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

Warren nodded at this statement of simple fact, though something nagged at the back of his mind; a critical thought left unformed—a detail on which all might depend.

Jake folded his fingers in his lap. “We’ll resist you, of course. If you want to take us, you’ll have to take us with force. And we’ll fight… and many of us will die, I’m sure. I’m also sure we’ll kill a few of yours as well.”

“You can’t be serious…”

“We can escalate this as much or as little as you’d like, Commander. I’m sure you could come across the room and subdue or kill me right now, as the tensing of your muscles indicates you’d like to do. I would resist you in this regard as well, though I have little illusion as to how that would go. You’d trounce me, certainly. You’d have a hell of a time getting very far past my doorstep, though. You might make it out of here; I realize you’re highly skilled. But again… you’ll have to kill many of us to do so.”

Warren stared at Jake, struggling to keep his temper in check. He took a breath to center himself and said, “You’re certain of your peoples’ willingness to go through with this?”

Jake scoffed. “Not at all. I can think of a handful that I can rely on without question, but many of the others will go over to your side if you point a gun at them, I’m sure. One or two might even go over without the gun; I won’t stop them if they honestly desire to leave—I’m not holding anyone here. But you’ll certainly need to kill or imprison a few of us, at least, and then you’ll be the man that killed or imprisoned us, yes? Are you certain, Commander Warren, of your peoples’ willingness to go through with this?”

“You son of a bitch…”

Jake nodded in agreement. “This can be friendly, or it can end in murder, Commander. And that’s what it will be. Not fighting or killing. Murder. We were happily living up here, going about our business. You have moved in to impose your will. How this plays out will be your decision. Your responsibility.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, his demeanor final, and gestured at the door. “I suppose you’d better go discuss this with your staff. We’ll await your answer here.”

Warren flexed his hands and nodded stiffly. “Thank you for your time, sir.” He got up to leave.

“Warren?”

He looked back.

“You have people up in the trees of the surrounding mountains, don’t you? Some sort of scouts or rangers around the walls of our valley? It’s what I’d do. Take them with you, please. Their continued presence will be interpreted as hostile. They may or may not be found; I have no doubt that they’re exceptional. If they’re discovered though, we’ll respond accordingly.”

Warren left the room.

Commander Warren emerged from the cabin’s front door to find a slew of people awaiting him in the vicinity of the porch. Gibs, who had been leaning against the railing in a state of near-boredom, shot to attention as soon as the door slammed shut. The female—Amanda—lounged in a deck chair; she only looked up at him inquisitively. Warren scanned the area, saw Jeffries and the rest of his men down the steps… and there was that other girl he’d seen before; the one that had been holding Lum’s hand. She wasn’t holding it now, at least, but she stood close to him, directing a look of pure worry up at the Seal.

Suppressing a grimace, he said, “Gibs…”

“Otter?”

He nodded. Here was a start, at the very least. “Gibs… I’m not sure what the exact situation is here, and I’m not really interested in surmising. I think you and whoever else that man listens to had better go in there and have a talk with him. Soon, before he ends up getting himself or someone you care about hurt.”

Confusion fluttered across Gibs’s face momentarily, followed by understanding. His brows furrowed together and he took a half step forward, lips pulling back from his teeth.

“And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Warren turned to face him, put off slightly by the man’s demeanor. He assessed Gibs’s body language instantaneously and planted his own feet squarely in response. He noted that Amanda was on her feet now, standing at the Marine’s shoulder, with her hand hovering dangerously close to her sidearm. It looked very casual; also very deliberate. He looked into her eyes and saw everything he needed to understand.

“What is it with you people?” he asked, genuinely confounded.

“Otter,” Gibs said, “thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for bringing Wang back to us. But now, if you don’t mind, I think myself and the rest of my people have some things to discuss amongst ourselves, so if you’ll just get your LPC’s humping Ricky-fucking-Tick, we can get down to business, Rah?”

Warren sighed. He wondered briefly if all of these people were just completely fucking crazy. Shaking his head, he glanced at his people and said, “Jeffries, you and your men have five mikes to get your gear secured and ready to roll.”

“Sir,” he grunted. He looked at Samantha, clearly torn, and when he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out. She shook her head slightly, lips working.

“Jeffries?”

“I… Sir,” he repeated. He rotated on his heel and trotted off toward his camper while the rest of his men jogged to the bus. Samantha watched his retreating back for a few moments before her eyes fell. Silently, she wandered off in a direction of random choosing, the only requirement for its selection being constrained to her need for it to take her elsewhere.

“Let’s go, Montez,” Warren rumbled, and stomped down the porch steps.

Gibs and Amanda watched them as they walked off towards the Humvee. When they were well out of earshot, Amanda muttered, “What the hell just happened?”

“Hell if I know. I was half convinced he was just gonna curb-stomp my ass.”

The door opened and shut behind them. As they watched Warren and his men climb into the Humvee and fire up the engine, Jake sidled up next to them, eyeing the vehicle balefully. His eyes were hooded under an uncharacteristic scowl; something Amanda was completely unused to seeing.

Gibs glanced over his right shoulder at the man, nodded, and looked back out at the idling Humvee. “Hey, Jake. What’d you say to the squid?”

Jake shrugged slightly. “Well, I’m paraphrasing here, but ‘go fuck yourself’ would be the general theme.”

“Oh boy…”

“Yes. Where’s Wang?”

“Over at Monica’s.”

“Good. Let’s wait until Warren has left the valley, please, and then get him. The four of us need to have a sit-down as soon as possible.”

Gibs experienced a brief flash of déjà vu as he sat on the sofa in the cabin’s front room. He’d been here before, it seemed; not meaning the room, of course—he’d been in just about every part of the cabin at one time or another since coming to live in the valley. Hell, they’d celebrated Christmas and New Years in this very place. But the specific setting right now, with Jake and Amanda in their opposing chairs on either side of the fireplace, and him on the sofa… a discussion of deathly serious import. It was familiar, only the last time he’d done this George and Wang had been on the couch next to him, and Edgar had been in the high, wingback chair that Wang now occupied. He was leaned over far to his right and resting heavily on his elbow, crutches settled up against the armrest. He regarded Jake and Amanda both with a serious look. A hard look.