Dead End (Book 4): A Very Dark Place Page 8

  The trudge into town was uneventful, other than seeing a lot of animals that already seemed to have lost most of their fear of man. It was both a good and a bad thing, since it meant that the prey animals just stood there instead of fleeing, but if there were packs of dogs it could be a pain. He was big enough that they probably wouldn't want to fight him, but they might want his food. Jake made a point of staying ready, but the only thing he saw were a couple of cats that darted around, eyes glaring at him with feral intent. He was on their land after all.

  It didn't take long to find a house with a chimney, and on the sixth one he found a place with nice furniture, a fine looking glass front wood stove and a small supply of firewood that had just been left in place. There were bodies too, former zombies from the black looking frozen blood, but they didn't move at all, meaning they were well and truly dead. He pulled them outside first, which wasn't that hard and forced himself to not try and cut the heads off.

  It took work though. It was just habit now. You find a body, you take a head.

  He did lock the doors after that and found an old Bic lighter in the back of a kitchen drawer that no one had bothered to take. It was probably because there had been dead people in the place more than anything else. All the food was gone though, so someone had come in. Jake let the meat warm for a bit while he turned a fireplace shovel into a spit for roasting meat over the stove, the construction was funny on this one, which meant that the front would have to be opened in order to cook anything and there was no real benefit to having it over a fireplace.

  It worked though and a few hours later he was full again, the gnawing hunger of the day being driven back by pieces of meat trimmed from the finished parts of the leg. He looked around the place, coming back every few minutes to tend the fire and make sure the whole place wasn't going up. It was fine, but he didn't want to take chances. There was no fire department anymore, not even running water in town. That was a real concern, but for the time being he could just melt snow in pots by the fire. Bath time would be a chore, sure, but it wasn't like he had a lot to do for fun now.

  The next few days went in a predictable pattern then. He worked up a larger water system so that he could melt snow outside, collected a lot of free wood that no one was using and gathered supplies each day. On the fourth day he went hunting and got three large raccoons with the air-rifle. The whole time he didn't see anyone at all. No cannibals, no zombies and no one from the House. That last part wasn't shocking though, they should all be nicely busy saving the world by then. Starting on it at least.

  He kept busy though, making things, collecting bits and pieces, rope and cloth, extra clothing and bedding. He insulated his living room with hangings, which were mainly just blankets he'd found in peoples attics and closets, then worked on driving a well in the back yard using pipe he found at a construction site, having built a fire over the dirt to melt it. The thing didn't work at all, so it was frustrating, but he didn't let it get to him, making himself move to the next thing, over and over again.

  It was lonely, not having anyone to talk to, now that it seemed like that was a thing that was safe enough again. He missed having friends. That was the way things were though, so he kept going without a real purpose, but not ready to actually just die yet. There had been way too much practice staying alive for too long to give up now.

  When he saw the girl standing in the road, directly in front of his house he thought it was Colleen at first. She looked a lot like her, but it wasn't. That would have almost made sense, being that she was alive and all that.

  It was Rachel. At first he started going for his gun, but then he stopped. If she was one of those biological constructs, maybe there was a point to all of this? She shook her head though and stepped forward, not leaving prints in the snow.

  A hallucination then.

  "Seriously Jake? You've seen so much and you can't believe in ghosts? I have to be a hallucination? Can't even get the benefit of the doubt? I could be any of a thousand different things you know. Me being here doesn't have to mean you've gone insane. Maybe we should go inside though? We could visit for a bit? Not that anyone is out here to see us chatting, but it seems cozier."

  Jake yawned. It was a real enough thing, but got a laugh anyway.

  "I'm boring you already? Man... Look Robson, we need to talk and don't have that much time, I'm here on orders. From the other side. A few people aren't pleased with you over there. Not at all." She tried to look serious but failed, her face too cute to really pull it off. She looked the way he remembered her from life, not like the super-zombie he'd killed.

  She marched past him into the house, reaching out to take his hand on the way past, but not making contact, the limb passing through his.

  "Oops. Well, I did mention I was a ghost, right? More technically a spirit, but... yeah, let's get this done. You don't need me hanging around ruining your life any longer than I have to be."

  They settled in front of the fire, sitting on the ground. Jake had settled a mattress there for sleeping, so he could be warm. Becks sat on the other side, staring at him as if it had meaning. Like anything had meaning now. It hadn't since she'd left. Everything had just been gray since then.

  "Stop it Mickey. Just stop it. OK, so I was a bitch at the end, I should have loved you and I didn't. You sang that song and it was so good, any normal woman would have loved you, but I couldn't... I met Derrick the next day and even then he was kind of extra attractive, not what he finally became, but it felt to me like I just clicked with him. You were just my friend. My best friend, but..."

  Jake finished it.

  "But not good enough." That had always been the problem hadn't it? If he'd been better looking, a better person, maybe he would have been loved.

  Too late now.

  Rachel grabbed her head.

  "Crap. I told them this wouldn't work. It wasn't what you thought Mickey, I always knew you were too good for me. Always. You radiated goodness all the time, like a saint. I wasn't a very good person at all, not like you. I wanted to be, but the fact was I just couldn't measure up. Then, by the time I figured it all out, when I realized that I'd blown it and should have loved you, not Derrick, it was too late. I was two years married and had a husband I couldn't stand to leave who was sleeping his way through three states. I'd figured that you'd forgotten about me and moved on. I wanted you to have done that. I only ever wanted the best for you. I just didn't think it was me." She stared again, hard, as if willing him to see what she meant.

  Like it mattered now?

  "OK. I didn't move on though. Then, after things started happening, they didn't get any better. Just one step down after another really. I'm pretty sure that one of these nights, maybe soon, I'm just going to blow my brains out instead of going to sleep. I'm not even sure why I haven't yet." He smiled and held a hand up to his face, feeling stupid, like he was trying to punish her for not having loved him. She should have Rachel said, but there it was, even her ghost said it had never been the case.

  "Not about you though. It's just time. I'm not needed anymore, so I need to get out of the way. I's for the best, right?"

  "No!" She yelled the word, which got him to pull his nine to end her life if she didn't stop it.

  Rachel laughed and pointed at the weapon, but lowered her voice.

  "I'm a ghost, dumbass. You can't shoot me. No one can hear me anyway and besides, this area is still zombie free and will be for decades. That compound really kicks ass, you know that? Anything dead walking into a cleaned zone will just stop after a few hours. But anyway, back to what I was saying before you decided to get all shooty on me and try to silence my right to free speech."

  Then she smiled, a vulpine looking thing that reminded Jake of the good times, before she'd left him all alone.

  "You aren't done yet Jake. Those others may have voted you off the island, but seriously, screw them. You are The Very Good Man at the end of the world, and they need you until it's not ending anymore. You don't get out
of that just because a few people think some baby is the bomb. Not that she isn't a little cutie. Stupid name though. Hope? Why not just name her "Princess Better Than You" and have done with it. Ah well, people eat that stuff up anyway." She tried to push his shoulder, like she would have Back Before, but stopped partway through the motion, shrugging instead.

  "Anyway, that's why I'm here. You can't kill yourself and you need to go back. They won't want you, but that can't stop you. They're falling apart already and screwing it all up. They need you and always did, if only to shoot them when they stop working together. People are dumb that way."

  It was a point.

  Not that he needed to listen to a hallucination, or even the ghost of some girl he used to love that didn't have time for him, but people, when you got down to it, had some major issues. Even the Bawdri, who were all old enough to have learned to move past some things, kept walking right into trouble, didn't they? It was like something major was missing from the way everyone thought. Couldn't they see that society always worked best when people tried to work as a team?

  The ghost, or whatever she was rolled her eyes at him.

  "Damn it. I knew it shouldn't have been me, I told them all, but no, it had to be me they said. Jake won't listen to anyone else, not after his mom blew up like that. Can't send Jesus, Jake would shoot him... Argh. Stop being a little tool and go do your freaking job, will you? So I was a bitch. I admit it. I was stupid and couldn't see a good thing that was right in front of me. Colleen can though, and your girlfriend, Vicki? She wasn't just hanging around because you were supposed to be some super good guy you know, she liked you before that. OK, maybe it isn't love on her part, but you know what? Maybe some people just don't get to have real love? In all the world only one person ever really loved me and I messed that up so bad that the world nearly ended over it, so how's that for something to carry to the grave with you? The world will end without you Mickey. Go and save it and don't take no for an answer."

  She sounded incredibly certain of herself, but what was he supposed to do about it? Just go and tell everyone he was back and that they could do what he said or... What? He couldn't fight them all and if he had any Very Good Man powers they were so pale and tiny compared to Hope's that no one would take him seriously. What could he do? Beg them to let him help?

  Bribe them into being good children and try to save the world?

  Plus, he wasn't the Very Good Man. Hope was. Right?

  "Wrong. Hope is a little baby that one day, if she gets a chance to live that long, might grow up to be a very important person. Someone good and light for everyone to rally around as they put the world back together and learn to live in harmony. She isn't you though. She never was and couldn't be. Understand this Jake. Sammi lied. So did Lamont, Darian, Debbi and half the leaders remaining in the world. They needed you, so they went along with the game, knowing that you weren't anything other than some guy. One that kept doing what was needed. They sold you as the one they needed, knowing it was a risk and that they were all liars. But they were wrong. They were always wrong." She shook her head slowly, smiling again.

  "You are the one. If they could have seen you before I broke you like I did, before things shattered in your head, they would have responded to you like they are to Hope. You have to go back to that, to stop them from making the last mistake, you have to go to them as what they expect. There is no other way. Please." Tears fell down ghostly cheeks, soft sobbing causing the next words to hitch just a bit.

  "I did this. I was selfish and scared and broken, and almost everything bad that happened to the world now is my fault. If you'd been loved, nurtured by me instead of hurt, the others would have come to you and most of this would have never happened. The Technologists would have delivered their fix in weeks rather than nearly a year later and most of the world would still be alive. Because of me, what I did to you, they couldn't find you. Then you warped and bent into something so dark that no one can see what you really are.

  But you and only you can save them. By changing again Mickey. Remember what you were, who you really are. You have to. Please? I don't deserve you, but I don't deserve to carry the death of the world forever either."

  Then, in what seemed a bit of a cowardly fashion she started to fade. He had more to say, but there wasn't time now, was there?

  "I loved you Rachel. I really did you know. More than anything else in the world." He said the words not expecting a reply, but she smiled and spoke anyway, voice still clear enough to hear.

  "I love you too. Now. I wish that I'd been a better person while I lived, but don't let the world die because of me. They don't deserve it." Then she was gone.

  It was a relief.

  Jake just sat for a while though, wondering if it had been real at all, or if he'd just gotten so lonely that he'd invented an imaginary friend to play with. It wasn't clear to him at all, but one thing was. She had a point or two in there somewhere. If he was the Very Good Man, then he needed to change and prove it to everyone. Somehow. If he wasn't... then he had to fake it so well they could all see it anyway. Hope just couldn't do what they needed. That meant that he'd have to make himself really become what they needed and do it so powerfully that no one would doubt him again.

  He'd changed before, letting go of his fear and selfishness. Could he do it again?

  Smiling he decided not to worry about it for the rest of the day, just packing things up instead, for a trip the next day. Some clothing, ammunition and things to keep himself clean. The truth was that they'd probably kill him for trying, but what the heck? Dead was dead and it didn't really matter how it happened, did it?

  He slept without dreaming again and cleaned up before leaving, putting all the fires out carefully and leaving the door unlocked but closed, just in case he never made it back. It was a nice place after all. Nearly a mansion.

  He would have traded all of it for a hovel that had running water though.

  He didn't take the cart, just walking back to the House, trying to remember who he'd been as a child. The love he felt for everyone, the peace and joy he took in just being alive. How he'd made friends easily and always had a kind word for everyone. It was so different from what he was now that it seemed impossible to get back, but he could try, couldn't he?

  Jake really wanted to be good. He always had.

  No, Jake couldn't do this. He was a killer, hard and cold, doing what was needed no matter how much it hurt. He needed to be Mickey again. The kid that had gone to play music at old folks homes every month, just to make their days a little brighter. If this day was to be won at all it would have to be by him.

  Jake just stopped walking about half a mile from the front of the driveway and shook for a bit. It wasn't the cold, though the air was frigid. It was fear. A strange thing that paired itself with horrible sorrow, pain that ripped deep into his soul. Mickey was a good guy, maybe even very good, like ghost Rachel had said. But Jake had done too much, killed too many, for him to come back now. Hadn't he? It was clear that part of him still existed, but he couldn't live in the world as it was now. It was why he'd changed into Jake in the first place.

  It had to be done though. Something had to happen, or the world might not make it. He'd just have to do it, even if it hurt. Even if Mickey was too weak and small to take it. There was no other way. He started walking again, not sure what was about to happen, but not feeling any different at all, not until he saw a small yellow dog playing with Ken in the back yard, still too thin, but obviously happy and warm enough. A bit of smoke came from the metal pipe sticking out of the forge roof and some hammering sounds came from within. Instead of going to the House first, he smiled and poked his head through the open door to see Henry pounding on some metal that was too cool and Colleen pumping the bellows even though there was no metal in the fire.

  Silly of them.

  "Reheat. Watch the spread of the hot spot and stop wasting fuel Colleen. That stuff was a pain to make." It was good advice, but they didn't ta
ke it, Henry just stopping dead and looking away and Colleen running to him, arms out. She stopped short though, but he took her into his arms anyway, feeling a wash of love for her as he did. It was a stronger feeling than he expected, almost a tickle that hurt a bit when he let go.

  "Alright Henry, stop staring at the wall and get back to work." He sounded very friendly when he said it, though it didn't get movement. That made him laugh and walk over to pat the kid on the back.

  "Don't worry, I'll fix the little mistake that was made a few weeks ago. Go ahead and work and seriously, use the drip can. Let's see if Ken is up to bellows work, I'd like you to come with me Colleen." He took her hand which gripped his, even though she hadn't spoken yet.

  "You left. Without me. You said that you'd stay with me. You told Heather you would." It was small and a lot weaker sounding than it should have been from his friend.

  "I didn't want you to be without resources. Some things have come up. Saw a ghost and now I need to fix things. I mean, if I'm not insane. Or, really, even if I am. Shall we?" He hugged her again, feeling the tension of her body soften as he did.

  It was nice. A loving thing that felt more real than anything ever had.

  Still holding her hand he walked into the House, no one noticing him at first. The place was full, with even more people than the last time he'd been there, but people were in the dining area shouting at each other. They didn't even get quiet when they started to notice him.

  Smiling he walked to the front, where a panel of people sat, as if elected officials or self-proclaimed high lords. Like that would work?

  "Hello everyone. A bit of a correction. I actually am, it turns out, The Very Good Man. Now, shall we get back to work and stop bickering?" He sounded so happy about it that a hush fell over the room. From the back of the space Sammi walked toward him, looking sad and troubled.

  He winked at her.

  "I know, you thought it was fake. So did I. We were wrong. No harm though. It isn't too late to fix things." His smile even felt warm and more genuine than anything she'd ever seen from him.