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

“I don’t remember exactly what he said anymore, but the gist of it was that he was coming up here to meet with Jake and that he, the Commander, would then decide where we, as in all of us, go from there. It was really sub… somethinged . I can’t think of the word. Subdued? Subsumed?”

“Subtle?” Jake suggested.

“No, that kind of implies he was trying to slip me a hint; he wasn’t. It was like he let a detail slip on accident. Subconscious! That’s what it was: the way he said it was like his subconscious was talking. He spoke like it was already a done deal that he was in charge; like he was just gonna roll in and start telling us what’s what.”

Edgar threw his hands out to the side, “Well, holy Jesus, you guys! Shall we freak out now or hold a vote?”

“Okay, okay, calm the hell down,” Gibs growled irritably.

“This ain’t getting’ us nowhere,” Otis said. “All we doin’ here is tryin’ to read a man’s mind we ain’t even met yet.”

“Wang gave me a pretty heavy look,” Amanda warned.

“A look?” asked Tom. “What’s that supposed to mean? Like, a scared look? A happy, nice-to-see-you look?”

“An intense look. Like he wanted to warn me about something.”

Tom laughed, sounding slightly hysterical. “Well, why the hell wouldn’t he just come out and say it?”

“Warren was standing right there, eh?” Oscar said.

“Hang on, I’m confused,” Monica said, holding her hand up. “You said Wang was or wasn’t armed?”

Amanda lowered her head and sighed. “He had his rifle…”

The other woman bugged her eyes slightly and looked around the rest of the gathering. “He was going around with a rifle? What kind of prisoner is that?”

“I didn’t say he was a pris—”

“That’s right, Amanda,” Fred said, bouncing a pointed index finger thoughtfully. “They said Wang helped them fight some bandits off on the way up here too. You really think that whole ‘he was trying to warn us’ impression holds up against that?”

“I really don’t understand what the issue is, here,” Jake interrupted. “They saved Wang’s life. They sent Gibs, Greg, and Tom back home to us with armored escort. Lum and his people have been with us since October—that’s seven months, now. You really want to make the case that they’re not with us… or that they’re not to be trusted? After seven months? After everything they’ve done to help us scrounge? After everything Lum has done personally to enhance our survivability? Now you want to turn around and say, ‘they’re with those other people?’” Jake shook his head slowly. “You’ll all have to excuse me, but… bullshit.”

He stepped off the porch.

“Hey, where are you going?” Edgar demanded.

“I’m going to get the rest of our people,” Jake shot back over his shoulder.

“We haven’t voted on this!”

Jake stopped in his tracks, completely frozen. Several of the people standing around on the porch perked up instantly in response to his sudden change of mood. Amanda noted the tensed muscles running through his shoulders even through the material of his thick winter jacket. He turned, and she saw that familiar dead look. That shark look. Her heart flopped over in her chest, and she thought to herself, “ No… he wouldn’t! ”

He walked back towards the porch now. Several people backed up to give him room even though there was a clear path up the steps to Edgar, on which Jake’s gaze remained locked; he didn’t even glance down at the steps as he climbed them two at a time. He advanced on Edgar like an impending car collision, not even slowing down, such that Edgar had to fall back several steps or be run over entirely. It was so abrupt, so out of the ordinary, that even Gibs blurted, “Hey, Jake… come on, man…”

Jake ignored him. He stood there, nearly nose to nose with Edgar, who was pinned ramrod straight against the cabin’s front door with eyes wide as saucers and a sickly green pallor to his skin.

Without tone or inflection, Jake said, “You want to vote to determine if Lum, Pablo, Ortega, Jessop, Dawkins, Kilmer, and Tarlow are part of our community, now. I see. Do they at least get to be included in that vote?”

Edgar swallowed, unable or unwilling to answer.

“Of course. And what about after that? Shall Amanda, Elizabeth, and I hold a vote to decide if you all have a right to be here? And cut you out of that process? Do you suppose that would be fair? What would you say to argue against it? What claim do you lay to your position here that those men haven’t staked for themselves several times over? Explain what it is that makes you so worthy.”

Edgar’s mouth began to work, but there were only clicking sounds coming from his throat. Jake cocked his head, and it reminded Amanda exactly of how he’d looked at Jeff, just before he’d decided that Jeff was guilty. Edgar was on incredibly dangerous ground and, moreover, it seemed that he was well aware of his tenuous position, given his utter inability to defend himself. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gibs take a step forward, a clear look of unease on his face. Or was that displeasure? She couldn’t be sure which it was, but his eyes were drilling directly into the back of Jake’s head. She wondered how this was going to play itself out and what she would do if things went as horribly as she suspected they might.

Thankfully, she was spared of the need to discover an answer. Before things could escalate further, Jake took a full step back from Edgar, returning to him both his personal space and his ability to breathe properly. Several of the others standing around to watch the interaction visibly loosened on the spot and Gibs settled back into his position up against the railing.

Jake shook his head a final time and said, “No, Edgar. We’re not going down that road.” He turned away and resumed his path towards the bus. As he went, he continued, “And you don’t get a vote. Not against someone who has yet to commit a crime. We’re not doing it. You’re free to leave any time if you have a problem with that, but we are not doing it.”

They watched him as he paced off through the thinning, patchy snow, straight through the rectangular swatch of dirt destined to be their first farming effort, and on toward the old, highly-modified school bus with its disassembled rear-end bolstered off the ground by a stack of logs. He knocked on the accordion door without hesitation and waited. With the exception of a few windows, the entire length of the old vehicle had been battened over with fiberglass insulation and plywood sheeting to keep the internal temperature manageable in the harsh 40-below climate of the worst winter months, so they were unable to see any activity on the inside of the Soldiers’ retrofitted home. They waited along with Jake, who stood patiently until the door opened slowly to reveal Dawkins’s inquisitive face. The two men talked for a while, though none of those on the porch could hear the conversation that transpired.

“You guys, what if Edgar’s right? What if this is a mistake?” Rebecca asked.

Though she kept her eyes pinned on Jake’s back, Amanda heard a snort from somewhere behind her and knew it was Edgar. He said, “Well if it is, it seems to be a mistake he’s willing to make for all the rest of us…”

“He’s navigated us through the rough spots well enough so far,” Otis murmured.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Otis,” Edgar said.

“That’s right, everyone does,” Fred said, a little forcefully, perhaps. “But you know what, man? Even if this is a mistake, it’s a mistake worth making. I really believe that.”

“Well, Gibs, what do you think?” Tom asked.

The Marine sighed. “I think it’s a goddamned furball.”