleep with him, or even be friendly. Well, they could, and it was getting to be a bit tempting.

  There was nothing wrong with the guy after all. He was practically pretty for their group. Thin, yes, and a bit short, but clean, and well groomed, all the time. He even had a tan on his face, compared to the pale people that lived there for the most part. True, that didn't make him ready for GQ, but he was a lot better looking than Nate, or even Derrick, and that guy had managed to score with over half the women in the place. They'd all known about it too, which was odd. Really, Nate would have thought that Carl would have been the one they were doing that with.

  He was a muscular black man. So toned and vastly built that it was hard not to stare at him. They'd been in the bathhouse at the same time, so Nate knew that one first hand. Also the head of one of the cleaning teams. On hunting duty now, but both of those jobs kind of sold him as being a prime catch for their new world, didn't it? He got his share of attention, but if anyone had been getting all th
e women, he would have been the one that should have had the job. Not Derrick Holsom. The man had been tall enough, about six-four, but other than that, he was just average at best. It didn't make a lot of sense.

  Jake was another one though. Even back when the world was normal and not insane to the point of breaking, women really should have liked him. He was a bit dark and brooding, but that had never stopped a decent looking man from having a relationship, as far as Nate knew. He even had a sense of humor. Too few really did anymore.

  The older man, Burt, would be out in his workshop, this time of day. After being stabbed six times in the stomach, the man didn't seem to enjoy being inside the house that much. That just made sense. After all, while his thoughts were closed to Nate too, kind of like his partner, Lois, the man was smart. A genius. That meant he had to know that the person that had done it, stabbed him liked that as he lie sleeping hadn't been caught. Not for certain.

  Yes, Tammy had been killed, and Jake thought that she was probably behind it, but that didn't mean it was really true, did it? Of the fifteen people that had been part of the disastrous take over, she was the only one that had been caught trying to stab anyone. That being Jake, in the back. It was foolish, of course, and she died trying, having never even touched him. What she was thinking, Nate didn't know. Probably that she wanted to die, and didn't have the nerve to do it herself. That...

  It was a thing that he'd never told anyone, but it was perhaps the most common form of suicide they had. People, knowing that they couldn't take it anymore, would let their voices raise, knowing that they'd catch a bullet to the skull for it. Forcing Jake to do it, most of the time. They didn't even bother trying, when he wasn't around. That would be stupid, and just call the dead down on them.

  No one wanted to die that way. Not even the depressed and suicidal.

  It was a horrible thing to do to anyone, but they all knew that was what really happened, most of the time. It wasn't just people losing it, but part of a plan.

  It wasn't Burt that he found first, after making his way back through the kitchen. No, it was Vickie, one of the cleaning team heads. She was looking around, over the fields that were still mainly green, where they hadn't taken all of the plants for the harvest. The woods were off to the right a bit. Almost perfectly behind her. She had a bundle of clothes in her right hand, but was still checking the world to make sure nothing snuck up on her. Once she saw him coming, and noted it in a nearly military fashion, she changed that idea in her head. After that, she watched for both of them.

  After all, their leader was a civilian, and not one of her people.

  What that meant, he didn't know, and her mind didn't elaborate on the concept. It most likely had to do with him not being a cleaner. He could see that, but still tried to look around, making sure no Type B infected were coming at him. Being careful now was everyone's job, wasn't it?

  "Vickie?" He didn't know how to tell her what he knew. He couldn't just say that he'd read Jake's mind, and that the man was gearing up to leave again, could he?

  "Nate." Her eyes never rested.

  She also didn't rush back into the relative safety of the house. For all that she was watchful, there wasn't much fear from her, exposed or not. In a lot of ways she was one of the bravest people that he'd ever even heard of. Looking like she could have been on television, back when they had that kind of thing, and sounding just a tiny bit foreign at times, the woman was exactly wrong for what she should have been. That kind of girl, or woman, had been pampered and taken care of when the world was normal. Inside though, Vickie had loads of training. Most of it for combat. That just didn't really make sense, did it? Then, she never claimed that it wasn't the case. There was no pretending that she'd taught pre-school back in the day, or anything like that. She, like most of them, just never mentioned who they'd been before.

  "Um... Well. I think that Jake is going to leave."

  Rather than do the normal thing, and ask how the hell he knew that, she just nodded.

  "He does seem pretty down. So do a lot of people here. We've been failing on morale for a while now." She smiled at him, her lips curling at the edges. "You'd think that people would get it by now. We have so few luxuries that denying one person friendship and kindness..."

  It was his turn to simply agree.

  "Yeah. Sammi said that we need to get him laid." He didn't suggest that she be the one to do it. She was... Well, really, she didn't do that kind of thing. It wasn't about trauma, he didn't think, just personal preference. Most of the men there didn't meet her standards.

  Oddly enough, she nodded.

  "I know. I'll see if I can set something up. Really, it should be Tipper taking care of him that way, being his team leader. Even if she didn't want him for herself, she should be trying to find someone. She's certainly been trying to do her part to keep everyone else happy, hasn't she?" There was no real sense of derision about the sleeping around, just the rest of it. The part where she was clearly excluding one person, almost as if she were trying to set him off.

  Vickie couldn't understand why she'd do that however. It was counter to their training.

  Nate had to make himself not react to that. Their training. Because they were both in the same unit? Filing that away, he took a deep breath.

  "That's part of the issue, I think. Really, that would be good. What he really needs is someone to actually be there for him though. Sex is a start, but we need to find him someone for real. A girlfriend at least. Who do you have in mind?" He was drawing a blank, himself.

  So, it seemed, was the lady in front of him. At least at first.

  "I... Honestly, I think Carley would be my first choice. They're actually a lot closer than it seems. She's a bit of a bitch, but she did mention to me that he's one of the very few men here that she can stand. Since she likes them, at least in bed. That seems like a place to start. I'd kind of hoped for a while that the new girl, Heather would be the one. They'd seemed close, at first." There was an artless, and slightly tense, shrug then.

  Nate had more of that story, which was, of course, partly his fault.

  "She'd been sharing a bed with him, but not having sex, until I told everyone that the pregnant women had to have a partner or leave. Then she went and hooked up with Randy, trading sex for having him as a father to her child. It..." He normally wasn't that obvious about how he got his information, but swallowed, not able to keep it in any longer. "She's been raped, many times now. It hurts her to have sex, even with a nice guy, and she'd told Jake that she wasn't ready. It's agonizing for her each night, still, and Jake thinks that she just lied to him, saying he wasn't good enough. Her mind... It isn't exactly well balanced. She carries so many visions of what she thinks might happen all the time."

  There, that was enough to make him seem insane himself, wasn't it? Vickie looked away, her thoughts focusing for a bit on making certain nothing was about to attack them.

  When she spoke, her voice was soft.

  "That's horrible, all the way around then. The poor thing. Both of them, really. Well, I'll work something out. I'll check with Carley and Tipper, to see what they think about the idea. Maybe a few of the other women."

  Then, done with that part of things, she walked off, leaving him there alone. It wasn't a comfortable thing. He was armed though, he reminded himself. Not ready to fight the undead, but that didn't mean he could let himself be afraid of being in the back yard. Heading toward the barn, a large structure with storage in the front and a workshop in the back, Nate hurried his steps a bit, trying to seem upbeat ,and not like he was planning to do something violent. There was a ringing from the forge, which told him that Jake hadn't left yet.

  There was that much of a small favor, at least.

  They had time to turn things around. To save them all, with a few kind words and some attention that should have been a part of the other man's life already. Without anyone having to try and arrange anything. It was good of Vickie to be willing though. Really, he should have be
en doing the same thing, months back, when it first had reared its head as a problem. Honestly, Nate had just figured it as being a bit of a dry spell, that would break almost instantly. It seemed like more than that now...

  Well, they'd work it out, somehow. Which meant he probably didn't have to bother Burt with it either, which was good. The man constantly worked. Trying to hold things together all the time.

  Which was what he was doing, inside his little work area. It was chilly, but he had a coat on, and some fingerless gloves. On the bench in front of him, he was building something, which looked like nothing more than a barrel. Made all out of wood, with some metal bands on the top. Turning a bit stiffly, the older man smiled at him.

  "My first attempts at being a cooper. Jake made the rings for me, so that I could give it a shot. If I did it right, then it should be able to hold water, juice, or even age wine. If I did it wrong, then back to the drawing board. That's life though." He kept tapping around the top of the thing, until the metal band he was hitting stopped moving. There was one already in place on the bottom. There was even a wooden stop cock, to let the liquid inside out. It wasn't a vast thing, but would hold about twenty gallons or so, at a guess. When he was finished the man turned. "I take it there isn't an emergency? Or else you would have mentioned it by now. What's on your mind?"

  That was almost funny. He asked people the same thing, all the time, but really, he normally knew the answer first. It wasn't like that with Burt, who was silent inside, all the time. Why that was, Nate couldn't hazard a guess at. Maybe his brand of crazy didn't include older men? Not that he didn't like them. There had been a time, before Miguel, that most of his lovers had been older than he was. Not as old as Burt, of course, but a few had been close. You couldn't afford to be as picky as all that when only ten percent of all men were willing to do anything with you. It lead to a more open mind that way. He didn't share that though, since there were other things that worried him a lot more at the moment.