by Noah Porter
Paige handed the gun to Andrew and followed the few others who had gone inside. Kyle let go of Stan, who shook out his arm. Stan muttered, but Kyle no longer cared to continue the argument. Paige, Ben, and Kyle were the first to enter, with Karen directly behind them. Others began filtering into the building after them through the narrow door. Unsure where to go or where the first scouts had gone, Paige gingerly made her way down the hall, pressed against the wall, taking note of the door to the brewery on the right, and the bathrooms and office a little further down on the left. As they passed the door marked for the brewery, Ben lightly jabbed her with his elbow, motioned to the door and gave a thumbs up. Paige shook her head and moved forward. Disappointed, Ben turned to Kyle and made the same gesture, then he mouthed, “Later.”
Inside a large room at the end of the hallway, the group found Dylan, Lily, and Mason sitting at the bar with several people who were not in the Portland party, all of them with water in front of them, ice cubes and all. "We found a few live ones. It was the best sign that it was time to kick back and relax." Lily greeted the party as they entered, her feet up on the bar stool beside her. She swiveled the stool and offered Paige a seat next to her, who sat down without a word.
The earlier residents of the establishment waved as the new people crowded into the restaurant. It was plenty of space for the party, but it was soon explained that there wasn't enough food for so many. Then, one of the residents spoke up with some welcome news. "We may not have enough food for you all, but what we do have is plenty of alcohol. We've kept things running and kept right on brewing, straight through this little apocalypse."
Another spread his arms, "Welcome to the post-apocalypse party!"
There were cheers from the haggard survivors. They had lost over ten percent of their original number during the Portland departure. With roughly thirty-five hungry and tired people looking to unwind, this was almost as good of news as they could have imagined hearing.
"Where is our salvation, then?" One Portland survivor inquired above the cheers.
Mason stood up, slamming his hands on the bar, then strode out of the room toward the kitchen muttering something no one could understand. The last thing they saw was his bag disappearing through the door.
"Hey, is that the way to go?" Stan asked, thinking that even dealing with that jerk was worth it for the sweet oblivion alcohol could bring.
"Naw man, it’s all downstairs," a guy volunteered.
"Which way?" Andrew asked. It seemed that, just maybe, things were turning out pretty well. Casualties had been fewer than Mason's initial risk assessment before they left the city. While Andrew felt some guilt for their losses, it seemed they finally had a chance to rest and recoup. That had earned him a drink or two.
"This way, my weary wanderers" A guy with blonde hair stood up and showed the eager crowd the way to temporary distraction. Several others from his group joined them heading downstairs, introducing themselves along the way and disappearing down the hall.
Karen had quietly pulled up a seat next to Dylan, placing herself between her man and Paige. As much as she wanted to join the crowd heading downstairs, she was more concerned about leaving those two together. Dylan had definitely been more protective of her than Paige as they made their way here, but the girl didn't seem to take the hint. She frequently caught them talking in hushed voices away from the group. The thought of it made Karen angry.
Kyle sat down on the other side of Paige and Ben made himself comfortable on the bar. Several others found themselves spots in the dining area to sit and finally feel carefree for the first time since leaving the city. They were more interested in seeing what food was available and getting an idea of what was next.
Dylan gave the trio who joined them at the bar a tired grin, "I can't believe you guys aren't joining the celebration downstairs."
Ben grabbed the bar and leaned forward, "After Kyle and Paige's little display, it’s probably best we cool off away from the more moronic element."
Dylan looked at them. Karen saw her chance, "Paige grabbed Stan's gun and caused a fight right at the door."
Ben laughed, "And here is what really happened." Karen threw a nasty look at him but he completely ignored her. "Once Mason followed you in, a lot of people decided you were right about needing to check things out."
"Ah, well that explains the silence. I wondered why people weren't stampeding over me to get in. Man, talk about whacked priorities."
Lily chuckled, "It's so true. Of all the things we have to fear, Mason is, by general agreement, the scariest.” She had her hands wrapped behind her head.
Everyone but Karen laughed. She typically agreed with the majority of the survival group, not the people at the table.
"He killed Ruth, or have you forgotten about that little detail?"
Dylan looked at her and muttered, "Not this again."
Ben and Lily laughed loudly. Paige rolled her eyes, got up, and joined a table in the dining area. Kyle's eyes were closed as if trying very hard not to become angry at Karen.
Karen was emboldened by Paige's departure. She decided to push forward with her victorious momentum, "Ruth was my friend and everyone saw how Mason reacted, laughing and saying good riddance as she screamed. He was even washing her blood off of him! How can you guys forget?"
Dylan pushed back from the bar. He looked down at her and said, "You know that isn't how it happened, so whatever you are trying to do, it isn’t working. As I have explained several times already, that wasn’t her blood on his leg. He sustained a pretty nasty cut on his leg while he was helping me recover supplies from one of the houses before I went on duty, so it was his blood.” Dylan seemed to have a quick internal fight with himself before saying, “As the person who keeps touting herself as the group’s medical aid, you really, really should have already known that. The real problem is that you didn’t do a damn thing when Mason was hurt, and don’t think that some of us haven’t noticed.”
The shock on Karen’s face was genuine. Dylan had never spoken to her like that before, and he had certainly never criticized her to her face or in front of others. Her cheeks turned red as she looked down at the bar.
Dylan continued, letting go of thoughts he had kept inside for far too long. “Then, when I returned, I was on watch. I was on duty when she decided to leave camp on her own, and as I told you the last time you tried this rant, Ruth would not listen when I told her not to go out alone. I wish she would have listened, but she didn't. Mason did not laugh while we listened to her screams. Mason did not have her blood on his leg. And Mason did not say anything when she was dying. Now, unless you are saying you believe some alternate universe version of the facts, knock it off.” Dylan turned his head to the rest of the people at the bar, “Please excuse me."
Karen was scared he was going to join Paige. To her relief he headed off into the kitchen, something that should have bothered her much more had she been able to focus on more than just her jealousy.
Kyle, however, had reached his limit with the girl. "What the hell kind of moron are you? Mason is one if the few useful contributors to this group. You are excluded from that category, by the way. What the hell have you done to help anyone but yourself?"
Karen's victory, in her mind, had been short lived; now she was back on the defensive. "I’ve helped a lot of people when they were hurt.”
Ben sniggered, “Yeah, we’ve kind of noticed how selective you are about who you will help though. That is hardly the team spirit you want your medic to have.”
“I’m not a doctor or a nurse, I’m just a therapist. What I know is pretty limited because I was highly specialized. I help the people with injuries that I can understand.”
Lily gave her a serious look, “Are you saying you don’t understand a gash on someone’s leg?”
Karen began to splutter with rage, “Alright, I didn’t want to help Mason after Ruth died. How many people even feel safe with him around?”
All of the Portland party a
t the bar raised their hand. Even a couple of people near them in the dining area who could hear the heated conversation raised their hand.
Karen sneered, “I didn't see any of you guys come in after Mason followed Dylan."
Lily blinked at her a couple of times and replied, “I may be short, but I can’t believe you missed me walking in. I laughed at you guys. Remember?”
Kyle replied at the same time, "That's because we couldn't have sent everyone with a brain inside."
Ben shrugged next to him, "Actually, she has a fair point."
Shocked, Karen said, "Thank you Ben. I'm glad someone sees logic." She chose to completely ignore Lily’s response.
Ben continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, "If we had left most of those guys outside, they would have been like doubling the number of zombies out there.”
Karen interrupted “DON’T call them that!”
But again Ben ignored her, “I mean, you could hardly tell the difference between the two. Karen, next time you shall have your wish. I, at least, promise never again to stay to help protect the majority of the group when our competent members have gone on without them."
Karen's face twisted from shock to rage. "I don't have to stay here and listen to this. Stan's right. You guys are becoming more and more like Mason every single day."
Ben shrugged again, "I think that we are just a little less perceptive than he is about character. Call us optimistic in the face of reality, but we want to believe the best about the people we travel with, despite the obvious reality."
Kyle put his face near Karen’s, "And you are right, sweetie. You don't have to sit here and take this. So get up and leave." Karen stared at him. "Now."
Karen looked intimidated and scared for a second. Dylan had made friends with the guys for whatever reason, and they were obviously rejecting her. She stood up. With her eyes cast down she said, "I'm sorry. This whole thing is so surreal. I'm just tired. You guys are right, and I'm sorry." She walked over to a small group of people at the table furthest from the bar.
Finally, one of the Hood River group spoke up, breaking the awkward silence. "Wow. Is this what it's like out there? You have to worry about being eaten by the living and the dead?"
The remaining Portland trio looked at the small group of new people. Finally, Ben said, "Pretty much. Stupidity is one if your greatest liabilities. And, oh, look, we have that in spades." Only Lily laughed. Kyle nodded and leaned back with his hands behind his head
The blond-haired guy returned to the bar to catch the end of the criticism "Doesn't sound like the best strategies for survival are being employed anywhere in your group. How did you guys even make it this far with that sort of attitude?"
Kyle glared at him, “How would you know? You guys have been holed up here for how long?”
One of the others stepped in, holding up her hands, “We’ve been here for five long weeks. My brother and I fought our way down here from the other end of town, so we know how difficult it can be. You are safe now, so try to calm down and relax. Let some of that negative energy go.”
Lily squinted her eyes, as she looked at the woman who had stepped forward, “Are you some type of post-apocalyptic hippie It’s more post traumatic stress than negative energy.”
The blond laughed, “That’s what I keep telling her, but you know how those Californians are. So set in their ways.”
“Oh dear brother, you are every bit as Californian as I am,” she said poking a finger into his chest.
“I wasn’t born there, I was dragged there when I was four. It may have gotten my body, but it never got my heart.” The woman rolled her eyes.
Kyle looked at the duo, “You’re Californians? What brings you so far north? Surely you didn't come to enjoy the apocalypse with rednecks?”
Several people laughed, and she responded, “No actually, we are here on vacation. Or were here on vacation - isn’t much of a vacation now. We only got three days of kite-boarding in when this happened,” she gestured toward the back window overlooking some buildings and the river.
Her brother corrected her, “I think you mean that way,” and he pointed toward the kitchen and the town on the other side of the outer wall.
“Argh, you can be so infuriating sometimes, you know that brother?” She slapped his arm while he laughed in response.
“It’s one of the useful features of a big brother,” he grabbed her and messed up her hair. Everyone seemed to relax as they enjoyed the entertainment of siblings. It was a slice of humanity, a reminder of life before all of this.
When they settled down, the introductions began. The Portland party at the bar introduced themselves and shook hands with the people they thought of as the locals, even if a few of them had come from California.
Jackson and Claire introduced themselves first, followed by Phillip, Asher, Austin, Maddy, Connie, Sally, and Ashley. They settled down to discuss how they had ended up where they were. When Lily asked the siblings from California, Jackson and Claire, what had made them come down here instead of staying somewhere safer, Jackson quickly responded.
“Do you have siblings?” Almost everyone nodded. “Can you imagine being stuck in a little cabin with that sibling for the rest of your life? I mean, it would have been all right if we had had a long length of rope, but…” Claire was punching him in the arm. She was at the taller end of average height for a woman, but her brother was a full head taller than her. He simply laughed as she tried to get some other kind of reaction from him.
Finally, too tired to keep it up, Claire turned to the group, “What he really said was if he was going to die, he was going to do it nice and drunk, or die trying to get to the brewery, at least.”
Jackson nodded his head in agreement, “Hear, hear!”
His sister rolled her eyes, “It’s what you said. You don’t agree with yourself like that.”
“Don’t see why not,” he replied.
“Hear, hear,” came a voice from behind them. “You should always have enough conviction in what you say to second it yourself.”
They all turned to see Mason, leaning against the doorframe, a sincere smile on his face, and Dylan, both starting to walk towards them. Dylan looked around the room and seemed to be deciding where he should sit, now that he had calmed down. Kyle pushed a bar stool toward him, “I wouldn’t go to her just yet. She’s still got that annoyed look on her face and she really hasn’t been talking to the guys she’s with. It means she doesn’t want to talk right now, to anybody.”
Dylan nodded his head and sat down. He really wanted to talk to Paige, but these guys knew her a lot better; planning their next move could wait. Maybe when more people had adjourned downstairs he would get a few of them together to discuss how and when to move on. Ever since the majority of survivors had protested clearing out the zombies in the town in favor of getting to the brewery, he had felt uneasy. It wouldn’t have been difficult to clear the town, and they had more than enough people to execute it with minimal risk – at least, that was how he saw it. That was how they had made it this far so easily, but, in the end, the lure of alcohol had turned too many minds against logic. He looked over at Mason, “Going to join us?” He stood up and offered his bar stool.
“Oh, please, do you really want to sit with someone as ruthless as me?” Most of the Portland survivors laughed. Lily threw a spoon at him. He caught it with ease and, faster than anyone could react, he threw it back at her. She heard it fly past her ear and strike a pillar behind her.
Lily responded by throwing ice cubes from her drink at him. Mason swiftly made his way towards her, dodging or catching everything she threw. Finally he reached her at the bar. He put his hand on the glass over her hand. She stared at him over the water. With a swift motion he flipped the glass over, dumping its contents on her head. She let out a shocked yelp. When he stepped back to laugh, she ran forward head down and began grabbing at his shirt. He maneuvered around her attempts, easily avoiding all of her attempts to sully his shirt.
“Here,” Phillip stepped between them, proffering a cloth from under the counter to the now-wet, dark-haired woman.
“Mason, you twit. That was perfectly good water you dumped over my head.”
Without a word, Mason picked up her glass and headed to the kitchen, and seconds later he was back with a fresh glass of water.
“Much better,” she replied. He gave a stiff bow and sat down on the bar stool Dylan had offered. Dylan leaned against the bar, relaxing just enough to feel tired from the last month’s journey.
Jackson looked at them, a content grin on his face, “So this is Thanksgiving, is it?”
Kyle looked at him, “It’s at least approximately Thanksgiving. We haven’t exactly kept a calendar lately. Something else came up.”
