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

From what he could tell, Lizzy seemed to be having the same reaction, hence the assumption she’d never seen her mother in an old school alley fight. Thankfully, her mother would not be carted off by the 5-0, but he knew to a certainty that the experience would be unsettling, despite that one bit of grace. He was sitting next to her, rubbing her back gently while whispering words meant to calm, when the knock came. Thankfully, the knock was soft; he’d only just convinced Maria to go back to bed—hopefully, she wouldn’t hear. He went to the door quickly to avoid whoever it was outside deciding to knock harder.

Oscar was unsure who he expected to see standing outside but found he was unsurprised to see Gibs’s unamused, crotchety face staring back at him. He pulled the door open and ushered the man in, but the old Marine only shook his head. Instead, he pointed at Elizabeth and said, “You. Come with me.”

The little girl’s gaze shifted between the two men, landing first on Gibs, who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than on that doorstep, and then shifting to Oscar, who only shrugged and said, “Get movin’, hermanita .”

She came forward slowly. Gibs backed away from the threshold to let her pass, never taking his eyes from her. She sighed and went along.

He stood before a new door soon after, knocking again impatiently. The cold was really starting to sink into his skin now, causing him to shiver. He’d only pulled on a coat and a pair of Uggs before running out to see why it sounded like a collection of rednecks had decided to hold a backyard wrestling match in his actual goddamned backyard. The door soon cracked open and Davidson’s face issued from the gap. He looked shaken and worried.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Is Rambo in there?”

“Ram..? Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s here.”

“Good, let me talk… er… Well, uh, I guess this is sort of your house now, isn’t it? Um, you mind if we come in?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, come on.”

Davidson waved them in hurriedly and shut the door.

Rebecca happened to be sitting on a couch very similar in fashion to the way he’d found Lizzy just a few moments earlier (Oscar had designed the little dwellings like tract homes with identical floorplans, and the furniture tended to be arranged similarly between them all). The living area was dimly lit by a few candles and Rebecca, seeing who had just entered, huffed and leaned back into the couch with crossed arms.

Gibs glanced over at his friend and said, “Davidson… do you mind giving us a minute?”

“Sure, Gibs, not a problem. I’ll be back in bed having a cardiac arrest if anyone needs me…” His voice trailed off as he closed the bedroom door.

Gibs pointed at the couch and waited for Elizabeth to sit down next to Rebecca. When he had them both together, he pulled a chair over from the table, set it on the floor directly in front of them, and eased into it. He sighed, wishing mostly that he was just back in bed having his dirty old man dreams; knowing bitterly that there was no way in hell he’d be able to pick up where he left off, assuming he ever made it back to sleep. It was a goddamned shame, is what it was. He’d been right in the middle of a Rosario Dawson dream. He knew from experience that kind of shit only came along every once in a very rare while.

He settled back into the chair, hands draped over his thighs, cleared his throat, and asked, “Well, what the fuck, ladies?” He experienced a mild twinge when he said it, but he was too exhausted to affect any kind of anger at this point and too damned spent to care about manners.

They started running their mouths simultaneously, as he’d feared they might. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand while holding up the other. Their voices trailed off to nothing. He wiped a hand down his face, sniffed loudly, and looked hard at Rebecca, whose face was shadowed under a cascade of tangled, red curls. He squinted and said, “Let me see you, Rebecca.”

She lifted her chin enough for the light to fall across her features. There was a blackening eye, and her bottom lip had swollen up just like Amanda’s top lip. Gibs rolled his eyes and thought, “ Christ… twinsies…”

“One at a time,” Gibs instructed. “You sound like a couple of chimpanzees trying to win a Cantonese spelling bee.”

Rebecca spoke for them both, explaining how Elizabeth had sought her out some time back toward the end of the year; what the girl had come looking for. Gibs paused the explanation from time to time to ask questions but, for the most part, he just let her talk. Lizzy broke in at points to add to her side of things, but there wasn’t any arguing between them. They both had the same story to tell, basically, with surprisingly similar perspectives.

What it all boiled down to, really, was that Elizabeth was an angry little girl, and Rebecca sympathized with her plight.

Good enough. I’m too damned tired to be any more nuanced than that.

He shook his head and finally said, “Rebecca? Honestly, what the hell were you thinking? Never mind the age thing, here. The mother has said ‘ no .’ Is there any confusion as to what the word ‘no’ means?”

Rebecca shook her head in irritation.

“Oh, well thank God; it’s good to know we agree on that. How about Amanda’s rights as a mother, are those in question?”

Rebecca chewed through the words “No, they’re not” with grinding teeth.

Elizabeth sat up indignantly and began, “What about my righ—”

“You don’t have any,” Gibs cut her off. “You’re a kid, like it or not. At some point, you’ll be old enough that it won’t be so easy for people to tell you that, but until then? Cut the ‘I have my rights’ shit. You do not. It’s bitter, unfair bullshit, and it’s also just how it is. Learn to cope.”

Elizabeth looked away from him, chin quivering. He felt a pang of guilt at being so hard with her, but he allowed the words to hang out there in the air. He wasn’t doing the kid any favors trying to soften the blow. It was pretty clear she needed a dose of reality.

He looked on her a moment longer, waiting for the girl to look back at him or say something. When she didn’t, he asked, “What the hell are you so mad for, anyway? Things are good, here, aren’t they? Why the rush to go shoot the hell out of someone?”

She only shook her head, saying nothing.

He glanced at Rebecca, who only shrugged, then looked back at Lizzy again. “Is it… uh… that is… are you mad because your dad’s not with you?”

A surprised laugh erupted from the girl; a sharp, unlovely thing that carried no mirth. She finally looked at him and said, “My dad? What does he have to do with anything? He got taken down by a stupid flu. I’m not sad about him; I don’t need him. I have Jake. He’ll always be there. There’s nothing that can kill him.”

She looked away again. Her chin was no longer quivering, and she wore a determined, resolved expression. She repeated, “Nothing.”

Gibs stared at her, mildly horrified, and tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind; he couldn’t even decide how he wanted to process what he’d just heard. Instead, he looked at Rebecca and saw that her face mirrored the same expression of confused dismay that he felt within himself.

He bugged his eyes out at her in his “do you fucking see now?” look. He pointed at the little girl beside her and emphasized, “Certain shit needs to be circumnavigated, can you appreciate that?”

Rebecca’s eyes darted to the girl on her left, and then she nodded sharply.

He leaned back and sighed, finally satisfied with at least one of them. He stood, pushed the chair back under the table, walked to the door, and said, “Let’s go.”