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

Jake was where we left him outside, rifle couched in his elbow and scanning over the lip of the loading dock walls. “You guys find anything good?” he asked without looking back.

“Yes, come over and give us a hand,” I said back.

He turned and saw us waiting in line with two overfilled shopping carts at the top of the steps. “Holy…” he said and hurried over to help carry them down. “I didn’t think you’d be bringing back the entire store.”

“It felt really exposed in there,” Billy offered by way of an explanation. “I wanted to get out as fast as possible; we weren’t exactly discerning in our selection.”

“Well, let’s get these unloaded. We’ll throw them on the floor of the back seat in the jeep and sort through them as we go,” said Jake.

“You take that cart,” Billy said, pointing at the one Lizzy was leaning on. “I’ll take this one to the truck.” Unspoken was Billy’s desire to also listen to music as he drove; Jake and I hid smiles behind his back as he pushed the cart over to the rear door of the Dodge.

I started moving handfuls of items into the Jeep and Jake came over to help. “Mija, go help Billy please,” I said to Elizabeth.

She said: “Okie-dokie,” and trotted over to him. She had evidently forgotten to be angry with me, for which I was thankful.

We finished unloading everything into the back row and stashed the batteries and toiletries in the back. Jake walked over to where Billy and Elizabeth were just finishing up and said, “You can’t be sifting through those while you drive. Someone better ride with you.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense,” Billy said. “I’ll be fine.”

“The truck is a manual, man. You don’t have enough hands. There’s no such thing as roadside assistance or emergency services. Let’s don’t get cocky and wreck a vehicle needlessly. We have a long way to go yet.”

“I’ll ride with you, Billy,” Lizzy said. She smiled at him and took his hand, which I truly believe put an end to any further protest. Billy could be a pushover for the girls.

I realized then how perfectly natural it seemed to me that she should be riding along with him in his truck. We had only been with these two men for a matter of days, and I already trusted them both completely. They had both risked their lives more than once to protect us, had both killed for us, and I had done the same for them. I found myself amazed at how quickly we were forming into a family. I think the heightened danger, risk, and sheer adrenaline of what we had been through together certainly played a part in accelerating the process but it was definitely real. We had begun to find a home in these people. Billy said that we were “building community” between us and even knew a word in his people’s ancestral language, though I’m ashamed to say that I can’t remember its pronunciation anymore. I remember that it sounded like “Taxlis-something.” I really wish I had written it down now; I don’t think anyone can speak that language anymore.

Billy fished around in his jacket pocket, pulled out the Timex, and handed it to Jake. “Here, I bought this for you.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not start taking long, hot showers together just yet. Just put the thing on, and we’ll call it even.”

Jake leaned his AK against the wall of the dock and put the watch on, fiddling with the plastic strap until it was secure. He retrieved his rifle with a nod and walked around to the driver’s side of the Jeep, at which point Billy stopped him. “Yo! You think you’re ready for that?”

“I do. I haven’t really felt fuzzy or dizzy since waking up this morning and moving around.”

Billy didn’t move and only gave Jake his best disapproving poker face.

“I’ll have Amanda with me,” he said. “If I feel wrong, I’ll stop, and she can take over. You saw me catch those keys, right?”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted. “I don’t recall you asking if you could drive my Jeep, fella.”

The look on his face was priceless: shock shifted to horror shifted to embarrassment in one fluid display. There are very few times I can think of since then where his face was so expressive. It was rendered both comical and pitiful from the bruising still evident around his eyes. He began to stammer, “Oh… crap… look, I… hey, I’m sorry…”

I couldn’t help myself; I burst out laughing at him. I was secretly proud at getting such a reaction out of him as he was usually so unreadable. I found it comforting to be able to crack through that armor.

“Calm down, Lancelot,” I coughed after the laughing fit had subsided. I threw him my keys across the hood. “I’m not angry. Just maybe a bit less assumptions going forward, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said seriously.

We all climbed into our respective vehicles. Billy hung his arm out the driver’s side window to give his door panel two solid slaps with his open palm, put the truck in gear, and pulled away. Jake started the Jeep and followed behind him.

“Keep that rifle handy until we get moving along the 15, okay?” Jake said. I nodded and positioned the muzzle so that it pointed out my window. The whole affair felt a bit clumsy with my left hand on the grip, but I was at least confident enough to spray a few rounds in the general direction of danger if required. We drove on in silence with tension building in our backs and shoulders as we passed buildings. My own back felt like it was trying to fold double onto itself by the time we reached the turnoff to the freeway; I spent every minute of that drive waiting to hear a gunshot signaling that we were under attack.

As we swung north up the 15 and left the largest of the buildings, houses, and stores behind us, I finally loosened up enough to talk.

“So, I’m pretty convinced now that this whole excursion was a horrible idea. At least that’s what my nerves are telling me.”

“I don’t think so,” said Jake. “Look, we’re going to have to get good at this kind of thing. It’s not like we get to Billy’s cabin and we’re suddenly done. We’ll still have to go out on a regular basis and scrounge for supplies. The more opportunities we get to practice, the better we’ll get. Think of today as a trial run.”

I contemplated diving into the experiences of that day on a regular basis. “Ugh. We’d better start collecting hard liquor. I’ll need to take up drinking just to keep my nerves steady.”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Jake said, waving my statement away with a hand. “You’re only saying that because you’re still keyed up from yesterday. It’ll get routine, I’m sure. You can get used to anything given enough iterations.”

“Iterations?” I said. I was wondering what kind of person used the word ‘iterations’ as part of their everyday conversation. “Jake, what did you do for a living?” It struck me that I knew next to nothing about him.

“This and that,” he said without offering elaboration. “So, what do we have in the way of music?”

“You name it,” I said. I noticed his obvious deflection but chose not to pursue it. “Bowie, Skynyrd, Taylor Swift, Eminem… there’s Prince, Starboy…”

“Starboy?” he interrupted. “What exactly is a Starboy?”

“R&B singer,” I said. “Let’s see… I’m not seeing any Cash in here. Oh, here’s some Elvis! Uh, Beatles… Radiohead, Mastodon, AC/DC…”

“Why don’t you just pick something?”

“Well,” I said while I thumbed through a few more cases. “Can’t go wrong with Black Keys, I suppose.”

“Yeah, they’re good,” Jake agreed. “Spin it!”

“Spin… it?” I asked.

“Never mind.”

I pulled the power inverter out of its packaging and loaded it into the cigarette lighter in the dashboard. Following that, I got out the CD player, unwrapped the CD (struggling to get all of the annoying cellophane into an orderly ball) and loaded it up. The slow, distorted growl of Dan Auerbach’s guitar began to claw its way out of the speakers not long after I hit the play button and “All You Ever Wanted” filled the cab of the Jeep as we rolled up the 15. I had no idea what was coming next, but the simple act of riding in a car with music playing helped to inject the illusion of normalcy back into my life for at least a little while. I looked over at Jake and caught him grinning out of the corner of my eye. I could almost forget the rifle I had wedged between my seat and the door.