Commune: Book Two (Commune Series 2) Read online

  I should mention here that this was the last time Jake actively addressed Edgar that evening, instead only choosing to respond to him politely when spoken to directly. George shook silently in suppressed amusement, which aggravated me; I hated being left out of a joke.

  Jake now looked back to Blake Gibson, who always insisted on being “Just Gibs” and said, “You were saying, please?”

  Gibs looked up from his glass and nodded. He raised it to his lips, threw the entire thing back in one gulp, and said, “We were heading for open country free of any nuclear power plants when we started out. That meant heading north from Texas for Colorado.”

  Jake and I both settled back into our chairs to listen to Gibs fill us in on the last few weeks of their lives together. His narrative was supplemented at times by the others when it seemed he might pass by a detail that was important to them. Gibs didn’t mind being interrupted at all and yielded the floor happily to anyone who cared to add additional perspective.

  I won’t recount the details of his story here as I believe he’s already relayed as much to you during his own interviews. I will say that both Jake and I were horrified by their encounter in Denver. In our entire time together, we had not once run into such a large and apparently organized group of aggressively hostile people. While we’d definitely had some run-ins with some incredibly unsavory people (and dealt with them accordingly), these were always limited to very small groups. In the total of my experiences, we had only come up against perhaps two of what I would consider to be evil people. Maybe only one. Everyone else seemed to be in the same boat we were; just stumbling around attempting to find a new place in the world while at the same time trying to avoid getting killed by everyone else.

  A pack of people on motorcycles chasing down a group on foot, one of them badly wounded, didn’t sound to me like an innocent mistake. That wasn’t just the average struggle for limited resources. It sounded to me like a pack of hyenas. I felt a prickle along the sleeves of my shirt and looked down to see goosebumps along my arms.

  I also noticed, during Gibs’s story, when Edgar spoke up at the death of Kyle and Jessica. He said, “A needless loss.” Wang, who was reserved and could be very hard to read, frowned in Edgar’s direction. I was a little surprised myself; his tone was just shy of accusatory. Even more surprising, Gibs said nothing to defend himself. He only nodded his agreement.

  The rest of the story was finished between all of them with focus jumping from person to person as one filled in any details that the other may have missed. The narrative ended with Jake being handcuffed on the pavement. I wanted to reach out and hit him when I heard that. As stupid as it sounded to me, it was just like something my Jake would do.

  “Essentially,” Jake concluded, “You’ve all just been looking for a place to settle.” They all nodded and a couple of them vocalized agreement. After letting the silence hang just a little longer than what was comfortable, he said, “What are your thoughts on this area?”

  Gibs sat up straight on the couch and said, “What, you mean this valley? Are you asking us to move in?”

  Rather than answer, Jake took a sip from his glass and waited.

  Gibs looked among his other companions and then looked at Jake again. “You don’t even know us, man. Why the hell would you do that?”

  “You’re not murderers, I know that. I can sniff out a murderer…none of you fit. I’ve already explained what I’ve seen so far; I don’t think I need to spend a lot of time repeating myself.”

  “Right, but ‘not murderers’ is a rather weak basis for such an offer, wouldn’t you agree?” Gibs asked. I found myself agreeing with him.

  Jake nodded and said, “Can I top that up for you?” while pointing at Gibs’s glass. Gibs shrugged and held it out for a refill.

  “Look,” Jake said as he settled back into his chair, “You’re right. Under normal circumstances, we’d be feeding you all and sending you on your way the next day. But I’m not making this offer because I’m such a nice guy. Or, at least, that’s not the entire reason.”

  George was leaning forward now, resting both hands on the head of his cane. It was the most intent I’d seen him through the entire discussion.

  “Amanda and I have been working on and adding to a list of things that need to be accomplished over the next several months. There are all kinds of lovely, thoughtful names we can apply to this list but the bottom line is that it defines our expiration date for survival.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and suppressed a shudder. He was drifting into territory that I did my best not to think too much about; the dark things that kept me awake in the late hours of the night.

  “The best way to describe this is that we’re in a race right now to get to a point where we’re not relying on any of the supplies of the old world when they run out. We’re already well on our way to that point, actually. Fresh bread, meat, and dairy simply don’t exist anymore unless we make it…which we can’t; anything that was packaged and put on a shelf went bad a long time ago. It won’t be long before gasoline stops working, either. We’ve been working to harvest as much of that as possible, as you’ve seen, and we’ve treated what we have so far with fuel stabilizers. Even so, within a couple of months, give or take, whatever we haven’t pulled out of a tank will have gone inert.”

  He took another drink without looking away from them. There was an impression that he was holding eye contact with all four of them at the same time, though that was impossible. They sat motionless and silent.

  “After that will be the canned and freeze-dried food, which is currently the majority of our food supply. The dates will vary, there, depending on the food type, but I don’t think we can reasonably rely on more than a year in that case. After that, our only option will be MREs and what we can hunt, fish, or farm. The problem with that is there are only three of us here.”

  “I’m starting to see the problem,” George said.

  “Indeed,” Jake agreed. “For a workable subsistence farm, we’re probably looking at one acre per person if we’re talking about vegetables alone. Add in grains and livestock, which we’ll need to do for dietary diversity, and that number increases to five working acres per person. These are all round numbers, of course, but they work as a good baseline. This is further complicated by the fact that the area we’re in has one of the shortest growing seasons in the whole state; there isn’t really any growing season to speak of at all for tender vegetation. We’re looking mostly at roots and the like.”

  “Have you thought of moving to a better climate?” asked Wang.

  “Sometimes but not seriously,” Jake said. “For one, it’s hard to beat the area. It’s secluded, hard to find if you don’t know what you’re looking for, and naturally defended on all sides. You’ll excuse me if I mention the fact that you all had your asses kicked across Colorado looking for something similar.”

  This woke me up. It was always an event when Jake decided to curse; I wondered what had brought it out.

  Gibs, who had settled back and seemed a little loose around his second glass of whiskey, said, “Kicked a little ass too, fella.”

  “Oh, that’s understood,” Jake said and lifted his glass to Gibs, who in turn gave a lazy salute. “And, for another thing, we killed quite a few people to protect this place. We lost a dear friend in doing so. This is Billy’s place. He believed there was a way to make it work here and we have a lot of his initial planning to see it through. We’re not prepared to walk away just yet.”

  Gibs nodded at this statement. He got it.

  “Anyway, outside of the farming situation, there’re plenty of other things to do. There is a lot of relearning of lost trades and arts that must be accomplished so that we can be ready for the day when all of these leftover products just aren’t viable anymore. Things like metal working, pottery, building permanent housing without milled lumber. We need to know how to find water; this place has a well but wells go dry. Aqueducts, animal processing, skinning and ta
nning, food preservation. On top of that, I need to be looking to our defenses, stockpiling more weapons and ammunition, even preparing for the day when we eventually fire the last bullet. That day is out there on the timeline and it’ll be here a lot sooner than we’d like if we’re not careful.”

  Jake drained the last of his glass and smiled.

  “This is an awful lot of work for three people, one of them being a child. Like I said: this isn’t about us playing the role of Charitable Savior. We need help. The three of us on our own can survive…maybe. A community of people can thrive.”

  “So…who’s in charge?” asked Edgar. George and Wang looked in his direction; George nodded slightly. Gibs was looking down at his empty glass as though he found it offensive.

  Jake looked in his direction as well, and here I have to say that things started to get a little uncomfortable in the room. Jake smiled and nodded; there was no indication that he was annoyed by the question, and I honestly don’t believe that he was, but there was a tangible feeling of measuring in his regard. I’m convinced Edgar felt it too because he began to squirm a bit in his chair.

  “That’s a very good question,” Jake said. “A penetrating question. I suspect we’ll have to feel that out as we go. To some degree the people who live here will determine who is in charge. A man…or woman,” he nodded to me, “can stand up to proclaim themselves King all day long, yet it means nothing if they’re ignored by the subjects. People must consent to follow. You can dominate their choice, of course, but then, you’ll never truly be in charge. You certainly won’t be pretending for very long, either.”

  Edgar was quiet as he considered this. The statement was delivered in a friendly, offhand manner. I couldn’t help feeling as though there was a message buried underneath it, though I wasn’t sure who it might be intended for. Maybe all of us.

  “The intent is that this property be Our property,” Jake elaborated. “The Bowl, as Amanda calls it, will be the home of everyone. Our land, our responsibility, with each person holding an equal share. The only limitation I must set,” he looked down at the brim of his glass and rubbed it with a thumbnail, “is that this cabin remains a private residence. This isn’t a community center; this is the home Amanda and I fought for to protect. I don’t think we’re ready to turn it into a clubhouse. I feel as though it’s only fair to be clear on that point up front.”

  A few of the men nodded, though Edgar remained thoughtfully silent.

  Jake cleared his throat. “Everything else is open to carve up as seems best to you all, with the exception of a tree that I’ll show you all later.”

  “A tree?” Gibs asked.

  “Billy’s Tree,” I supplied.

  “Oh…understood.”

  “Can I refill your glass for you, Edgar?” Jake asked. He was smiling again.

  Edgar looked down at his glass, then back up at Jake sidelong from the corner of his eyes. “Thank you, but no. I should go slowly.”

  “What if we’re not interested?” Wang asked.

  “That’s fine,” Jake shrugged. “You’ll all still be welcome to spend the night, although we’ll have to insist that you make plans to leave in due course. We can’t afford to feed such a large group for very long if you won’t be staying, you see.”

  “How much food is on hand?” Gibs asked, looking up again.

  “That would be one of the first problems we’ll have to address if you do stay,” Jake said. “For three people, we’re good to get through the winter. Should you all decide to join us; there isn’t enough food to get through two months.”

  Gibs scoffed. “That’s a pretty big a-…uh, a big problem, wouldn’t you say?”

  “It is, and yet it’s still manageable. There was about six months’ worth of provisions when we first came here. Since then, we’ve managed to sock away an additional two. That’s with only one person scavenging on select days out of each week; we were also going out for other stuff like gas, tools, gear, and so on. On top of that, we’ve been eating from those stores while we’ve been adding to them. All that considered we’ve been here about four months with only one person ever gathering food for less than half that time, in a half-hearted fashion at that. With organized, motivated teams, I believe that those numbers could be drastically improved.”

  “He’s making good points,” George said. “Not all of us could go out,” he held up his cane in illustration, “but many could. We could get a lot done together.”

  “I’m not sure we want to just jump in with both feet here, guys,” Edgar interrupted.

  Gibs held his hands out. “Stop. Just hang on a second. Before we go any further, we’d all better go over this with the rest of the group.”

  “Of course,” Jake agreed. “An answer doesn’t have to happen immediately. We’ll make room for you all to sleep here tonight, obviously. If you decide to stay with us, we can see to more permanent solutions tomorrow.”

  Jake leaned forward, placed his glass on the low coffee table, and stood, signaling that the meeting or interview or whatever the hell it was that we just had was over. The rest of them placed their glasses on the table as well and began to shuffle from the room. Among them, Gibs stopped to turn and look at both of us. “Thanks. For the food and the drinks. I, uh… Just thanks.”

  Jake nodded and I said, “You’re welcome”, feeling like an ass for making such a stink about them showing up earlier. Gibs shut the door behind them as they stepped out onto the porch.

  “So what was all that business with the whiskey and the vodka?” I asked.

  Jake, who had settled back down into his chair, grunted softly but did not look up to return my gaze. With all of the people having left the room, he had quit smiling like a goofball all the time, reverting instead to a Jake smile; a tightening around his eyes and a raised eyebrow. They say you can spot an evil man because he’ll smile only with his mouth but not his eyes. Whether that’s true or not, Jake smiles only with his eyes when he’s being genuine.

  Instead of answering me, he instead asked, “What did you see, please?”

  I sat down on the couch across from Jake so I could look straight at him. “None of the right guys want to be in charge in that group, that’s what.”

  “Mmm,” Jake nodded. “That’s a good point. I was having a hard time pinpointing who to focus on but that makes things much clearer. Gibs is probably as close as it gets but did you see him when he recounted Denver? I believe he’s taken the reins only because he refuses to trust anyone else.”

  “Oh, trust issues? Do you think that will be a problem?”

  “Potentially, but not because he’s malicious. He’ll have a hard time living with himself after Kyle and Jessica; he’s considering civilian deaths his own personal fault.”

  “Civilian?” I said.

  “Yes, he’s still very much a Marine in his mind.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I picked my glass up off the table to give my hands something to do. Finally, I held it up and asked, “So, are you going to explain your big performance to me, or what?”

  He shrugged again. “Edgar gave me an opportunity, really. I took it.”

  “An opportunity for what?”

  Jake finally looked in my direction. He seemed tired. “To get a sense of who he is. He was a bit of a question mark before then.”

  I couldn’t even begin to figure out what Jake had discovered through his little act and lacked the energy to spend on it. “Fill me in.”

  “He’s a coward who has convinced himself that he’s brave. He’ll see to his own needs first. Unfortunately, the group is a package deal. He’ll need watching.”

  11 – The Sleepover

  Gibs

  After the meeting with Jake and Amanda, the four of us gathered everyone else together out by the food tables, which by then had been completely cleaned of any food. Not a scrap was left; everyone had made it a point to eat everything they could carry. I saw more than a few food blisters with guts pushing out past their
belts.

  The kids were perfectly happy to hang out on the porch so we left them alone, which was probably best anyway given our discussion. The exception here were the Page brothers (Greg and Alan); you could legitimately argue either that they were kids or adults based on any number of factors. They had both insisted on being included in our conversation, which cemented them as adults for me.

  George, Wang, Edgar, and I laid out the whole discussion for everyone else to consider in short order. I think we all did a pretty good job. Editorializing was kept to a minimum in favor of relaying solid facts. When we had finished, George, who was leaning against one of the tables, asked everyone what they thought.

  “It sounds pretty good to me, honestly,” said Fred. “I mean, I don’t know what the rest of ya’ll think, but I’m sick and tired of not having a place. First it was a damned grocery store and now we’re living on a school bus? The hell of it is I don’t even know which of those is worse.”

  “There isn’t actually a place for us to stay, here,” Monica said, looking around at everyone. “It’s a big valley, a single house, and a giant garage. You can bet they’re not putting all of us in the house. They gonna stick us in the garage or are we just on our own on the bus?”

  “Hell, put my ass in a tent for now. We can always put a roof up,” Fred replied. Oscar pointed in Fred’s direction and shot him a thumbs-up, which the much larger man returned with a nod.

  George laughed softly and said, “Well, they’ve already made it clear that we can stay here for the night. Whether we do or not, I think we all know we can survive another evening sleeping on the bus. We would have ended up doing that here or anywhere. As Fred suggests, though, this could be a place to build on.”