Joshua Gayou - Commune - The Complete Series - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Box Set (Books 1-4)

Jake looked up at the rest of us and said, “Would you all please excuse me for a moment? Please, there’s plenty of food to go around; you must eat and enjoy the evening.”

With a nod, he turned and followed after Amanda.

I sighed and spooned up another bite. Wang came over to my side and quietly asked, “What do you think all that was about?”

Through a mouthful, I asked, “You ever bring home a stray animal as a kid?”

“Kind of,” he said. “I caught a bullfrog once and wanted to keep it in an aquarium. My mom was pissed.”

“Well,” I shrugged, digging around on my paper plate, “I think Jake’s being told to take us back to the swamp and leave us there.”

“So, I’m wondering, Jake. Was this our place or just your place?”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked. For all of the things in him that I admired, his deadpan calm really used to drive me crazy. I could never tell if he was playing it safe, hiding his own emotions (in the last few months of living together, I had learned that emotions were certainly a thing that he possessed in his own strange, hidden way), or if he just really was as clueless as he sometimes seemed. It didn’t help at all that he always became more relaxed in response to me getting more worked up. It’s hard to explain but, sometimes, I would have been a lot happier with him shouting back.

“You heard what I said,” I shot at him.

He took a moment before responding: “This is our home, of course.”

“I see. Do you think you might have checked with me before you came home with an actual busload of strangers?”

“Ah. Well, it would have been hard to consult with you at the time; I was out there alone and had to make a snap decision.”

“No,” I scoffed. “No, you really didn’t. It never occurred to you to just have them wait out there while you came back to talk to me?”

He was quiet for much longer this time as he considered. “Honestly, it didn’t. I don’t know why.” He looked confused. Uncertain.

“I do,” I responded. “Jake, Lizzy and I both owe you a lot. You’ve done things for us—well, we’ve all done things for each other—that go beyond friends. We’re all family in a lot of ways. But you can be really, really inconsiderate sometimes, you know that?”

A pained expression settled onto his face, which sucked some of the fire out of me. It was hard for me to stay angry at him when he was like that. I had stopped being afraid of Jake some time ago, either because we just became familiar with each other’s behaviors and moods or because I simply understood that he would never do anything to hurt us. It was probably some combination of those things. Dealing with him could still be exhausting sometimes, though. Most times, it’s hard to know what you’re dealing with when you interact with Jake. Is he hard as nails and feels things only a little, or does he feel everything but put all of his energy into hiding it? I still haven’t decided what the answer to that question is for sure. When he got that expression on his face, though, I sometimes wondered if he was a little of what my mom used to call “touched…” what my generation would later describe as being “on the spectrum.”

It was nearly impossible for me to stay angry at times like this; it became more like kicking a puppy than having an argument. Maybe I was still just too used to Eddie. He and I used to get into some terrific arguments. We never took them too far or anything, but he and I both grew up with thick skin, so we could always unload. We could just get things off our chest and out into the open without having to worry about hurt feelings. It was really great how we worked together… and I have to admit the make-up sex was pretty awesome too.

My relationship with Jake was a complete opposite; it was either smooth sailing or eggshells for me. I could just never be sure if I was hurting him and doing real damage to both him and our friendship or if it was all just rolling off him. It could be very tiring.

I took a deep breath, all anger expended and replaced by a kind of exhausted regret. “Jake, you can’t make those kinds of decisions for us on your own. I understand that these things are important to you, but you have to remember that Lizzy and I are in this with you, too. Bringing people back here is a really big deal. I don’t think I need to remind you…” I trailed off, not wanting to complete the thought; it felt petty and hurtful.

He was nodding. “You’re… you’re absolutely right. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

I reached across the space between us (we sat in chairs facing each other in the library in front of the small fireplace; a place we usually went when we needed to discuss something serious and didn’t want Lizzy to overhear) and squeezed his shoulder, which had become noticeably thicker in our short time at the cabin.

“Forgiven,” I said. “Just keep it in mind, kay?”

He nodded again, staring into the cold ashes of the fire pit, falling deeper into his own private thoughts. Before he could go too far under, I asked, “So, what now?”

He looked back up to meet my gaze and asked, “Huh?”

“They’re here now. What do we do with them?”

He breathed in and blew air out through his lips. “Well honestly, I thought they’d be helpful around here. We could spread a lot of work out among ourselves.”

I started laughing despite myself. “Jake… there are sixteen of them! Who brings home sixteen people? Where are we going to put them all?”

“I’ll admit I haven’t solved that problem yet.”

“Well, we can’t stick them in the garage,” I said. “It’s getting down to the high 40’s in the evenings.”

“Not without space heaters, no,” he agreed. He looked up at me. “We should probably get some space heaters the next time we’re in town. Winter isn’t far away.”

“Okay,” I said, “Maybe that works for later. We have a problem right now, Jake.”

“Yeah, I know.” He spent a few moments looking back into the ash pit and then said, “You and Lizzy take the master tonight. We can cram two people into your bed and another two into the guest room, which covers four. We can jam another six into the bunks in Lizzy’s room.”

“Right, that’s ten people,” I said. What will you do with the other seven, including yourself?”

“We have a few sleeping bags; we can spread the rest out over the couches and floor. I don’t have any problem sleeping in the easy chair; I end up falling asleep there most nights, anyway.”

“This is gonna be so crowded. Nineteen people and just three bathrooms. I’m not sure the septic tank can take it.”

“It’s just for the night… maybe tomorrow as well,” he assured me. “We can get this figured out. Hey, look, we haven’t even discussed this with them, yet. We might offer and have them tell us ‘thanks but no thanks.’”

“We’ll see.” I was unconvinced. “So what about the food?”

“Food?”

I rolled my eyes. “Uh, yeah? What did we say we have right now? Eight months of food to pull us through the winter, right?”

“Yeah, eight months plus maybe a bit extra before we should start growing our own.”

“That’s eight months for three people. Or…” I did some math in my head, “…twenty four months for one person. What’s twenty-four divided by nineteen?”

“I… ah,” he muttered.

“Exactly. We’re suddenly down to less than a month and a half of food,” I said. “What’s the plan for that?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “There are a lot more of us, though, if they decide to stay. We can scavenge a lot more at a much faster rate.”