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

She very kindly kept from commenting on the situation or looking below my chest but she also didn’t bother hiding a smile as she said, “Well, you need to help set the tables up outside and drag the burner out to start.”

I let everything drop and looked for some better place to put my hands, placing them on my hips first and then deciding that crossing my arms in front of me was better.

“’Scuse me. Yeah, I can do that. I’ll just get some shoes on and get at it.”

“Wash your hands first, okay?” she giggled, and both Gibs and Tom started rolling again. “I’ll go grab you guys a few things.”

She walked out of the room and that asshole Tom called out after her, “Yeah, I think we’ve grabbed enough things of our own, thanks!” That one even made me laugh.

I shot Tom a “Dick…” and dug my shoes out from under the corner of my mattress after I pulled the plug to let all the air out. I folded the thing up as tight as I could get it (they never get as tight as they were when you first opened the box) and slid it under the table before sitting down in a chair to put my shoes on. Standing up and yawning, I stretched one last time, loving the ability to do it right, and started walking towards the door in that tired, early morning slide-step you do when you’re still trying to get your day going.

“Oh, damn, are you going outside like that?” asked Gibs.

“Ain’t got anything that’ll fit me except my jeans from before, and I can’t bring myself to put them on now that I’m clean.”

“Huh. Good point. We’ll look into getting you squared away. There has to be some sort of Big Ass Hombre clothing store around town.”

“Appreciate it,” I said and went through the front door.

Once outside, I stepped off the porch and walked around to the side of the house where I’d stacked the tables from the night before, grabbed one in each hand, and walked them back out to where I’d first seen them set up last night. I got them positioned and was just about to go looking for the propane camping grill when I heard the unmistakable sound of metal barbell plates clanging together coming from the direction of the garage. I noticed then that the roll-up door was open; I walked toward it to see what was up.

When the opening came into view, I saw for the first time just how big that garage really was. It’ll fool you at first because it’s hard to see how far back it goes from all the trees wrapped around it; when you see inside, you see all the way back. That building is deep and tall. All us folks could have probably lived in there if it hadn’t been full of a bunch of shit already. There was a large Ford off to the side and what looked like a whole garage shop deep in the back. The floor around the center was stacked full of piles of what looked to me like all the food in the world, although we found out later that it wasn’t nearly as much as we would have liked. Along the right wall, I saw Jake standing with his hands on his hips staring intently at Wang, who had a barbell up on his shoulders loaded with what looked like some decent warm-up weight for his size. He took a deep breath, squatted down low, and came up again, slowing down only a little at the midpoint. Jake helped him walk it back into the rack after that. I waited until Wang had the weight off his back before saying anything.

“Looking good, there, young man!” I called as I walked in to join them.

Wang looked at me and smiled but said nothing; he was breathing heavy and sweating.

“I was just teaching him how to squat. He’s actually pretty good; it didn’t take long at all for him to get the movement pattern down,” said Jake.

“Yeah, I saw,” I agreed. “Straight bar path and the plates didn’t spin on the way up.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “Are you a lifter?”

“Not so much anymore. I played ball in high school—defensive tackle—so I know my way around a barbell.”

“Oh, nice,” Jake said. “Well, the rack is here, and you’re welcome to it any time. I recommend everyone use it if they can.”

“Thanks but I’d better get this clothing situation taken care of first. I’m indecent enough already without squatting down and sticking my ass out,” I said.

Jake nodded. “Yes, there is that. I’m going to head out today and start looking for long term shelter solutions for you guys; I’ll keep my eye out for some clothing for you. What’s your size in pants?”

“Forty-inch waist, thirty-four-inch length.”

He blinked for a minute and then said, “Well… we’ll see what’s out there.”

“You think that’s bad? Try keeping him fed. It’s like trying to bury a Buick in sand with a teaspoon,” said Wang.

I started laughing and slapped my gut, which was a lot smaller these days than I was used to it being. “On second thought, better make that a thirty-eight-inch waist. I’m not as thick as I once was.”

“Very well,” Jake agreed.

“Hey, listen,” I said, “where did you guys stash the grill? Amanda asked me to set it up so we can get some breakfast going.”

“It’s in a closet in the house. Come on with me, and I’ll show you.”

“Hey, I’m going to stay here and do some more,” said Wang.

“Nope,” Jake said. “You got your three sets of five. Don’t overdo it or you’ll screw everything up.”

“Screw what up? You mean I’ll hurt myself?”

“No, no. I have a book that explains all of this. I’ll show you. It covers everything.”

Jake led us both back to the house and dug the grill out from the closet under the stairs for me and then took Wang back to the library. Amanda was back in the dining area, now, talking to Gibs. I could see that she had laid out a whole selection of plastic cups, toothbrushes, and toothpaste for everyone on the table. My mouth hung open at the sight of this, and I almost dropped the grill at my feet to go grab one of each and put it all to use. With our recent water shortage and lack of supplies, caring for our teeth had been reduced mainly to rubbing over them with a corner of our shirts, which were already nasty as hell. Clean toothbrushes and full tubes of toothpaste looked like a stack of gold to me.

Amanda came over to me with a big bag of Krusteaz pancake mix under one arm and a gallon jug of water in the other. “You get the tables out?” she asked.

I said I had and she nodded at me all businesslike. She called back behind herself as she stepped around me, “Bring the skillet and that other stuff when you can, Gibs, okay?”

“Roger,” he said from the back.

She had the door propped open and was waiting for me. I sighed and made a note to come back for a toothbrush as soon as I could get away. We both went outside and started laying everything out at the table. As soon as she put her stuff down, she turned and ran back to the house.

Amanda’s like that. She’s always rushing everywhere, like Gibs, except Gibs refuses to run unless there’s some sort of life or death situation. Gibs just walks twice as fast as everyone else. Amanda jogs or runs, though. It’s funny for me to watch her when she works with Jake, who never rushes anything. The more time he takes, the more carefully he moves, the more agitated and twitchy she gets. She doesn’t seem to get mad behind it; I think it might be unconscious. It sure is funny as hell to watch, though.

She had already returned with plates, forks, and syrup when I was just finishing with getting the mini-propane tank screwed on. Gibs came stomping out behind her carrying a big iron skillet along with a plastic bowl containing a bottle of oil, a big wooden spoon, and a spatula.

Other folks started to emerge from the house as she bustled around the table laying things out and called their good-mornings to us from the porch. Amanda thrust a bowl full of watered pancake mix into my hands, passed me the wooden spoon, and said, “If you get going on that I’ll go grab us some new potatoes.” That sounded fine to me, and I went to work.