The Lost Gods (15 page)

“Yeah,” answer Jesse, and his voice wavered a bit, “He, uh, he went at one of those things barehanded.”

“One of the zombies?” asked Blake with genuine co
ncern in his voice.

“No, one of the screaming ones.”

“Ah, shit.”

“Yeah, he gave it his all, but — yeah.”

“I'm sorry, man.”

“Yeah.”

They sat there in awkward silence for a time. Neither one tried to break the solemn quiet. Blake waited for Jesse to compose himself. Loss was a concept that everyone still alive understood.

“I've got some vodka in my bag,” said Jesse.

“Ah shit, now we're talking.”

“I meant for my face.”

“Like fuck we're going to use it for that,” said Blake and he punched Jesse lightly in the chest. “We've got hydrogen peroxide for that. Let's get liquored up.”

“All right, why not? But I'm going to need that h
ydrogen peroxide first.”

“Yeah, I'll get it, but you should stay here. Wait until Hurricane Danielle gets downgraded to a tropical storm.”

Blake left and entered the keep.

Danielle and Nathan were still arguing. They were both standing with their arms crossed.

“He's not getting one bit of our food,” said Danielle.

“I'm not even going to offer him food,” said Nathan. “You aren't listening to a word I'm saying. What I am getting at is that we aren't safe here. Those things could fight. They tackled him like they were football players. Do you get that? What's to say that they can't climb?”

“Climbing zombies? Are you fucking serious?”

“You scoff, these things looked different. They acted different. If just one of those things gets over the wall when we aren't prepared, then — well, what then?”

“It's not going to happen!”

“How do you know?”

“We built that wall strong, and the keep is just as strong.”

“Yes, and it has done a great job so far. But, it did a great job against a bunch of mindless zombies. These screaming things are different. They're ferocious.”

“It looked like you handled them pretty well.”

“Sure, but this time we heard them coming. Plus we outnumbered them. What's going to happen when it's the dead of night and we have no warning? What's g
oing to happen if twenty of them show up?”

“That's a lot of assumptions.”

“All it takes is one big mistake, and all of this is over.”

“Don't say that.”

“It's true.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“We let him stay the night,” said Nathan. He set his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll ask him what he knows about these things.”

“Fine,” said Danielle as she looked up into Nathan's eyes, “but he leaves in the morning, OK?”

“Sure,” said Nathan. He hugged her and kissed her forehead.

Nathan locked eyes with Jesse from across the cour
tyard. He raised his hand to acknowledge Jesse. Jesse did the same and stood. Nathan crossed the courtyard. Jesse did not feel comfortable enough to walk freely, so he stayed put.

“How's your face?” asked Nathan. He pointed at Jesse's scratches and raised his eyebrows with concern.

“I think it'll hurt more later on,” answer Jesse. “I've still got a lot of adrenaline pumping through my veins.”

“Be thankful for that. Where's Blake?”

“He's getting hydrogen peroxide.”

“Ah. Good. Whatcha got there?” Nathan asked poin
ting toward the jug in Jesse's right hand.

“Vodka. The cheap shit,” said Jesse. He held up the jug. Nathan reached for it, and Jesse drew it back. N
athan raised his eyebrows, snapped his fingers, and then pointed to the jug.

“Consider this rent.”

“Deal,” said Jesse handing him the jug. Nathan twisted off the top and took a few gulps. He coughed and grimaced.

“Goddamn, it tastes like paint thinner.”

“I said it was cheap.”

“You weren't hardly bullshitting.”

“Nope.”

Nathan handed the vodka to Jesse. Jesse
took a pull. The vodka burned and tasted awful. He coughed and gagged. Nathan laughed and waved for the jug again. Jesse handed it over and Nathan took another drink. When Nathan tried to pass it back, Jesse raised his hands and waved it away.

“Fine, more for us.”

“Take all you want. I don't have the stomach for it.”

“A man of refinement.”

“Something like that.”

“Blake! Tim! Danielle!” bellowed Nathan. He had a deep, powerful voice
that carried. Blake came out of the keep with a first aid kit, hydrogen peroxide, and an ear of corn in hand. Danielle came over and sat down on the bench. Tim looked down from the wall. Nathan motioned for Tim to come down.

“What is it?” Tim yelled down.

“Booze!” Nathan responded.

“Oh, shit!” Tim said and hurried down. Jesse felt like he had just won over the whole group with a simple ge
sture. Blake opened the hydrogen peroxide and took a bag of cotton balls out of a small first aid kit he had fetched from inside the keep.

“You sure you don't want to drink a little more vo
dka?” asked Nathan.

“Nah.”

“That shit is gonna hurt. Blake's good with first aid stuff, but those gashes on your face are deep.”

“Yeah,” said Jesse and he took off his shirt revealing the shallow scratches on his shoulders and forearms. “I've got some on my arms too.”

“Christ!” said Danielle. She stared at his wounds for a moment, but her gaze stayed fixed on his chest. When Jesse raised his eyebrow, she coughed and turned away.

“I’ll throw some more logs on the fire,” she said.

“Next time,” said Blake, “you might want to consider getting your ass kicked a little less. Have you heard of dodging? It’s all the rage with people that aren’t dead yet.”

Blake smiled with his teeth, but Jesse could tell that Blake did not really find the situation funny. He soaked a small clump of cotton balls. He dabbed away at the scratches on Jesse’s body, but he paused before touched the gashes on Jesse's face.

“Last chance to change your mind about drinking more vodka.”

“Go ahead,” said Jesse and he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. The peroxide sizzled and bubbled as Blake dabbed it across the gashes on Jesse's cheek and neck. Jesse's muscles tensed and he began to take in deep breaths.

“Tough fucker, huh?” said Blake.

“Something like that,” Jesse said through his teeth. The others sat back and watched as Blake cleaned Jesse's wounds. Nathan took a long pull of the vodka, grimaced, and passed it to Danielle. She took a gulp, coughed, and took another.

“Save some for me, guys,” said Tim.

“There's plenty,” said Nathan and tapped Danielle on the shoulder. Danielle hugged the bottle.

“No, mine!” she joked in a childish tone before she passed the jug to Tim. Tim chugged the vodka for a moment and let out a hoot when he finished.

“Goddamn! This shit is awful. Got any more, random guy?”

“His name’s Jesse,” said Nathan.

“Ah. Got any more, random guy named Jesse?”

“Idiot,” said Danielle.

“No, it's cool guys,” Blake said as he cleaned the wounds on Jesse's cheek. “No need to save any for me. Greedy fuckers.”

“You'll get yours,” said Nathan. Tim gave Nathan the jug and Nathan set it on the grass. Blake finished with the cleaning and looked at Jesse's wounds.

“I hope you like scars because there isn't much chance that those gashes won't leave a mark.”

“It's all right, thanks,” said Jesse. He carefully slid his shirt back on. “I won't be entering into any beauty pageants anytime soon.”

Jesse looked into the small bag that Blake brought and pulled out a roll of gauze. Blake shook his head.

“Can't bandage it.”

“Why not?”

“It might get infected if you do. Just let it air out for a bit. In the morning, we can put a bandage on it if it doesn't look infected.”

“And if it does look infected?”

“Then you’ll probably die horribly,” Blake said and he zipped up the bag. “Unless you can find some antibiotics before you go septic.”

Jesse nodded and ripped the sleeves off of his jacket and shirt. They were shredded, and he wanted to give the wounds a chance to breathe. Jesse was a mess. His cheek and nose sported huge gashes, and he had a h
ematoma forming on his forehead from his fight with the screaming creatures. Deep gashes lined his arms, and his jacket looked like it belonged to a homeless street fighter.

“So,” Tim said, “you said you came from Washin
gton?”

“Yeah, Silverdale.”

“I'm not familiar with that town,” said Tim. He gestured at the vodka. Blake passed the jug to him.

“Most people from Washington aren't familiar with it either,” said Jesse.

“You understand our distrust when we don't believe you, right?” asked Nathan. His eyebrows were raised and his lips were closed. Jesse kept eye contact, but he gathered that most men would turn away from Nathan's intense stare. He was an imposing man, but Jesse felt like he could take Nathan if he was unarmed.

“It doesn't matter if you believe me,” said Jesse mai
ntaining eye contact all the while. “I'm here now. My kayak is shored up on the beach down the highway a ways, if you're really interested in proof you can check there. I'm obviously not from around here.”

“Guys,” said Blake, trying to insert himself into the mix. Nathan shot Blake a sideways glance and raised a finger on his right hand.

“How?” asked Nathan. He raised both his hands in a shrug, “How could you possibly have made it this far? That's fucking insane.”

Blood rushed to Jesse's face, making it hot, and his hands began to tremble.

“I rowed. I rowed until I couldn't stand it anymore. I just — kept going. It's not like I didn't have enough free time to get here. There's nothing else to do. I don't know if you noticed, but there hasn't been much on TV and my favorite authors haven't produced any work recently. But what difference does it make? I was there, and now I'm here. Both of the towns are dead, and, from what I could tell, every single town in between. The whole goddamn world has been torn to shit. It's lost. So, now I'm here. My arms still hurt from all the rowing, and I'm fucking tired.”

“All right, all right,” Blake said. “Let's slow our colle
ctive rolls.”

Nathan did not react. He just nodded once. Tim had an awkward, goofy smile on his face, and Danielle stared off into the distance.

“One more question,” said Nathan, “why'd you go south?”

Jesse remained silent for a moment and kept eye co
ntact with Nathan. After a moment that was probably more uncomfortable for Tim and Blake than it was for Jesse and Nathan, Jesse looked off to his right.

“That's where the geese go, right?”

Nathan stood and looked down at Jesse.

“You can stay here for the night. You can have some berries in trade for the booze, but in the morning, you'd best be on your way.”

“All right. Your house. Your rules.”

“Yeah,” said Nathan. He waved at Danielle. She got up and took his hand and they walked into the keep. Tim and Blake passed the vodka back and forth, each taking two gulps at a time —coughing in between swa
llows. Tim looked at Jesse for a moment. Jesse turned toward him. Tim was an ugly man. He had an unfortunate face: asymmetrical, ears that made his head look like a Volkswagen with the car doors open, a turned-up nose, and crooked teeth. Above his thin lips was a sleazy mustache. Acne scars textured his pale skin. Tim's brown eyes went lazy and his face was flush. He could not seem to sit still and he teetered in a slow and awkward circle.

“You want some?” asked Tim.

“Some what?” asked Jesse.

“Booze, what else?” slurred Tim. “You think I've got hamburgers hidin' away or some shit?”

“Sorry, I'm off in my own world.”

“So?” said Tim motioning toward the jug, “Want some?”

“Fine.”

Tim held out the bottle, losing his balance mome
ntarily as he did. Jesse snatched the bottle before Tim dropped it. Tim laughed hard, overcorrected his posture, and lurched backwards so hard that he fell on his back. Blake howled and fell over laughing.

“Yer drunk,” said Blake.

“No, yer drunk,” said Tim still laughing.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” said Blake. Tim kept laughing. Jesse took a drink, gagged a bit, and coughed.

“God, I hate this shit.”

“The only thing I hate more than cheap booze is no booze,” said Blake. “That and my off-nights.”

“Isn't every night an off-night nowadays?”

“No, man. We've got a schedule worked out with Danielle. It's an arrangement we all made together. She and Nathan were an item before, but we all agreed that if we were going to stay together that we had to, you know, come to an agreement.”