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“Clear!” Pooch’s call was a breath of fresh air, even if the actual air inside wasn’t. The musty old house sat in the middle of the pine barrens in New Jersey and was probably worth a million easy, back in the day when people gave a shit about money.
“At least we don’t have to clean the place out this time,” Clay commented, dropping onto the couch in the living room and putting his rifle to the side. About fifteen miles back, they’d raided a CIA safehouse that Steigler had given them the location of and replenished their ammo supply, but the place had been crawling with zombies, and it was just easier to move on. Keep moving north.
To what, Jake didn’t know anymore. He used to hope they’d get to Nashua and find Jenny and Beth alive and well. Cell tower was down, phones ran out of batteries, too busy to call her baby brother… something.
Now he just figured they’d find more of what they’d been finding for the past few thousand miles. Death and dead and undead and dying. He sometimes wondered why he was dragging the guys up there. They could be trying to figure out a way to get to California so Pooch could bitch at Jolene in person about the fact that only she would pick the zombie apocalypse to go visit her old high school friends in Fresno. At least if she’d been up in Springfield, Mass., they’d know they were heading for live people.
“Solar panels and a well,” Cougar reported.
“Pantry full of dry goods, too,” Pooch said.
Jake snorted. “Thank God for millionaire survivalists.”
Clay sat forward on the couch. “Place is defensible—”
“Barely,” Pooch refuted.
“—for the night,” Clay finished. “We’ll set a guard, get some grub, pack what we can carry and head out again tomorrow.”
“I’ll take first watch,” Jake said quickly. The thought of grub turned his stomach. And it wasn’t like any of them expected him to eat anyway, was it?
*********
“Nice place,” Coug remarked as he joined Jake in the evening chill. It'd be winter soon. Christmas was in a month—which made Jake think of Thanksgiving, which made him want to puke. The sun was setting and Jake had his rifle in his lap, sitting on one of the Adirondack chairs on the back deck.
“And zombie free,” Jake commented. “Never a bad thing.”
They sat in silence. All they ever did now, because every time anyone wanted to “talk” all Jake wanted to do was scream. Coug understood. The others just stayed the hell out of his way.
“Jake,” Cougar murmured after the dark had taken over. “Ten o’clock.”
Jake shifted silently, raising his rifle and training it on an approaching figure.
Kid zom. Jesus, he hated them. Hated this whole God damned world. He sighted the walking corpse and—
“Jensen, don’t!” Cougar cried out.
—shot it between the eyes. The thing fell dead (well, dead again), but for some reason, Cougar was up and running toward it. Jake followed, something crawling up his throat at the way Cougar fell to his knees beside the corpse.
Beside Bethy. Who had been very much alive right up until he’d killed her.
Jake shot out of the nightmare and sat up in the bed he and Cougar had appropriated for the night. He ran for the bathroom in time to rid himself of the food he’d been moron enough to try eating tonight. Stupid, Jake, he berated himself as his stomach turned itself inside out. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
After a long minute, he stood straight and moved to the sink. The house was off-grid and working, so he actually got to run some water and rinse his mouth out. The well water was ice cold and made his teeth ache. At least pain lets you know you’re alive, right?
He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. His ribs were showing. His face was sunken in. Before all this shit, he’d been pretty damn buff, if he did say so himself. Now he just sort of… kept going.
He wasn’t an idiot—he knew he should eat. But the very idea was really disgusting. Everything smelled like something dead—even shit he used to like to eat. Keeping it down was a monumental effort, too, and not one he was up to making often. Especially when this happened.
But sitting at a table with the guys, having a meal like they used to do? That was even worse, because it wasn’t like they used to do at all. Even with Max, even with all the crap they’d gone through to bring him down, they’d been happy. Okay, not thrilled to be declared dead and disgraced and everything, but life had been worth living.
He looked at the bones under his skin in the mirror and wondered if that was true anymore. Now they sat and, if they spoke at all, talked about the next town or whatever was going on with Jolene (and life sucked ass when you were sick of hearing about Jolene, that was for damned sure) or the intell Steigler had, which was never useful.
It was like they were zombies, too. Moving through the world like machines. Heading north because they’d been programmed to by the utter shit of what the world had become.
Cougar was suddenly leaning against the door jamb, looking at him in the mirror. Jake didn’t bother to say anything and Coug didn’t either. Because what did you say, really?
I love you, man. I’m sorry about everything—just everything you know?
I still love you, too, even though you’re a complete fuck-up nutjob?
Coug walked forward and took Jake’s hand and Jake turned from the skeleton in the mirror and let himself be led back to the bed.
Because for Cougar—and God please for Beth and Jenny—he could spend one more day breathing.
Even if he was more dead than alive.
******
the end