Long Road Home: Pt. 2

[acquiescence]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

---

The sun was already up and shining through the trees right into his face when Jeff woke. His heart ached, the way it always did when he dreamt of Mary.

He stretched and yawned with the new day, his throat dry; he sighed. It wouldn’t be long; another day, maybe less if the heat kept up, and he’d be joining Mary – he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips at that thought. No more waking up in rundown shacks, in piles of leaves, no more hunting, no more walking … there’d only be Mary.

Jeff had never believed in God, in Heaven or Hell, in any sort of afterlife. They had this one life and that was it, when you were gone you were gone – but after … well after he’d lost Mary, he couldn’t bear thinking that she was just gone; what sort of world would this be if someone like Mary could just disappear, if she could just cease to be? He didn’t know if that meant he believed in God or any of that bullshit religion tried to teach him, but he had to believe Mary was out there somewhere, watching over him every day, waiting for him.

If he was being honest with himself, though, he sometimes thought it might have been easier just to blink out of existence than to go on with this shell of a life he had now.

But first, he had another day; as much as he may have wanted to, he couldn’t just lie there and die … he had to keep going, no matter how pointless it was going to be. There wasn’t a town; there wouldn’t be a town, at least not one he could reach in time. He knew that already, and yet he couldn’t just lay there waiting for it, even after everything it wasn’t in him to simply give up.

And so Jeff pulled himself up, brushing leaves off himself before he pushed through the bush back to the highway to start the long day’s walk. He thought about leaving his pack behind, along with his gun and empty water bottles - why carry the extra weight? In the end he decided it would be too much like just giving up if he did that; he had to at least try, no matter how pointless; the weight of the pack against his back was one of the few constants in his life now, he couldn’t just abandon it on the side of the road, not after it had come with him so far.

“Almost time, Mary.” The sound of his voice was rough, harder than he remembered it – but it had been so long since he’d actually spoke, he wasn’t entirely sure if that was how it had always sounded. Surely not, though; he couldn’t imagine Mary putting up with a voice like that.

“Going to see my girl again soon.” The thought lifted him up as he walked, “I’ve missed you so much, baby.” Jeff idly wondered if this was what going crazy was like … talking to the air as he slowly walked down an endless stretch of sun baked highway. Though if he could wonder if he was going crazy, that must mean he was still at least mostly sane – wasn’t that how that worked?

The day stretched on, long and hot, the sun rising in the sky until it was beaming down directly overhead. Jeff felt each and every step; his body cried out for water the further he went. It seemed a bit silly that not even one day after running out of water his body would be practically screaming for it already, though he remembered what it had been like working summers, the way his mouth seemed parched after even an hour without a drink.

It was a new experience, to see death coming. Every hour that passed, every step he took was just one more step closer to the end; it was almost surreal to see it coming like this, to know that he was walking towards his own end.

He decided that yes, he did prefer this sort of end; he liked that he could see it coming – that it wasn’t going to take him by surprise and it wasn’t going to be some fucking inexplicable fire either. His body just wasn’t cut out for this sort of life; he’d known that before he started, but what else had there been for him? Not Mary, not his job, not his friends – and he’d checked. Dragged Mary from their burning house, they hadn’t even stopped for coats, just ran out the door still trying to lace up their shoes.

He’d pushed her, made her run because it was the only way they were going to survive; he’d known that deep in his bones that they had to keep moving. As long as the world was burning they couldn’t stop. It wouldn’t be safe, the fires would catch up, or some idiot would catch them off guard and Jeff could not let that happen. And so they ran, through the dense mesh of trees that had surrounded their home, down the long dirt road and into town. It was in ruins before they’d gotten close - he’d wanted to keep going, to forget about anyone they may have known there. No one could have survived what happened there.

But Mary had insisted.

He could never deny her. Even at the end of the world.

They’d pushed on, going right into the middle of their ruined hometown, fires still burning here and there. He tried to keep Mary from seeing the bodies that were lying in the street, burnt beyond recognition, but there were too many – anyone they’d ever known
people they saw every day, people they’d worked with. No one had been prepared for this. They made it to Jeremy’s apartment first – or what had been Jeremy’s apartment. There was nothing left; just smoke and rubble, fires and bricks – and bodies. So many bodies - Jeff couldn’t look, couldn’t force himself to try and look through that sea of bodies for his best friend, couldn’t make himself do it.

Mary had pressed her face against his chest and tried to hold back tears that had been waiting to spill out since before they’d left the house. He’d held her close, pressed against his chest for as long as he felt they could stand there before they had to move again.

“Come on, baby.” He was trying to focus on his wife and nothing else. “We have to keep moving.”

“Ever and Zach,” she’d said quietly.

“Yeah. Come on.”

He’d felt pretty sure they would be greeted with much the same scene when they reached the next apartment, and yet he couldn’t leave without checking; Mary would never have forgiven him – and so they’d gone, looking for their friends, hoping against hope that they’d be safe, that they’d be waiting for them. Each time they were hit again with the smell of burning; Jeff turned Mary away from it. Held her tight to him, and all he could think was Thank you, Lord. He’d never prayed a day in his life, but at that moment he’d prayed, thanked whatever was out there that Mary was still with him.

He should have known better.

It was easier now. Knowing death was coming for him; he’d been running for months and now finally it would catch up with him, and he was grateful for it. He was ready to die, to be done with this.

Night was falling and the sun slipping down past the line of trees. Jeff was surprised that he’d made it through the entire day; he should have known it would take longer than just a day, though he was sure the next day he would not be so lucky. He let himself stop earlier than he would have normally and found a little spot just off the road, and lying down in the grass.

One more sleep, it seemed, one more night, one more morning, just a few more miles before he would be going home.

---

He woke early the next morning. He swallowed, trying to ease the dry ache in his throat as he stretched and pulled himself up. He was tempted to go back to sleep, but in the end he decided it would just be a pointless exercise and so he picked up his pack again and made his way back to the road.

After an hour or two of walking, Jeff felt himself faltering. The sun was rising quickly, already warm on the back of his neck in the early morning hours; he wouldn’t make it through the heat of the day this time. Instead of dread, he felt only relief; he pushed on.

It was just when Jeff was thinking about lying down right there in the middle of the road and not getting up again that he saw something on the horizon. He squinted against the sunlight and cursed his eyes - leave it up to them to start going when there was no such thing as an optometrist anymore.

It couldn’t be.

He kept walking, still squinting, cupping his hand over his eyes to cut out the glare. It was a mirage, brought on by the heat, by the lack of water – he was seeing things. He told himself these things over and over again, and yet he didn’t stop walking, just kept putting one foot down in front of the other growing closer and closer to whatever it was that he was seeing.

Buildings.

A town.

He stopped in the middle of the road when what he was seeing finally made sense to his water-deprived mind. A town, when he’d been sure there wouldn’t be another for miles. A town with water, most likely. A town with other survivors – possibly.

Fuck.

This was not supposed to be happening; he was supposed to walk until he couldn’t anymore, until he passed out, until his eyes closed and until he’d breathed his last, drawn-out breath. He wasn’t supposed to come across some Godforsaken down here in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t fucking fair – he deserved to die, deserved to be free of this, and yet just when the end was within his grasp here was his salvation.

He wouldn’t go around it, the way he did with other towns in the past. He couldn’t afford to go around, not when there might be water there, not when it meant he’d live. He knew Mary wouldn’t want him to give up - no matter how much he wanted to.

“Goddammit, Mary, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” His lips formed the words, though the sounds that came out didn’t quite match and let his head fall back to face the sun – eyes turned skywards as if Mary was really up there somewhere looking down on him. “It’s supposed to be over.” He dropped to his knees staring at the town only a few miles away now.

“You left, you left me and I could finally come find you.” His heart wrenched as he dropped his face into his hands. “This was not supposed to happen.”

And for the first time since he’d started walking he let himself cry, dry heaving sobs there in the middle of the road. All the months of loneliness, poor nights’ sleep, days of rain, going hungry for days all came pouring out at the injustice of it all. Hadn’t he been through enough, hadn’t he done enough, shouldn’t he be able to die in peace if he wanted, and not haunted by the ghost of his dead wife? It was all he wanted in the world – to die, to stop living in this Hell, and even that was being denied to him.

---

“You have to keep going.”

“Of course we are, baby, we can’t stop yet,” Jeff told Mary. He held her hand tight as they raced through the woods - Jeff had decided it would be best to steer clear of the roads for a while. They’d been on the run for two days now; they hadn’t found anyone else, and so they kept moving, stopping only to sleep and when they needed food or water.

On the second day they’d stopped in a home that looked like it had escaped most of the damage that first night had wrought They’d found water and food. Jeff had gone through every room in the house looking for anything they could use. He’d found two backpacks and hiking shoes for Mary; he was still making do with his work boots. He’d packed up all the food and water they could carry before he’d insisted they leave, despite Mary’s protests. It wasn’t safe to stay the fires would catch up, they had to keep moving.

There had been a radio - they flipped through the stations, getting only static on all the local stations, and it wasn’t until Jeff had started tuning the radio by hand that he’d managed to get a signal. A message on repeat was all there had been, something Jeff had never thought he’d hear in all his life and something that scared him more than anything they had experienced up to that point.

... Unexplained fires across the world, still no understanding what started them. Reports from as far away as Australia with the same information. Initial reports have the death toll in the hundreds of millions...

Mary had gasped.

... still burning and spreading despite all efforts to stop them. All major cities have been completely wiped out all across the world. With fires spreading from largely populated areas out to smaller-

Jeff turned the radio off, his lips pressed in a tight line as he swung one of the packs on to his back and handed the other to Mary. “Time to go.”

And they’d left, running again, staying away from populated areas.

“You have to keep going,” Mary said again.

“I am, baby, I’m not stopping,” he assured her.

“No, you have to keep going without me.”

Jeff stopped and wheeled around to face her. “What?”

“I can’t...” She was sucking in deep lungfulls of air, exhausted from all their running. “I can’t keep up. You have to keep going; I’ll just slow you down.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Jeff’s voice was harsh; he could hardly believe what she was suggesting.

“You have to.”

“No. Fuck,” he swore. “Mary, I’m not leaving you, I don’t care if you slow me down.”

“You have to live. I can’t ... You can’t die because of me.”

“We’re not going to die. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“You aren’t either.”

“Please.”

“No.”

That had been the last of that; Jeff was not going to budge and Mary could be just as stubborn as he was. He kept a tight hold on her after that and slowed his pace some.

---

You have to live

As always, it was Mary’s voice that broke through, that pulled Jeff to his feet once more when all he wanted to do was die. And he put one foot in front of the other and started walking again, despite the way his knees ached and his throat protested. He started off toward the town.

It was only half an hour or so when he reached the outskirts of the town. He could see tents and smoke from fires further down the road toward the center of town. The scent of smoke brought back images he’d rather not see, and yet he kept going. Slowly, cautiously. Just because he was dying was no reason to be careless.

There was no sign of anyone, though, the further he got into town. There were signs of life, though, signs that people lived here; they just weren’t here now, it seemed. Jeff wondered if they’d left, if this had just been a temporary stop for a large group – though Jeff doubted it. A group of survivors needed shelter needed a way to protect itself, and a town was the perfect place for that.

The burnt remains of homes and businesses provided shelter and protection from other survivors and anything else that might come their way. They wouldn’t leave a place like this without good reason. And so Jeff remained on edge; the people who lived here were likely doing the same thing preparing to either attack or wait for him to - Jeff hoped it was the former.

Jeff didn’t have to wait too much longer.

When he neared the center of the town he was suddenly surrounded, he didn’t expect anything less. Of course the 9 armed men standing around him with guns leveled at him seemed a bit excessive – he was just one man with one shotgun after all. He’d be lucky to even get his gun off his back before one of them fired, let alone make a shot – and that wasn’t even considering just how dehydrated he was at the moment.

“What do you want?” A tall man wearing glasses strode up between the men who still formed a ring around him; he wasn’t holding a gun, so far as Jeff could see – and he wondered if that was a good sign or not.

“Water,” Jeff told him plainly.

“That all?”

“A hot bath and some French fries might be nice too.” He wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation.

The man tilted his head and smirked, though it didn’t hold the same teasing humor that Jeff was used to from the expression; it was more methodical and scheming to be anywhere close to amused. Jeff might have thought, if he’d met this man under other circumstances, that this man was alright enough. But the way he was so put together even now, clothes smooth, glasses unbroken, face clean – Jeff knew there was something more to him than what he was telling and he had a feeling he’d find out soon enough.

“Alec,” he called; a young man appeared from one of the buildings. He was dressed well, despite their obviously poor living conditions, wearing a button-down shirt and his hair combed over neatly. The young man came quickly and seemed to wait for instructions rather than ask questions.

“Bring this man some water,” the man told him before the boy disappeared again. Jeff supposed he was dealing with the leader of this little group – he’d seen the dynamic before, but those were the sorts of places he tended to avoid when he could. It never ended well, a man on a power trip at the end of the world. But it seemed that it couldn’t be avoided today.

The ring of men around them didn’t lower their guns and Jeff didn’t even bother trying to look worried about the fact. He couldn’t imagine that they were going to give him water and then shoot him – though he’d been wrong before.

The young man – a boy, really – returned a few moments later, holding a plastic bottle filled with water. Jeff could see the clear wet liquid slosh around inside the bottle and he licked his lips without even thinking about it, so focused was he on the one thing that would keep him alive even a little bit longer – it was easy knowing you were going to go without water when there wasn’t any, but now it was there right in front of him barely out of reach and his body screamed for it.

Their leader took the bottle and stroked the boy’s hair before he sent him back to his hiding place with a jerk of his head.

“I’m Michael.” Perfect; Jeff was dying and this man wanted to exchange pleasantries.

“Jeff.” It may have been an exercise in ego masturbation but Jeff still had some manners.

“Jeff.” He turned the name over on his tongue, considering him before he tossed him the bottle. Jeff caught it easily; despite how sluggish his body felt he seemed to be capable of that much. Without preamble he twisted off the lid and brought the bottle to his lips, drinking deeply for a moment before he pulled it away. It wouldn’t do him any good if he drank the water too fast, and so he waited a moment before bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking again; this time it was more than just a flash of wet against his tongue before it slid down his throat. He could taste the dirt and the heat of the water, but despite all that it was the best thing he’d ever had in his entire life, he was sure of that.

Michael continued to smirk as he drank the water he’d been given, and Jeff wondered if they’d drugged it – though that seemed a little redundant at this point so he didn’t let himself worry about it too much.

It wasn’t until he’d finished draining the bottle that Michael stepped forward.

“It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen anyone new.” he started. “We started to wonder if there was anyone else left.”

“I’ve come across several groups like yours here,” Jeff commented; apart from the men with guns, Alec and Michael, Jeff was sure there were others here, they were just in hiding as Alec had been. “I’m sure I’ll come across more.”

Michael looked surprised that Jeff was going to be leaving.

“It’s quite dangerous to be traveling on your own.”

“I’ve managed pretty well on my own.”

“I can see that.”

The water incident aside, Jeff felt like he’d adjusted as well as could be expected to life on the road, no matter what this Michael thought. For the first time Jeff wondered what he looked like; he must have been a sight to see. He hadn’t shaved since before he left home, hadn’t picked up new clothes in ages; it was getting harder to find them when he raided abandoned homes, and he wasn’t even going to think the last time he’d taken a proper shower.

“Was caught a little off guard as to the water situation in these parts, but I’ve made it down from Maine, so I think I’m doing alright.” Jeff shrugged, glancing at the ring of men that still surrounded them. “Think you can get these boys to point those guns somewhere else?”

Michael nodded, more to the men around Jeff than to Jeff himself, and the men lowered their guns, though only enough to say they weren’t exactly pointing at Jeff – they still didn’t look very friendly. Jeff rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything; the last thing he wanted to do now that he had a little water in his system was to go getting himself shot. That was one way he didn’t want to die.

“Are you hungry, Jeff?” Michael asked, like they were old buddies, like he didn’t have men with guns surrounding him.

Jeff just stared for a moment before shrugging. “Been a few days since I’ve had anything to eat, so I wouldn’t say no, if you’re offering,” he told the other man honestly.

Michael nodded. “Well, of course; this may be the end of the world but we’re by no means barbarians.” He did a poor impression of the polite host.

Jeff still wasn’t sure what to make of this new situation in which he found himself; this Michael had something to hide, that much was obvious, but what exactly that was Jeff hadn’t figured out just yet. In any case, for the moment, it seemed he didn’t really have anything to bargain with, so he’d just have to wait and see what it was that Michael really wanted.

“This way.” Michael nodded his head for Jeff to follow, before he turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the buildings where Alec had come from earlier. Jeff cast a suspicious glance at the group of men still surrounding him before he started after Michael; it would be just his luck to end up getting shot in the back, after everything.

They stepped inside the rundown remains of a store front; Jeff couldn’t find any identifying signs to indicate what the store had been in a previous life, but it now looked like a mess-hall of sorts. It seemed this was where everyone had been hiding while he’d come into town. It made sense; centralized building, probably the most intact of all the buildings in town he’d seen up to this point.

He did a quick headcount of the people he could see. There was, of course, his troupe of guards; nine men plus Michael. Then there was Alec, standing off to the side like he was trying to go unnoticed; finally, a group of women. Jeff tried his best to count without really looking - he’d learned from experience that groups didn’t really appreciate it when you started counting off their women. Jeff wondered what it was about the end of the world that had people reverting back to their prehistoric roots. There looked to be about seven or eight women, and most surprising of all there were three children - possibly more hidden out of sight. It had been the first time Jeff had seen any children since that first night, and he had to remind himself not to stare.

“How long have you all been here?” he asked. Might as well get some information while he was being herded around.

“Since right after it happened; we got the fires out as quickly as we could and then started rebuilding almost immediately.”

“So you all are from this area originally?” he asked, surprised to see that so many from one area had survived.

“Not all, but most. We’ve taken in a few lone travelers, like yourself.” Michael turned to glance at Jeff over his shoulder.

“Ah.” Jeff decided it was best not to push that he wasn’t going to be staying for the moment. He still needed food and water before he left – some bullets would be good, too, if they had any to spare.

He followed behind Michael through a maze of overturned boxes set up as counter tops and tables. It looked like they’d divided up the room to serve several different purposes; something that might have been a school for the children – again, he tried not to look; few sleeping areas; and then, further in the back, was the area Jeff had seen first – boxes, parts of tables, laid in a long line to make a table with broken chairs, anything that might provide a suitable place to sit pulled up alongside. It seemed this was where they took their meals.

“Alec,” Michael called again, and the boy came rushing up; he watched the boy’s face as he approached, and he wondered if he was somehow related to Michael, or if this little group of survivors was set up like some sort of dictatorship, and if that were the case, was Michael really the leader or just some figurehead to keep the real leader out of sight? The way everyone seemed to follow Michael’s orders without any hesitation, though, seemed to suggest that he was the only leader around here.

“Fix a little something for our new friend.” Alec didn’t even look at Jeff before he had disappeared again.

He wasn’t getting a good feeling about the sort of group dynamics that were present here, but it appeared for the moment he was stuck. He followed Michael to one of their makeshift tables and sat himself down onto an overturned milk crate.

“How many people do you have here?”

“25 at last count.” Michael seemed proud of the number. “Have you run into any other groups of survivors in your travels?”

“A few.” He didn’t add that he normally went around towns whenever it was possible. “I think this might be the largest I’ve seen, though.” The groups Jeff normally encountered numbered ten or fifteen at the most. He couldn’t imagine trying to keep a group of people like this together and civil, though that might have provided at least some explanation for the role Michael had taken here.

Alec returned a few minutes later, this time carrying a tray with a hunk of bread, some raw vegetables, and another bottle of water. He set the tray down in front of Jeff without meeting his gaze.

“Thanks, kid.” He didn’t receive a response; Alec just ducked his head further and disappeared again.

“So you’ve been traveling since it happened?” Michael asked. It seemed that even this large group didn’t have any better explanation for what had happened than the little bits and pieces Jeff had been able to gather over the last several months.

“Yeah, since that first night.”

“And you’ve been on your own since the beginning?”

“Yeah.” Jeff hesitated before he answered, but he didn’t feel the need to tell Michael about Mary and how she’d died, especially seeing as he’d been thinking about that night too much over the last day or so.

“Interesting. I’m impressed that you’ve lasted this long on your own.”

“Been taking it a day at a time.” Jeff shrugged, already tearing into the bread without thought for how hungry he must have seemed to them; all he cared about was getting food in his belly, anything to ease that slow curling pain that had been gripping him for days, made all the more apparent once he’d gotten some water.

“And you plan on leaving here as well?” Michael asked, like he wanted Jeff to stay; Jeff had no intentions of that at all. “You haven’t found anywhere you’d want to stay?”

“You’ve been real kind,” Jeff started; he knew that much and he knew he’d most likely be paying for that before he would be allowed to leave. “But I’m heading down the coastline, guess I’ll know exactly where I’m going when I get there.” He shrugged, bringing the bottle of warm water to his lips and tipping it back - he didn’t drink as quickly this time, still aching for more water, but the little bit he’d gotten earlier was enough to take that stabbing pain away.

“That’s a shame; we can always use more hands around here.”

“You seem to have quite a few already.”

“Yes, we do,” he agreed.

“I wouldn’t be much help to you anyway,” Jeff lied; this was probably one place where his previous set of skills would serve him well, but he couldn’t stay here. “And I don’t want to be a burden on anyone.”

“No one is a burden here,” Michael insisted. “We all serve our purposes.”

“And what’s your purpose?”

“I’ve taken on a leadership role,” Michael told him, confirming Jeff’s earlier suspicions. “I do a lot of the planning and take care of the details.. Some of us –” He grinned slowly, indicating the men who still stood around them holding guns, appearing a bit more relaxed now. “– have experience in labor as well as marksmanship. Some teach, others do the cooking and farming, and there are a few other things that get taken care of as well. Everyone has somewhere they fit.”

Jeff nodded; the farming explained the fresh vegetables, and he’d apparently been right about the school area. He wondered about the other jobs Michael had mentioned but not elaborated on, but felt it was best he didn’t know.

“It sounds like you all have a real nice system worked out here.”

“It works for us.”

“I think I’ll still be on my way,” Jeff repeated. “I wonder if I might get a bit of extra food and water from you all before I leave?” Still nothing to offer and it was apparent Michael wanted him to stay; Jeff hoped this initial hospitality would carry him through until he was ready to leave.

Michael pressed his lips together, considering what Jeff had asked. “Are you sure you won’t stay? I’m sure we can figure something out for you.”

“You all have been real kind, apart from the guns, but I’ll need to be getting back on the road.” It was a silly argument, really; Jeff knew that. He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know what he was going to do when he ran out of coastline, and he couldn’t explain the reason for the trip without mentioning Mary and he couldn’t bring her up now.

“Do you have anything to trade?” Michael asked, finally.

Jeff shrugged. “Not really, all I’ve got are the clothes on my back and my pack, which is empty, and my gun.” And if he was going to be leaving, he couldn’t give up any of that.

“Well that does create quite the pickle, doesn’t it?”

Quite the pickle? Jeff tried not show his surprise at the phrase and he wondered again about the sort of man Michael really was. Obviously this front he was showing him now was at least partially an act; Jeff just wasn’t sure how much was real and how much was the act.

“Look, if this is going to be a problem, I’ll just leave, you all have already been kinder than I deserve. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” Jeff was really more concerned with getting out of the town again than he was about where he’d find food and water once he was free of this place.

“I don’t think that would be wise.” Michael shook his head grimly.

“It’s not the first time I’ve done my own hunting and I’m pretty good at finding water most of the time,” Jeff assured him; he was starting to think his chances of actually making it out of town were not going to be very good.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve had to be quite resourceful in that aspect,” Michael agreed, “but the next water source is days away. You won’t make it.”

Jeff swore; if Michael wasn’t lying about the distance then he was right. He wouldn’t make it - and after facing death like that once already he wasn’t exactly relishing the thought of doing it again, not when he obviously had another option, no matter how loathsome it was.

“Is there nothing I can give you to get the things I need?” he asked; Jeff was going to do his damnest to get out of this place if he could. He didn’t want to be here under this man’s rule.

Michael was quiet for a moment, as if considering if there was anything Jeff could possibly offer that would be worth the precious resources he was asking for. Jeff already knew nothing he had was going to be enough; he couldn’t part with his gun or his pack, He supposed if Michael really wanted he could give him his clothes, but it looked like they had enough there.

There was still food left on his tray, but what he’d already eaten was sitting like a rock in his stomach now that it seemed he might not get the chance to leave. Eating more at the moment was not an appetizing thought. He’ became more aware of the men still surrounding them; he didn’t look at any of them, but he had a feeling they all have their eyes on him - he shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have come to this Godforsaken town, should have just let himself die.

“I think I might have come up with something.” Michael interrupted his thoughts a few moments later, and Jeff looked up from the place he’d been starting.

“Yeah?” Jeff wasn’t exactly hopeful, but there was the possibility that it wouldn’t be too terrible.

“Misha,” Michael called, and instead of the young boy Jeff had seen twice before, an older man came. He’d been in another room; Jeff supposed there were even more people back there. This man was younger than him, maybe pushing into his mid thirties, his hair dark and messy and he could use a shave. What caught Jeff most about him were his eyes; he avoided eye contact in the same way Alec had, but the color Jeff saw there was brilliant.

“This is Misha.” Michael introduced the other man to Jeff, and he looked up for just a moment, only long enough for Jeff to wonder if he’d actually identified the color of his eyes correctly at first glance. “Misha, this is Jeff.” Misha stayed silent and nodded slowly, like he was waiting for his next order.

“This is the solution to our little pickle,” Michael said proudly; Jeff couldn’t help the look of confusion on his face, and he didn’t fail to notice the tense set of Misha’s shoulders at Michael’s pronouncement.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Jeff said slowly, seeking clarification.

“You’ll take Misha with you when you leave town, and we will give you both as much food and water as we can fit into two packs.”

“Wait ... what?” He would take Misha? That didn’t even make sense. “What do you mean, I’ll take him? I travel alone; I can’t have anyone else with me slowing me down.”

Michael clicked his tongue and sighed. “Then I’m sorry, but we can’t give you what you need.”

Jeff just stared wide eyed from Michael to Misha and back again. This didn’t even make sense. “Why? Why would you send him with me? Don’t you need hands here? You said that.”

“Yes, I did; unfortunately, the skills Misha has to offer are no longer in demand the way they were when he first arrived.” Jeff caught Misha glance toward the place where Alec was trying to stay invisible.

“And what sort of skills does Misha have to offer?” he asked slowly, putting the pieces together in his mind but still not making sense of the complete picture.

Michael smirked this time, his lips twisting cruelly with the motion. “Before that night Misha was a teacher, isn’t that right?” He reached out and stroked his hand down Misha’s arm slowly, and the pieces were clicking into place more quickly now. “He was a yoga instructor.” Another piece. “You can imagine when we found him, there wasn’t much left - Yoga doesn’t exactly teach you the sort of things you need to know to survive the end of the world.” He was still smirking at Misha as he spoke.

“He couldn’t farm, and he couldn’t shoot, and we learned early on to keep him out of the kitchen.” He chuckled as he spoke, the sound wrapping itself around the rock in Jeff’s stomach the longer it went on. “But it turns out Misha did have something he could offer to us here.” Michael’s hand was on Misha’s hip now, and Jeff could see where this was going, could see it and couldn’t stop it no matter how much he wanted to. “And we made quite good use of those skills, didn’t we, boys?” There were dark rolls of laughter from behind him that joined in with Michael’s.

“Though now,” Michael dropped his hand and turned from Misha; his gaze went easily to the spot where Alec was, like he didn’t even have to search him out, he just knew he would be there. “Now it seems we no longer require his skills, and so he has become a bit of a burden to us.” Misha stood still and quiet throughout the entire speech, and Jeff wondered just how broken the man was.

“So you’ll take him off our hands for us and we’ll give you the supplies you need.” Michael smiled easily as he returned his eyes to Jeff.

Jeff felt ill. He wanted to reach across the table between them and slam his fist into Michael’s smug face, to feel the satisfying snap of those glasses he wore and shatter the bone beneath. He wanted to help Misha; he really did - he just didn’t want to have to take care of him afterwards. And there was Alec, too, it seemed – possibly the women as well. He couldn’t help all of them, especially not with those men all at his back; he wouldn’t even make it across the table before he’d feel the first bullet slide between his shoulder blades.

Clenching his fists beneath the table in an attempt to reign in the rage he felt flowing through him, Jeff took a slow and steady breath. He couldn’t afford to have someone tagging along with him, didn’t want the company either, or the responsibility.... but, God help him, he couldn’t leave him here either.

“I want a box of shells, too,” he said finally with a sigh of resignation.

Michael nodded and grinned like he’d won. And he had.



Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5