Dead End Stories From the End of the World

by P. S. Power

  Sexy, without trying to be.

  "Not that they won't ignore that, and try to hide away regardless. We have people like that at The House too. Most of them are really. You folks here can't afford to carry a lot of dead weight though. I'll try to help, but..." Then he looked a little sad, as if he really figured that they'd all just end up dead.

  Most of the world was, so why not them?

  Then, they were still alive, and were all survivors, if not in the way that Mickey seemed to think they should be.

  "Yeah. We'll do it. We have to. It should be nearly dinner time. We should go in." She hesitated then. Not afraid, but realizing that he might want to do something else, now that the work was done. "Or, we could stay here? It's private enough, if we close the doors."

  It was getting darker now. Not so much she couldn't see him standing there, even as he moved toward her. She waited to be grabbed, and if he felt like it, kissed. If not...

  There wasn't even a pat on the back. No gentle rubbing up against her, or a friendly hug. He used to give really good hugs, she recalled. Almost every time they'd met. That was just how he was with almost everyone that wanted one.

  How he had been. Now...

  "We should have the work done here for now. Unless there's something you want to talk about? We don't really know what all happened here. It sounded pretty bad. I can't make it go away, but I can listen, if you want?"

  "There's not that much to say. We've all done a lot of things that we didn't think we ever could, just to be here now, haven't we Mickey? Your friend David, he mentioned that you... That you have to shoot people if they get too loud?"

  There was a nod, which was all that could be made out in the dying light, until he waved for her to follow him.

  "That's right. All of you here are so loud, too. Once we're outside we can't have that. Even too much chatting in a low tone can bring the undead down on us. It isn't a joke. I... No one is going to believe me until after I kill a few of them. The others didn't either. The military does the same thing, too." He was both sad and a bit defensive then, but, as they'd been talking about, he whispered the words to her.

  "Ah." How was she supposed to deal with that news? "I'll talk to everyone and make sure they get the idea. We don't want that to happen. Is it really that bad out there? I mean, we've heard the radio reports, but... Even here?"

  That didn't get a response, not at first, instead he walked out, and started to go to one of the doors to close it. She jogged over and got the other one, since it was a good idea. Doors were meant to be closed. That kept you safe, as long as the monsters weren't already inside with you.

  Thinking that he wasn't going to answer she walked with him, pointing toward the big building that had the main kitchen and all the tables for eating. Without speaking they went that way, her words kept in, because she really didn't think that anything she said would matter at the moment.

  It wasn't until they got into the well lit interior of the space, which was a bit noisy, that she saw him wince. They weren't being loud really, but it was a sign of something. His right hand twitched and moved toward the gun on his hip. It had a scratched black handle, and seemed to have been well used. Rather than rest his hand on it, like a lot of the police used to in order to intimidate the women into buckling under without question, he made a fist, and then relaxed it before taking another step.

  "It smells good in here. Like bread. Cheese too. I haven't had any of that in five months." The words were barely audible, as if trying to make up for the noise from the rest of them.

  There was a visible twitching of his nostrils, and she could see just the hint of a five o'clock shadow. It was dark, brown, like his hair. Then he glanced around the space, not knowing where to go.

  She took his hand, gently, and led him toward the front, where the silver catering trays of food were laid out. It was a bit plain, being only Mac and Cheese, the boxed kind. There was bread, and carrots to go with it. It had been what was scheduled, and no one had thought to do anything nicer in order to impress the guests. That was probably for the best, because they all seemed to think they were half useless, or more, already.

  Even though it felt wrong, going that early, before anyone else really had, she took two plates, and made a point of dishing his up first. Men ate first. It was a rule. No one looked at him, to see how much he took, or even glanced their way. Colleen knew they had to ration though, so only gave him one scoop of everything. It looked like a tiny bit to her, but he seemed pleased enough with it, even when she took the same for herself. They each got a single piece of bread, and some butter. It was canned, but that was all they had.

  Then, as if counting the tables, Mickey walked to the far wall, and sat on the floor, which got covert stares from everyone there. Then, as if making a point that things were truly different now, Dave and the older man, Barry, both did the same thing. They didn't take more than a single portion either. That got some attention. Everyone else went then, in the old order of things.

  The people in charge, the favorites, the family members of the police that had been alive the day before, they all went to get theirs. None of them cheated though, glancing at what the new people had done. That was almost unheard of. Things were carefully measured, but most nights, by the end of the meal, the youngest kids had to practically lick the silver dishes clean to get any food at all. This night, they all got some.

  Oh, it was gone at the end, but when little Darla went up to the table with her plate, it looked nearly identical to everyone else. Not brimming with things to eat, but a lot more than she normally would have gotten. Then, instead of sitting over in her normal corner, she moved in on the far side of Mickey, sitting a bit awkwardly.

  Like she wasn't afraid of him.

  "Can I go hunting tomorrow? I don't really know how, but that boy told me that it wouldn't matter if I'm little, as long as I don't scream. I won't. I promise."

  It was ridiculous, of course. She was one of the youngest kids there, practically. They had about six that were really little, one of whom had been born only weeks before they'd been forced to go into hiding. Glancing at Mickey, she grinned, wondering what he'd do to distract her. Make some kind of joke, or do magic tricks, maybe? He was horrible at sleight of hand, but it was always so funny to watch him try that people always paid attention. It was almost like watching a clown. If they weren't terrifying, of course.

  There was a moment of silence then, before he regarded the tiny and very pale girl.

  "What's your name?"

  "Darla. You're Jake, right?"

  "Yep. Okay. You can go. That means you have to be really quiet and not let yourself freeze up, even if you get scared. If you can stay silent, you should be able to outrun most of the Zombies we might come across. If not, they'll kill you, but that's just the world now."

  That got a nod, and the girl started eating, as if it were really decided.

  "Um, Mickey? She's kind of young for that, isn't she?"

  That got her stared at. For a second she thought he was angry with her, for back talking him like that, but he just blinked, and searched her face for a moment.

  "Yeah." This came out low and a bit slow. Then he took a bite, not speaking for a long time. "But if she goes, at least some of the adults here will have to step up. Guilt can overcome fear, at times. Not that they shouldn't be scared. I always am, now." There was no downcast look, just another bite of Mac and Cheese. When he finished chewing it, his eyes closed a bit, he sighed. "This is so good. Junk food, of course. I think I actually miss the fat in it, most of all. We're getting some now, and will have more of that, if we can kill enough animals. A lot of food, too. We all tend to ration a bit more than this, at The House. We had so little for so long that it's pretty much just habit now. There will be enough though. Somehow. We'll make it happen."

  That didn't really get heard by anyone except for Darla and her, it seemed. Becky looked over at them, as well as a few of the younger girls. No one paid too much attentio
n, since Mickey and his people were practically their captors, but she really didn't think that was what they were thinking the situation was.

  Even with the tiny girl being right there, and her old schoolgirl crush clearly not getting who she was at all, she offered herself again.

  "Um. Where are you sleeping tonight? You can use my bed. It's a bit small, but we can share?" There, that was about as blatant an offer as she could make in front of a seven year old and not feel bad about it.

  "We'll probably just camp out. It... I don't want to insult anyone, but none of us will be able to sleep that well here. Not yet. It's all the new faces."

  Which made sense, but also meant that she'd been right. He just didn't know her any more, did he? That left her feeling sad. What had happened to him that he couldn't see her? She nearly just shook his arm and told him her name, but he hadn't even asked yet.

  Darla, yes, but not her? That was strange.

  He finished eating, without saying much more, then went and whispered at Becky, standing very close to her, backing up a bit when she tensed, so that he wouldn't be looming. Whatever he told her got a scowl, but she relaxed. She'd probably thought it was going to be bad then, but of course it simply couldn't be.

  Darla ate slowly too, and looked up at her, smiling. It was strange for the girl to do. For any of them really.

  "He's a very good man." There was a click on the hard white plate, as she ate some carrots. "That's why he didn't take you up on your offer. Even that kind is still human though, so don't stop making them. That one really isn't like the men that were here before."

  The words were too insightful and wise for a little girl, but even she probably wasn't one of those anymore. If any of the men had wanted to try a child, she almost certainly had to be the one they went for. She was young, cute, and while thin, not as raw boned as some of the others, leaving her cheeks just a little bit rounded. If so, that hadn't broken her at all.

  Colleen prayed that it just hadn't happened, but didn't ask. There was nothing she could do about it now, except tell her that it wasn't her fault.

  Still, she had Mickey pegged right off, didn't she?

  "He's an old friend of mine. I don't think he realizes that yet."

  "Then remind him? Or just go on and be his friend now. Being like him is a very rare thing, and I bet this..." There was a gesture, with her empty fork, taking in the whole world. "Must be a thousand times worse for someone like him than it is for you or I."

  The girl's little face was still then. Like stone. It should have been angry or questioning, or even showing the shocky expression that most of them wore all the time there now. It wasn't that. It was almost like she was being so deep that she didn't think Colleen could get the idea.

  It was really pretty clear to her though. She just hadn't expected anyone else there to understand it yet. Mickey really was a great guy. He always had been. Gentle and kind on a level that made some of the things said about him seem like lies. Even if he admitted to it himself. To the best of her knowledge he didn't lie, or hadn't when they'd known each other.

  So what did that mean, really?

  "I know. I just... Really don't think that we can count on everyone else seeing it. Becky can't get the idea of any man being nice anymore, I don't think. A lot of the others are acting like he's... Well, like the others were. I don't know what to do about it." It felt strange talking to a seven year old like that. Adults were supposed to never admit they didn't know something, were they?

  The girl nodded a few times and ate for a while, before speaking in a decently low voice, already practicing for the next day. That... Well, they all needed to, apparently.

  "Be there for him? Do what he says, as best you can? I don't think there's anything else we can do. Maybe punch him a few times to show everyone else that he isn't a monster that will kill us all? I'll handle that part." There was a cute grin then, and she stood, her food finished.

  So was Colleen's. She just hadn't really noticed it. Well, she wasn't really hungry now, at any rate. That was a good thing.

  She got up, but reached down carefully and patted the little girl on the shoulder.

  "I'll... See you in the morning then, I guess. Are you sure about that? I don't think anyone will make you go. It will probably be scary."

  That got a low chuckle that sounded far too old for someone that young. It made her a little sad to hear.

  "It will be fine. The dead won't eat me. They know their own." With that, she moved off toward the kitchen, taking the plate from her own hand, as well as the fork, so that both dishes could be washed.

  That was weird, to say the least. It was probably a sign that little Darla wasn't doing so well mentally. She wasn't a zombie, but maybe she thought she was? Some kind of internal defense mechanism?

  That night she slept in the large room, on her old army cot. It wasn't that comfortable, but she had a good pillow, and everyone got their own now. At first that hadn't been the case, since the men had only found a hundred of them when they'd raided the Army reserve base three towns over. Now there were less people than that, so no one slept on the floor. The Chief had a real bed, but no one would use it. Not now.

  Still, her dreams were filled with thoughts of Mickey, as it all came back to her. Each touch, every hug, his infectious smile. There were still signs of it now, but like everything around them, it was a muted and stifled thing. Darker at times than she'd ever known him to be.

  It still bugged her that he clearly didn't get who she was.

  It wasn't until the next day, after the zombie tried to eat her face, and Darla had saved her, that she noticed something.

  He'd started calling her by name. A secret thrill ran through her then, even if what he was saying wasn't all that good to hear. It was joking though, so there was that.

  "You screamed? I can't believe that. It's a sad day Becks. A sad and sorry day." He smiled about it, and gave her a look that held something more than simple kindness now.

  Until he winced, and shook his head, looking away.

  She got it. Yes, that was her last name, but he hadn't called her that. Only Rachel. Who he loved. Everyone had always loved her, it seemed. All the men that Colleen liked that knew her too did. Even when she'd finally gotten a real boyfriend when she was just out of high school, he'd kind of fallen for her. Luckily that wasn't a problem, since she'd had Derrick by then.

  He'd been...

  Well, the truth was magnetic. Charming, even when what he'd said was clearly assholish. There was just something about him that was impossible to ignore, or say no to. The problem there was that he knew it, and abused that privilege more than once. He hadn't just cheated on Rachel, including with Colleen, many times, but he'd been blatant about it.

  Each week the jerk would bring home five or six women, and have sex with them in his marriage bed. Sometimes having them help out, and others just having them stand there, and watch what he did. Hoping that it would be their turn next. It wasn't a healthy thing.

  By the time Rachel managed to get away from him, and get a divorce, years had passed. It had left her feeling broken, naturally. Colleen too, and more than once she nearly ran back to Derrick, hoping that he'd forgive her for not... That was the problem though. She'd loved him, for years, but couldn't tell anyone why. Like her sister she'd done everything for him, and it had been taken. They'd been used, abused and degraded, but it was almost as if she couldn't help herself.

  So she did it, Stayed away, even as it hurt. Eventually things had faded a lot, thankfully.

  Even during all of that, all of the other boyfriends, which there were many of, and Derrick, she'd always kept tabs on Mickey.

  Just not well enough. It was a lot of time, wasted.

  She just looked down though, and shook her head a little. He was in pain, and she knew why. It wasn't over her poor performance that day either.

  "She was with us here. At the base. I don't know what happened to her. Rachel. One day she was there, and then she ju
st went missing." That was more polite than the situation warranted, and she knew it, but if there was any way to save her friend pain, she'd do it.

  Always.

  Mickey's face tightened.

  "She... She became a super-z, a type B. There were three of them, the first ones we saw. I... Shot her. She won't be coming back." Suddenly, he closed down totally. His face and body drew in, as the pain hit him. It nearly radiated from deep inside.

  She could feel it coming off of him. It was probably insane of her, but ever since things had come down as they had, she'd been doing that. It was probably about reading micro-expressions, or body language, but it was clear to her most of the time what people were feeling. Right now, that was pain on a level that made her want to cry herself.

  Not that it was good to hear that her sister was dead, but she'd really already known that, hadn't she? If anyone wasn't with you now, you just had to assume they were dead.

  "Oh." She didn't know what else to say. Maybe there was nothing that would help?

  So she just walked along behind the six wheeled green cart that had four good sized dead cows on it, trying to keep an eye out for more zombies. It was good to know that Mickey didn't hate her, and that now, he got that she was her. It nearly made the trip out to hunt with the others worth it. Even if she had nearly died.

  They walked in silence. Except for Sue, who complained softly about having to walk that far. The woman that had come in, Molly, tried to make her feel better, but it wasn't really working. That just made sense though. She was a bit of a whiner, and always had been.

  Then, at first she'd been heavy set, and was still kind of plump. In the first months none of the men bothered her that much. She'd been in helping to install some kind of new hardware, computers, when they'd all bugged out. Colleen didn't know what, having gotten a place there only because Rachel had insisted that she be brought along. At the beginning things were about as good for the forty-something Indian woman as anyone had there.