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

When Jake asked him what he thought of the strangers as a people, Gibs said he hadn’t the first clue, and that was the point at which those assembled began to shift uncomfortably in their seats and grumble.

“Surely you must have some idea?” George pressed.

“Oh, I have plenty of ideas,” Gibs shrugged. “But it was way too short to base an opinion on. The main guy down there, Clay—he comes off at first like a bit of an as… of a putz. But as I consider it, I suppose that people rarely think of me as a tender rosebud the first time they’re blessed with my glorious presence. So he’s got a bit of a mouth on him, sure, but really, the man just feels to me like a guy spread a bit too thin. He’s definitely the number one pinhead up there, and just taking into account how many people are traveling with him, it’s got to be a constant headache. That’s before you consider that a few of his guys don’t seem to be firing on all eight.”

“Explain, please,” Jake said.

“Well, he’s got this one kid with him; Riley. Now, I can’t tell if that boy is putting on an act or if he really is just profoundly retarded. I can’t even tell which would be worse, come to think of it. On one hand, you have a group of people just moved in that make it a habit of arming the short-bus kids. On the other, you have a guy pretending to ride the short bus. I’m not quite sure how to take either of those cases.”

“I do wish you wouldn’t use that word,” Patricia muttered.

“Huh? What, short-bus?”

“‘ Retarded .’ It’s hurtful.”

Gibs sat back in his chair, looking fairly confused. “Patty, really? You wanna do this right now?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t like it.”

“By show of hands, how many retards do we have around here?”

“We can probably stop there,” Jake said.

“Fine, fine,” Gibs grumbled. “Look, I apologize for being a caveman, okay? If you want to hash this out later then fine, but we do have a matter of slightly higher import to discuss right now. Can we agree on that?”

Patricia nodded.

“Well, thank you. Jesus…”

“So what was wrong with him?” Oscar asked.

“Huh?”

“The ’tard, dude? What was his problem?”

“Hey, enough,” Jake snapped. It was unusual for him lash out like that, especially with his closest people, and Oscar jerked slightly in his chair. “There’s a difference between making a point and antagonizing people. If you have a point to make, then do so. If you want to behave like children, do it on your own time in private.”

Things had run cold in their little gathering, the sounds of voices being replaced by the clearing of throats and mutterings. When no one resumed the topic, Jake sighed quietly through an open mouth and said, “Gibs, what was it about Riley that bothered you?”

“He’s… hell, I don’t know. He’s unhinged. Put it this way: if I were riding on a public train with the guy, I wouldn’t put my back to him. Or take my eyes off him. He was the kind of guy you just know is up to something.”

“Yep,” Lum agreed. “Boy wasn’t right in the head at’all. I seed it too.”

“They had a few of them like that out there,” Gibs said. “There was another one that showed up later, some blonde kid—or I assume he was blonde.” Gibs crossed his legs and looked off into the patch of dirt at the center of their circle, remembering. “His hair was so filthy I’d have to imagine it lightening up a bit if he bothered to wash it. This guy Ronny strode right out into the highway where we sat, a bunch of people trailing behind and trying to talk him back to the trucks, just looking right at me like he had the world’s biggest hard… Well, he seemed pretty intense, anyway. He and Riley appeared to be butt buddies of some sort.”

“What is it, Jake?” asked Amanda.

Gibs looked up from the ground at Jake and was momentarily derailed when he saw the man’s expression; eyes sharp and jaw set, as though he stood upon the high edge of a caldera looking down into hellfire and proposed to wade in.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just need to ensure I don’t miss anything. Continue, please.”

Gibs spread his hands and shook his head, “There’s not much more along that line, Jake. I can’t prove there’s anything wrong with them, outside of what I sensed. As I’ve always said, I’m pleased to trust my instincts on these things, but I can’t point to any one thing and tell you, ‘now here’s a thing that proves this guy is a tool.’ Not outside of body language and mean mugging. A lot of the others out there seemed just fine and Clay, once you get past initial impressions, doesn’t seem like such a bad sort to me.”

“Uh, he did proclaim Jackson to be theirs,” Monica said.

“I can’t really see that as a bad thing,” said Andrew.

“Oh, no?”

“No, with that many people? I mean, yeah, it sucks for us—would suck even more if we were depending on that town for food, but… I don’t know. It’s not all that different from what Warren used to do when it looked like other groups were pushing into the Fields, you know? They’d come around looking for stuff, he’d go out to meet them, and say, ‘Sorry guys, but all of this is ours. You’ll need to try somewhere else or throw in with us.’ And the only reason it never went beyond that was because his side was stronger. What about us? We haven’t been running around asking permission when picking over Jackson, have we?”

“No,” Amanda said, giving a small, tentative shake of the head. “No, and there are people out there, as well. We run into them, still, from time to time. We always just took what we needed.”

“So that’s why I’m saying that,” Andrew said. “I know it seems aggressive on their part, since we’ve been here for so long basically unchallenged, but he’s just laying out the situation to avoid run-ins, if I’m understanding Gibs’s story. And I think I am. Women and children. I don’t fault the guy at all.”

“Agree. I don’t either,” Gibs said.

“Well, so what are we talking about doing here, guys?” Fred asked.

Jake shrugged. “I’m not sure there’s enough information to say yet. We want to proceed very carefully, I think. Were you guys able to find out what their food situation is?”

“Not to any detail,” said Lum. “Sounds like they’re aimin’ to loot for some of it.”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded, “and they’re going to get rather desperate when they learn that the only food left in that town is either rotted or rotting. I don’t think we want to get too friendly yet…”

Edgar cleared his throat, then, and said, “Forgive me—should we spend a little time on this? They do have those modified engines Lum told us about. If they’re willing to trade, wouldn’t that be something to get our hands on? We’d be able to run the gas vehicles again. We wouldn’t have to ration our diesel so carefully. In fact, we could go back to daily trips into Jackson if we felt like it; it wouldn’t have to be such a coordinated event anymore.”

“It would be nice,” Jake agreed, “but there are problems to consider. For one, we don’t really need it. Hang on—just let me finish my point. You’re absolutely right, Edgar, that kind of technology would be a real game-changer in a lot of ways. But look; we didn’t even know about such things until recently, did we? It wasn’t even a blip on our radar, and we were getting along just fine. It’s a convenience, in other words.

“Now take into account that the thing Clay’s group probably needs the most—food—is the one thing we can’t spare to any degree. We have just enough crops going to sustain our number. Barely. How much of that would you suggest we part with in trade? How much of our food stores do you think would make a dent for the number of people that have arrived? I’m only guessing now, but what if they had two hundred people with them? Edgar, if they came up here and took everything we had by force, it wouldn’t be enough for them. We have nothing to trade with them. At all.”