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

“Some of us better than others,” Tom muttered, his breathing beginning to come back under control. Jake offered him a look moderately softened by some undefinable inner emotion, shaking his head slightly.

“Billy? He owned this place, then?” Warren asked.

The others nodded. “He brought us here,” said Amanda. “Me, Jake, my daughter. He saved us all, really. I’m not sure where we would have ended up if we hadn’t come together like we did.”

Warren looked from her to Jake, then at the others. They all regarded him, expressions unguarded. All unguarded except for Jake, who had the appearance of an athlete of some sort, poised on the balls of his feet and waiting to pounce, though his posture suggested that he was relaxed. There was a kind of crackling energy hidden just behind his unblinking eyes, as though he stood on the cusp of some achievement. Warren glanced back down at the barbell and shook his head. He could think of nothing to say.

“You and your men are welcome to avail yourselves of these whenever you like for as long as you’re here with us. There are even some bumper plates if any of you prefer a more Olympic style of lifting,” Jake offered.

Warren nodded his head, still gazing at that barbell; at what it represented—a collection of people just cloistered up in the mountains, quietly working away as the world healed around them, making themselves progressively stronger over time. Abiding until they were ready to reclaim the greater land around them.

“I appreciate that, Jake. We just might. I can’t think of the last time I lifted anything other than a supply crate. I have to imagine my deadlift has diminished quite a bit.”

Jake nodded to the others and broke off from them. Amanda stepped unconsciously into the hole he left, and Tom addressed the bar, squaring up to it with his shins. Approaching the Seal, Jake said, “Well, the good news is that strength is always quick to return, once initially gained. The body remembers, yes? Would you like to come with me, Otter? I’m just about to start my day.”

“My people should be up by now. I should see to them.”

“They’ll keep a while yet. Please…” He gestured with his hand, indicating they should pass through the door.

They exited, and Warren fell in beside Jake, who walked easily over the grounds towards the cabin. Warren suspected they would enter, probably on their way to another private meeting, but Jake passed the building by. After the cabin, Warren thought they might be heading towards one of the motorhomes, but they disregarded these, as well. Jake led them out beyond these things, coming at last to a powerfully built tree, standing straight and upright; towering over them. He estimated that he could have wrapped his arms around the trunk and only span half of its diameter.

“Here lies Billy,” said Jake.

Warren grunted. “What happened?”

“People came before us.”

“Where do they lay?”

Jake jerked his head in the direction of the latrines. “Yonder.”

“You came upon them?”

Jake shook his head. “No. We found evidence of their presence when we arrived, but they weren’t here. It’s funny, really. The four of us traveled for days to get here, though it felt much longer at the time. This cabin was our ultimate goal. The promise of its safety drove us; motivated us. It never occurred to us that someone else might have stumbled upon it or… that they might have pinned all their hopes on it.

“They came back after we’d settled in. We spent our days gathering for the winter around this time. I can’t tell you how long we lived here before the others came; the time we had together feels paradoxically both long and short. I know we were here long enough to become comfortable. We were here long enough to begin taking it all for granted.

“The men who came were not bad people, for the most part. I imagine that they would have been any normal group of people, once upon a time; brokers and bankers, firefighters or mundane office managers of some sort. The thing is, we’d all adapted, you know? To this new world? People adapt so quickly it’s really quite amazing. A man is thrust into a new situation and thinks, ‘There’s no possible way things can ever go back to normal after this.’ Perhaps two days later, it’s all routine. You’d be amazed what you can adapt to when you don’t have any choice.”

Warren nodded at this. They were possibly the truest words he’d ever heard from another human being.

“It was the new normal; just helping yourself to whatever you needed. I don’t know why we never anticipated such a thing happening. Maybe the isolation of the place threw us a bit; I don’t know. But such a thing happened anyway, and it was clear as day when we arrived. Their sign was evident throughout. And when they returned, we talked for a time to find some kind of working solution. And after a while, two or three of them decided that talking was pointless.”

“I see,” Warren said.

“They weren’t bad people,” Jake repeated. “Just desperate. And so… here lies Billy.”

“And then Gibs and all these others showed up after. What happened that time? Why was that any different?”

Jake’s face softened, though the expression stopped just short of a smile. “They were my do-over.”

“Your what?”

“The people buried out in the field can’t have a do-over; it’s too late for them, though I would give it to them if I had that power. But I can take one for myself when the opportunity comes along, yes? I saw them out in Jackson, looking destitute and so forth. I disarmed, introduced myself, and offered them dinner.”

Warren glanced up at Jake. It all sounded very familiar to him.

“You… collected them?”

Jake’s head turned a fraction of an inch toward Warren. “We all collect, Otter. It’s human nature. Lepidopterists collect moths and butterflies. Vexillophiles collect flags. Arenophiles collect samples of sand from all over the world; you may have met some in your time. Priests and murderers alike collect souls. Scientists: lab rats and mice.”

“And you’re collecting people,” Warren emphasized. “To what purpose?”

Jake turned to face him. “I could tell you the answer, Otter. I could say it’s for the purposes of survival and fellowship. Would you believe me?”

“I do not know.”

Jake nodded. “Yes. Certain things cannot be simply told. It is why you are here with us now.” He glanced back towards the compound’s center, what would one day become the town center for a people who would toil over this land long after the likes of Jake and Otter had passed beyond, and saw Oscar pushing his wheelbarrow laden with tools out towards the cleared patch of earth; their future greenhouse. He pointed in that direction with his chin and said, “Thus the day’s work begins. You and your people have the run of the land. Help yourselves to what we have but do not hinder our work. The winters here are long; we have to make as much use of the milder months as we can.”

Jake departed to join Oscar, leaving Warren alone. He stood quietly, watching Jake’s retreating back. After a while, he turned to regard Billy’s Tree.

It took Jake and Oscar at least a couple of hours to dig out the holes for the concrete footings. The ground had thawed, thankfully, but the soil was still packed in prodigiously tight, requiring that the earth be churned thoroughly with a pick before a shovel could gain any true headway.

Oscar grumbled as they went. “Why don’t we get some of the guys to come give us a hand with this? We gotta dig four of these, eh? Lemme get the knuckleheads over here; we can do this in half the time, already.”