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

“In here, Pap!”

There was a sound of fast moving footsteps, growing louder as they came back up the hallway until Pap emerged back into the lobby. He jerked his head around in search of Clay, and it was clear from his expression that whatever he needed was a big deal. Clay raised his hand from behind the front desk and waved to get his attention. Pap expressed his relief with a hitched sigh and rushed over to stand in front of him.

“Baws, you’re gonna shit! Guess what happened?”

Clay’s face screwed up in some combination of annoyance and disgust, as though he’d just sucked on a sour apple, and he said, “God damn it, Pap, can we not have these fucking guessing games today while I’m trying to eat? Just state clearly and concisely whatever the fuck has you hopping around like a fruitcake, okay?”

Pap nodded, minuscule wet noises shaking from his jiggling cheeks. “Sorry, Baws. Bad habit. It’s Ronny; he come back!”

Clay sat back in his chair, unfiltered surprise (and maybe even just a touch of disappointment) painted across his wide eyes and sagging mouth for the entire world to see.

“Son of a… all of them?”

Pap shook his head slowly, looking absolutely miserable.

“Oh shit, Pap. How many?”

“Seven.”

The sagging disappointment was replaced with utter shock. “Sev-!” He ran a hand through greasy, black hair and tried again. “He lost sixty … fucking… people ?”

Pap nodded.

Clay looked back at the half-filled bowl, now completely devoid of appetite. His stomach had stopped bothering him as well as his head, blessedly. He felt numb all over; stricken completely dumb that Ronny had managed to lose sixty people in one go.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. “I knew this was gonna happen. I knew he couldn’t keep it up. Someone out there was bound to get wise at some point.” He looked back up at Pap and asked, “How did this happen?”

“Don’t know yet, Baws. He only come rolling in just now.”

Clay stood up and said, “Bring him the fuck over here now before he has a chance to talk to anyone else. Go get him right now, Pap, and send someone out to collect Johnny as well.”

Pap wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded. He ran across the lobby, leaving Clay alone in the silence. He looked back down at the bowl and felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Knowing he was looking at his last chance for a meal before the day ended, he lifted it to his mouth and took the biggest swallow his mouth could hold. He came out from behind the front desk and settled into one of the lobby chairs to wait. He did not have to wait for very long.

Pap blew through the front door a few minutes later, dragging an enraged Ronny by the elbow. Six people came scurrying in behind them; the other survivors from Ronny’s crew, Clay assumed. Ronny was spitting an unending stream of curses as he was half-dragged over the threshold. Pap came to a stop, ignoring Ronny’s protests, and said, “I brung him, Baws.”

“Fucking moron,” Ronny growled. He shot his arm forward in an attempt to yank his sleeve from Pap’s fist, but the larger man just held on with that meaty soup bone of a hand, barely noticing Ronny’s attempt to free himself.

“Okay, turn him loose, Pap.” He did as Clay asked and Ronny took three full steps to his left to distance himself from the Texan, eyeing him angrily.

“Fuckin’ bullshit, is what this is!” Ronny spat. “What the hell do you mean, having me hauled in here like this?”

“Just calm down, Ronny. I wanted to hear what happened before a bunch of rumors started circulating, doesn’t that make sense? I’m sure there’re plenty already, but that’s no reason not to take precautions, is it?”

Ronny looked at Pap again, his expression one great sneer, and said, “So you send the horse-fucker to fetch me up?”

Pap’s face flushed bright red, and his eyes narrowed down to slits. “Yer puttin’ me in a horn-tossin’ mood, boy.”

Ronny barked a shocked laugh and asked, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Pap,” Clay interrupted. “Would you please find Johnny for me? I’d like him here.”

Pap nodded, shot Ronny a look of stupid, wordless murder, and left.

“Ronny, you’ve always struck me as a cautious person. It’s why I’m so confused that you always insist on poking that man in the worst way possible. You do realize he’s big enough to wishbone your knobby little ass, don’t you?”

Ronny tossed his chin. “Fuck ’im.”

“Fine, have it your way. Have a seat.”

“What for?” demanded Ronny.

“I want Johnny here and I don’t want to waste your time having to repeat yourself. Just get comfortable.”

The other man eased into a couch directly across from Clay, trying to appear carefree; an act that was ruined by the rapid drumming of his fingers on the armrest. Pap came steamrolling into the lobby with Johnny a little later. They sat down as well and waited for Clay to decide what came next. The other six people that had returned with Ronny spread out through the room, finding places to sit and things to lean against. A few of them moved out of Clay’s field of vision.

Clay sat quietly a few moments, intentionally making them all wait (setting the tone, as it were), before saying, “Well. Johnny and Ronny.” Something about the fact that his name sounded so similar to Johnny’s always infuriated little Ronald, Clay knew; it had been the man’s incredibly poor choice to share this information when their club had begun to form. It was a tidbit Clay produced to air out when it was needed, as he felt it was now.

He drummed the tips of his fingers along his knee a moment longer before asking, “Is it true that only seven of you came back?”

“Now just hang on a fucking minute—”

“Just… yes or no. Seven?”

Ronny appeared to resist the urge to chew his own lips off. He finally nodded.

“Oh my god…” Johnny whispered.

“Okay, okay,” Clay said. “Just tell us what happened. But first—” he held up a finger when Ronny opened his mouth, halting him. He took the same finger and pointed it back behind himself; without turning in that direction, he said, “I want you guys to come around to where I can see you. Stand behind Ronny, if you have to. This is a discussion between all of us, see?” He waited patiently until everyone in the room was comfortably within his field of vision, and then gestured to Ronny. “As you please.”

Ronny took a breath and struggled to get control of himself in ways comically obvious to Clay, what with all the shifting and rubbing his palms over his thighs. It was one of those things Clay struggled to keep to himself. He always felt like asking him, “Hey, do you realize just how fucking fidgety you get when you’re nervous? Do you know how easy shit like that is to read?” It was a difficult restriction for Clay to uphold; he would have enjoyed explaining this to Ronny just to see the look on his face but, on the other hand, this was one of those things about which he preferred to keep the other man ignorant. It had a way of making his life easier sometimes.

“We set our ambush up in the normal way, with Yelena pulling baby duty,” Ronny began. “We didn’t know anyone would be along, though; we’d only gotten out there the night before. I guess we just sort of got lucky, getting a bite so early and all. So… we had her out there maybe an hour or two, with all of us in the trucks hidden out by Arrolime. Next thing we knew there was a flare popping up over the hilltops on our left, which meant they just blew right by Yelena, as you know.”

“Sure,” Clay nodded.

“So, there it was and we were off to the races. We all fired up at once and took to the highway, and then I guess we were a few minutes catching them up.”