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

“Oscar, I need you to put that hammer down and let him go. Right now,” I said. I was secretly relieved when my voice didn’t shake.

Rather than arguing or trying to plead his case, he complied immediately and backed away a few steps, leaving a panting, sobbing Jeff in a heap up against the small stack of logs that we’d managed to collect for my cabin so far. I lowered my pistol as soon as he moved back but did not holster it; his eyes were drawn to it in my hand, and he understood.

“Ain’t like you think, Amanda,” Fred rumbled in a cold voice.

“Just hang on, please, Fred. Oscar, I need you to tell me what the hell is going on.”

He jerked his chin at Jeff, who only lay there on his side panting heavily, face pointed down at the dirt. “Ask Jeff. Have him tell you what this is all about.”

“I will, Oscar. I will. But I’m asking you first right now.”

His face screwed up and, amazingly, I saw his lower lip quiver as he said in a breaking voice, “He been putting hands on Maria.”

Something like an icicle formed in the pit of my stomach and spread out rapidly through my body. I looked down at Jeff for several seconds, trying to comprehend what Oscar had just told me. I looked over my shoulder at the group of children and locked eyes on Elizabeth. Briefly, I heard what sounded like rushing water, which then muted as though I was moved away from a fast-moving stream at impossible speed; the sound tightened down to a high-frequency whine stabbing through my ear, into the base of my neck, and down my spine.

“Rebecca… Samantha,” I said, “please take the kids away. Stay with them.”

“Come on, you guys,” Rebecca urged immediately, enfolding her arms around them all like a mother swan collecting her nestlings to her breast, and moved them as a whole towards Oscar’s home. Samantha looked back at me as they walked away, mouth working. I turned away.

I looked from face to face, trying to determine what should happen next.

…putting hands on Maria…

In my head, I saw Elizabeth’s hand closing around the king on a chess board. A small, soft hand with perfect, even nails.

A hand reached out to me, and I heard George say, “Amanda… we can’t just…” He either said no more or I didn’t hear him.

I realized I had my finger on the trigger of my Glock; a thing I was never to do unless I was ready to use it, according to Gibs. I didn’t remember putting it there. I removed it and, making a point to not look at Jeff, I approached Oscar and asked, “Did you see?”

“What?” he asked in a surprised voice.

“Did… you… see?”

“I… no.”

“Rose told me,” Monica offered.

“And you told Oscar?” I asked, taking great care to keep any possible hint of accusation from my voice.

“Yes, that’s right.”

I nodded. “Come here, please, Monica.”

As she approached, I held my pistol out to her, which she slowly took in both hands.

“Where’s Jake?” I asked.

“I was just with him an hour or so ago,” Barbara offered. “He should still be in the house, as far as I know.”

“Why the hell didn’t he come out?” blurted Fred. “There was enough shouting to pull people from a mile off.”

Ignoring the question, I said to Monica, “Nothing happens until I get back. Everyone needs to be involved in this.” She nodded her understanding, and I left to get Jake.

Inside the cabin, I stood a moment in the entryway and listened to see if I could hear Jake moving around anywhere while also struggling to bring my racing mind under control. Seemingly on its own, my brain was playing scenario after scenario in my head, each ending in a grisly, broken state. An irrational part of me scrambled to figure out some way to get back to how things were only a short while ago, though such a thing was now impossible. I realized that I didn’t want to deal with the situation; also that I didn’t want to deal with the very strong desire to take Jeff to some hidden place and solve the problem.

I put the thought out of my mind, or at least tried, deciding that it was best to be sure. Could it be a misunderstanding? Probably not; things wouldn’t have gotten as far as they had if this had been a simple miscommunication. What, then? Rose was lying… or Maria? Could Maria accuse Jeff of such a horrible thing out of some desire to gain attention? My head went around in circles, chasing its own tail, as I struggled to find some way to know the truth.

Jake was almost always in the Library if he was in the house during the day, so I went back there first. I called his name as I approached down the hallway to avoid startling him when I entered. Moving quickly, I stopped just long enough to poke my head around the doorjamb to scan the room and confirm his absence. I pulled back and returned to the front of the house, trotting now, as I continued to call for him, and searched the rest of the common areas. He was nowhere to be seen on the bottom floor. Could he be sleeping? I knew he got headaches from reading sometimes and couldn’t get rid of them without laying down in the dark for a few hours.

I ran upstairs to his bedroom and tapped on the door before opening it. The room was dark, with the wooden shutters pulled tight. It smelled of Jake, whose scent tended to change occasionally based on whatever soap we happened to find or, when there was no soap to be had, and bathing happened only with water, might deepen into a combined musk of old leather, denim, and some underlying, indescribable thing that always made me think of cedar. The bed was empty.

“Fuck me,” I moaned, backing out of the room. I stood at the door a moment, trying to decide where he might be. I could feel the opposing door of my old bedroom behind me like a physical presence, pressing into my back, and wondered. I didn’t think he’d be in there; he’d never gone in there without me being there as well. I turned to open it, hand stopping short of touching the knob. No, he wouldn’t be in there. I turned away.

I returned to the landing and began to descend, so deep into my own head that I didn’t see him waiting for me at the bottom until I’d gone three steps down. As usual, my heart leaped into my throat.

“What’s the matter, Amanda?”

He looked small at the bottom of the stairs, enough of a distance away from me that it was hard to make out the flattened mass of his nose. His too long hair fell into his eyes, making him appear almost boyish, which was offset by the fact that both his shirts and pants would soon need to be replaced if he was going to insist on always trying to lift more weight with that barbell set.

“What the hell?” I shouted. “I was calling for you!”

He was up the stairs before I knew what was happening, the backs of his fingers pressed against my cheek and looking at me intently.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You’re sweating. What’s happened, are you hurt?”

“I… I need you,” I said lamely. I corrected: “I need you outside right now.”

It took far less time than I would have thought to explain the situation once Jake was outside. Such an earth-shattering thing, so horrifying, summed up in a simple declaration.

“I guess he was doing more than teaching the kids,” Oscar said in a shaking voice. “He was messing with my girl. Touching on her. I’m gonna kill him if I can.”

Jeff cringed deeper into himself as Oscar spoke and whimpered, “It’s not true.”

“I see,” Jake said after a moment’s consideration. His face was unreadable, which told me everything I needed to know.

He crouched down in front of Jeff, placed two fingers against his chin, and lifted up the ruin of his face to get a clear look. There were several cuts bleeding freely, and the left eye had swollen shut completely.