Hamsikker 2 (3 page)

Javier sat down on a plush leather chair and unfurled a large map of the US across a desk. He placed a finger over it and looked at Jonas.

“Here’s where we are.” Javier looked up at Jonas to make sure he had his attention. “And here’s where I need to be.”

Jonas watched as Javier drew his finger north, up through Illinois, and Wisconsin, before resting over Winnipeg.

“This is the last place my brother was living. He was moving there from Thunder Bay last I heard. I can’t stay here forever with Mara, wondering how he is. I need to know. I
need
to get up there and find out.”

Jonas waited for Gabe to continue, but the room was filled with silence. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond; whether Gabe was looking for reassurance or information. He had no intention of telling Gabe that Janey lived in Thunder Bay. He wasn’t sure yet if it was a good idea to part with that information. “I thought you had settled in here for the long-run,” Jonas said. “You said yourself there’s enough food to last for months.”

“Water too,” said Javier. “The irrigation system is working perfectly. We have clean water, power, heating, and fresh vegetables. It’s quite safe too. It would take a hundred zombies to get through that fence out there.”

“So…” Jonas looked at the map. He was going to be taking a very similar route north, and now the caffeine had worked its way into his system, Jonas was feeling more alert. His brain was already thinking about what lay ahead, about Dakota and the baby, about where he was heading, and how he was going to find Janey.

“So, what do you say you and me take a road trip?” asked Javier as he reclined in his chair. The black leather squeaked as he settled into it. “Mara can take care of this place with the help of the others for a few days. There are plenty of vehicles out front we can take our pick from. They’re fully tanked up, and ready to go. I was thinking that maybe you and Erik might accompany me?”

“Why do you need us?” Jonas couldn’t help but wonder. Why now? If he didn’t want Mara out there with him, then Gabe could just as easily go on his own.

Javier looked at Jonas. The moment that Rose had killed Gabe, things had changed. Javier wanted her more than anything, but she was a liability. He couldn’t rely on her anymore. The events of the crash had come back to him, and he’d realized Rose would’ve left him out there on the roadside to die like Cindy. He needed to change the direction his life was going, and get back on track. Rose had been holding him back. It was time to cut her free. If she wanted to set up home, she could do so without him. Over the last couple of days they had recovered from the crash, eaten and slept well, and yet Rose refused to entertain the idea of leaving and continuing on to Canada. The fences around the golf course seemed secure, and they hadn’t seen a single zombie inside, but he really had no idea how secure the place was long-term. Fate had thrown him a bone. Going it alone was an option, but it was more useful to have someone watch his back. When he had seen Erik and the others surface through the storm drain, he had decided to let them in. Rose wanted a little fun, and when she had spotted Freya she had practically forced Javier to go along with her plan, not that there had been much time for discussion. By assuming the identities of Gabe and Mara, Javier thought they could find out what the new group of people might offer. Javier knew Rose only really wanted the girl. But there was something about Erik and Jonas that appealed to him. They had been through a lot out there, probably more than he could imagine. They were fighters. If he could get them on side, they could be useful - to a point.

Javier hadn’t told Rose about going solo, about leaving her behind, but he would sell it as only a temporary thing. He would tell her that he’d be gone just long enough to find his brother, and then he would be back. Of course, he had no intention of coming back. With Gabe’s identity hanging around his neck, he didn’t want to return to it once he was able to shake it off. No way was he going to pretend to be some worthless security guard any longer than he had to. Once he reached the Canadian border, with Erik and Jonas’s help, he could shed it, rid himself of this new identity and rid himself of anyone who thought he was Gabe. He wanted to become Javier again. Gabe would die, and so would Gabe’s associates.

“I could do with some help out there on the road,” said Javier. “You know how difficult it is out there with the dead roaming around. If I give you a couple of days to rest up, perhaps you could talk to Erik, and we could get this done quickly. I just need to get my brother, and then we’ll be straight back.” Javier didn’t know exactly where his brother was. Diego had shacked up with some girl in Lorette, just outside of Winnipeg, and Javier had no reason to believe Diego had moved on. He had been working in Thunder Bay, and been spending a lot of time between the two places. All Javier knew was that he had to find him.

“I’m not so sure,” said Jonas. He was thinking about Janey. He was thinking that maybe he could use Javier to get to Canada too. Still, he would be hard pressed to convince Erik that leaving again so soon was a good idea. “I think you’d be better off on your own. My wife is pregnant, and I’m not sure going out again so soon is a good move.”

Javier sighed. “Hamsikker, I thought you would understand. I’m offering you a chance here. This isn’t for you, or me, but for your family. This is a chance for everyone. If you do this for me, then I see no reason why we can’t all stay here. You know how good this place is.”

The inference was clear to Jonas. If he didn’t help Gabe, the offer to stay was gone. Jonas needed this place for Dakota, for his child; turning down the offer to head north to Canada would undoubtedly lead to trouble. Perhaps he could go with Javier alone and leave Erik behind to look out for everyone.

“Just me,” said Jonas. “I’ll go with you, and once we find your brother, we’re coming straight back. I’ve a sister, Janey, up in Canada. Maybe I could try to contact her when we’re there. I won’t take up any of your time though. We get what we want, and then we head on back here, agreed?” Jonas decided that once they reached the border he would split up and go to get Janey on his own. He didn’t want to waste time searching for Gabe’s brother. They would have to meet back at Saint Paul’s independently. Jonas didn’t know how much he could trust Gabe, so he wanted to keep the fact that Janey lived in Thunder Bay to himself.

Javier stood up and held out his hand. Hamsikker’s sister held no interest for him. The woman was just another zombie. Still, at least Hamsikker was on board now. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep this just between us. Mara’s got a lot on her plate, and I’d rather not have her worry about me going out there again. You know, I think we’re going to get on like a house on fire, Hamsikker,” said Javier, grinning as they shook. “To the future.”

CHAPTER TWO

“I miss music. I played the cello. Not professionally, but I was good. The sound of it used to give me shivers. Have you heard much classical music? When you hear the cello you can’t help but fall in love. The sound it makes is so rich and sorrowful. Honestly, it’s like a piece of me is missing. I doubt I’ll ever get another chance to play again.”

Jonas never would’ve guessed Mara to be musical. Not that there was a type, but he was surprised at her honesty, for opening up to him. She had taken him and Erik outside after breakfast so she could show them around whilst Gabe busied himself in the kitchen. She cooked and he washed, that was the deal. Everyone else was washing up, trying to get themselves clean again. The bloodstains were difficult to scrub from their clothes, but at least their bodies were clean at last.

“You might. This can’t go on forever. I bet one day you’ll get to play again. I’d like to hear you. Are there any pieces of music you really like? Any favorite composers?”

Mara shook her head and looked away. “No, I didn’t have any one favorite. It was just a hobby.”

“My Peter tried the guitar for a while,” said Erik as they walked across to the storm drain. “Freaking useless. I had high hopes he would be the next Springsteen. Turns out he wasn’t. Not even close. He has many talents, but music is not one of them. Takes after his father, I guess.”

“You don’t like music?” asked Mara. They reached the edge of the garden, and she bent down to pick at some weeds.

“Sure, I do. More your old school rock like Springsteen or Hendrix. I didn’t get much time for it with the day job anyway. Work and kids soon put paid to any free time I had. I think the last CD I bought was some fluffy pop stuff for Freya.”

“A CD? What, had they sold out of old 45’s? Erik, I doubt Freya even knows what a CD is. Nobody
buys
music anymore,” said Jonas.

“Nobody buys much of anything anymore,” said Erik wistfully.

“What did you used to do?” Mara asked Erik. She looked him up and down. “Laborer? Something like that?”

“He was a cop,” said Jonas. “A damn good one at that too.”

“Oh, right,” said Mara bluntly.

Jonas thought he picked up on something in her tone, something that suggested she wasn’t too comfortable around a cop, but he dismissed it. Most people felt nervous around a cop, even if they had nothing to hide. Quinn had been like that, too, at first.

Mara cleared her throat. “That’s the tool shed over there,” she said, pointing to a large brown building. It had a door at either end with heavy looking padlocks and dirty, dark windows. “It’s full of crap. There are a lot of hand tools, some gardening equipment, and a couple of ride-on lawnmowers. We used them to keep the course in shape, but we don’t tend to bother much anymore. It’s just a waste of gas, and there doesn’t seem much point really.”

“What’s that?” asked Jonas pointing to a smaller shed. It was painted a lurid white color, with ivy growing up the walls and clinging to the tin roof.

“Nothing of use, unless you plan on televising the end of the world. The media crew stored their gear in it. You can see the top of the TV tower from here. Gabe goes up there sometimes to look around, make sure the dead aren’t getting too close. You can smell them sometimes. It’s the smell of death. It just comes over the fence, and you know they’re there. You can’t see them, but they’re there. They’re always there.” Mara shuddered. “Look, you’re welcome to have a walk around the course, but I should go find Gabe. We have a lot to sort out today.”

“For sure,” said Erik. “We’ll take a look around and come help you later.”

Mara nodded and smiled, but Jonas felt as if it wasn’t sincere. Perhaps her encounter with the two drifters a couple of days back had her on edge, wary of strangers. It was understandable.

“I’m going to take a shower, Hamsikker. I’ll see you later.” Mara looked at Jonas as she left. He wasn’t certain, but she definitely hadn’t been comfortable since finding out Erik was a cop.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say she has the hots for you,” said Erik.

“That your expert opinion?”

Erik shrugged. “Just thought I picked up on something. Something feels a little different about her. I don’t know.”

“They seem fine, but we just have to be careful. They must be nervous having a bunch of strangers crashing their private party.”

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten they took our weapons too. I’ll have a word with Gabe about that later. I’d feel a lot better if I knew where they were,” said Erik. “Just in case.”

Both of them started walking toward the TV tower, away from the clubhouse. Jonas was contemplating climbing it and taking a look over the fence. Would it make him feel any better knowing the dead were gathered there instead of just thinking they were? He decided it could wait. There was a lot to plan, and he needed to go and talk to Dakota. As they walked, Erik began humming a tune.

“What is that?” asked Jonas. “That song you’re so badly humming. I think I know it.”

“Oh, just a little something by the Boss. I took Pippa to see him last year. Man, he rocked.” Erik smiled and continued humming.

“Wonder what he’s up to now,” mused Jonas. “You think he’s a bad-ass zombie killer or six feet under?”

“Ain’t no question, Hamsikker. Springsteen is out there somewhere kicking some mother-fucking zombies back to mother-fucking hell.”

Jonas laughed, and Erik joined in.

“Shit, I remember listening to Springsteen when we were back in high school. He has longevity, I’ll give him that.”

Erik nodded as their laughter died down. “What about Slash?”

“You need to ask? Please,” said Jonas. “Zombie-killer all day long.”

Erik clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue while he thought. “Okay, I’ll go with that. How about the piano-man?”

“Billy? He’s toast.” Jonas raised his hands in the air and shrugged. “Don’t blame me, I didn’t waste him.”

“The Dixies?” asked Erik. “Those country chicks know how to handle themselves.”

“Dead.”

“Taylor?”

“Deader.”

“Kenny?”

“Even deader. Don’t you watch the news, Erik? He went before this whole thing started. Shit, he’s probably back shuffling around looking for Dolly so he can take a nasty chunk out of her neck.”

Jonas clacked his teeth together and stretched his arms out, mimicking taking a bite out of something. “I can see it now, his eyes all glazed over and his tongue hanging out while Dolly bats him away, still trying to apply some lipstick before he severs her jugular vein.”

“Ha.” Erik laughed. “I guess the gambler lost in the end. What about all those action heroes? Remember those films we used to love? You ever think what they might be doing now?”

Jonas drew in a breath. “Well, Arnold and Sly undoubtedly are dead. I mean, come on, what are they going to do, defend themselves with their pensions?”

“Oh, tough call,” said Erik. “You know, I like to think John McClane is out there, picking off the bad guys, still kicking butt for us.”

“You know who is still kicking butt?” asked Jonas.

“Who?”

“Bruce. He’s fought off an army of the dead already. This is a walk in the park for him.”

“Bruce is indestructible, I’ll give you that. So who would win in a fight? Ash or McClane?”

“Seriously?” Jonas rubbed his jaw. “No. There’s no way they would fight each other. More likely they would join forces. Imagine that, the two of them side by side armed with a chainsaw and a magnum.”

“Yippee-kay-ay,” said Erik.

The two men laughed some more, and Jonas noticed the air was cooling as they talked. At one point Pippa came out to check on them, saying that Peter and Freya were having a wash, and she suggested Erik do the same. He shooed her back inside, promising that he was fine, and that they would wash later. It seemed like they finally had a chance to relax. Back when they were hiding in Erik’s place, there was no time for idle chatter or friendly reminiscing. It had been about survival back then. Jonas knew their future was uncertain, that this peace probably wouldn’t last forever, but he wanted to enjoy it while he could. For all their talk, they never covered anything serious, and Jonas knew he was going to have to bring it up. There was one thing eating away at him, and the sky was threatening rain. If he didn’t speak honestly with Erik now, he might not get time later. They reached a bunker, and Jonas sat down on the grass, inviting Erik to join him.

“So what is it? You’re about as hard to read as Freya’s pop-up books. I can tell you’ve something on your mind, so get on with it.”

“You’re too smart to be a cop, you know that?” Jonas sighed. “I just don’t know. It’s hard to decide what’s right and wrong anymore. I thought life was simple, but now…I’ve killed people Erik.

“We all have, Hamsikker.”

“No, not like you mean.”

Erik frowned.

“Back in Jeffersontown,” explained Jonas. “At the garage, when we were ambushed. Anna, Mary, and James were killed by the zombies, but Cliff…”

“What about him?”

Jonas looked down. He had to get it out, but he didn’t want to see Erik’s face when he told him. As much as he felt guilty for killing Cliff, he felt just as ashamed for letting his friend down. He didn’t want Erik to hate him or think less of him, but Jonas hated himself for what he’d done. He had to let it go, otherwise it would just eat him up.

“I killed him,” said Jonas. As soon as the words were out of his head he couldn’t stop, and the rest came rushing out in a torrent of relief. “I was so mad. I was so
fucking
mad at him for setting us up like that. All I could feel was this anger building up inside of me. Then I saw his smug face as he stood over Mary’s body. He wasn’t sorry for what he did, not one bit. So, I beat him. I beat on him until Tyler pulled me off. I wanted to beat Cliff’s face in until he was broken. When his face was smashed in, I took Tyler’s gun, and I was going to put a bullet in his brain. I thought I’d better save the bullets though, so I took my axe and…  

“Jesus Christ, I killed him, Erik. I mean he was messed up, but he could’ve lived. He could be with us now. What’s been going on since then, well, it screwed me up. That wasn’t me. My head was all over the place. You know that, right? At the garage, the things I saw, what happened there, just…”

Jonas remembered his father’s body and how it had climbed out of the casket at the funeral. His father had been put down, too, except he was already dead. There was a difference. There was a big difference between taking down a zombie, and killing a man in cold-blood. Jonas wasn’t sure he would ever forget it. Somehow he had to forgive himself, though. He had to find a way to move on.

“Get over it, Hamsikker,” said Erik plainly. He drew in a deep breath before continuing. “Cliff was a liability from day one. You had to make the call, I understand that. I don’t know if I would’ve done what you did, but you did it, and I’m in no place to pass judgment on you. Only He can do that, and He’ll wait until he’s good and ready. I for one am pleased you’re around.”

“That’s it?” asked Jonas, unsure if Erik was just waiting to argue, waiting to pull him up and castigate him for cold-blooded murder. “I’m not proud of what I did, you know. I still see Cliff in my dreams. I can picture myself kneeling over him, pounding my fists into his face over and over and over. I see his eyes closing and his nose breaking. I can feel his teeth rattling in his head, and the feel of his skull as it smacked back against the concrete.”

There were so many things Jonas wished he could change, but he couldn’t. He wished he had bought the velvet-lined coffin for his father. He was starting to realize that, starting to accept that he couldn’t control everything. After Cliff had died, he had wanted to take charge of everything. He’d lost his mind for a while there, and now that he was back he was determined not to mess up again. The only way he could start afresh was to be honest, with not just the others, but himself too.

“I don’t think I could do that again,” said Jonas. “Killing a man is easy in that second right before you pull the trigger. It’s the easiest thing in the world, but afterwards? There’s no law now. There’s no clear path anymore. What is justice these days? Without Dakota, I…”

Erik pulled a slim piece of licorice out of his pocket and examined it. “This is my last one. I was trying to save it, but seems like I may as well light it up now.” He tugged at the end and plucked a piece off. As he chewed on it, he offered a piece to Jonas.

“No, thanks.”

“Right and wrong? That’ll depend on who you ask. Pippa and I chose a path a few years back. We follow Him and are thankful that we have Him to guide us. We have our prayers, our children, and that is all. I can’t say if you should do the same, that’s up to you, man, but it works for us. As for Cliff – forget about it. I don’t see the need to spill any tears over him, and I sure don’t see the need to tell anyone else about this. We’ve all seen and done some crazy shit. I’d never let anyone get in the way of getting my family to safety, and I know you’re the same, Hamsikker. If you hadn’t stopped Cliff who’s to say where it would’ve ended? With him getting more of us killed, probably. What’s done is done.”

Jonas leant back and looked out at the golf course illuminated by the dim light. It was serene and quiet, a world away from what lay beyond the fences. “I could do with a cigarette.”