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

“Okay, just stay out there and watch what I do. At some point, I’ll find a jack stand, and this process will actually be safe…” His hand reached out, snagged the lip of one of his drip pans, and swung it back up over his head in an arc like he was making a one-winged snow angel. He pulled out a mallet and punch to go to work on the tank.

The first drip pan was nearly filled when the flow of gas began to die out. Billy tsked to himself and said, “Eh, maybe the next one has more.”

“Guys,” Jake called from his position as Billy wiggled out from under the car. “Company.”

Billy and I locked eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head; an ambush with two-thirds of the adults in such a vulnerable position was bad news. “How many?” he asked without moving.

“I only see the one right now. He’s keeping his distance.”

“Let’s get out there and see,” Billy said to me and started to scoot back out from the car. From my position, all I had to do was roll to my back and sit up. I was walking back toward the Jeep while Billy was still in the process of achieving an upright position, looking over Jake’s shoulder as I opened the door, told Lizzy to stay down, and pulled out my rifle. There was indeed a single person a quarter of a mile distant—far enough away that I could see only basic details. He stood unmoving, watching us.

“How long has he been there?” I asked as I came to stand beside Jake.

“Not sure. I called out to you as soon as I noticed him.”

“He’s just been standing there watching?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, what do we do?”

“Not… sure.”

I looked at Jake and saw that this was true. His expression was focused; the unconscious look he assumed whenever in the process of solving a puzzle. He looked out over the distance between us and the stranger, unblinking.

“We have a choice, here,” Billy said from behind us. “We can pack up and move on or approach. Either option comes with its risks.”

“Leaving has risks?” I asked.

“Yes,” Jake answered. “Right now, we can see him. If we leave, we’ll lose sight of him, but he’ll probably be able to keep an eye on us. Means he can follow us. In fact…” he trailed off as he started looking out in all other directions, “there could be friends of his closing in right now while he stands there distracting us.”

“Look!” Billy said.

The stranger put one hand above his head and began to wave at us in large, sweeping arcs. He then lifted what was clearly a rifle over his head and held it aloft for several seconds, giving us all plenty of time to see it. Finally, he let the barrel drop toward the ground where it swung back and forth (there must have been a two-point sling on it), holding it out away from himself in that position, pointing down at the ground. He turned his back on us and began walking due north back toward the 15. He continued to hold the rifle out away from himself in the same fashion as he walked away.

“What the hell…” Billy muttered.

“I think we’re being invited to a meeting,” I said.

“Yeah,” Jake said, nodding slowly. “I believe you’re right, Amanda.”

“Sure, a meeting. Or luring us into a damned trap ,” grated Billy.

“I’ll go,” Jake said. “I want to see.”

“This ain’t firewood, Jake,” said Billy, making no sense at all to me. “We know there’s something out there this time. The smart bet is to just move on.”

Jake sighed, a sound that was so worn and exhausted that I almost felt by way of premonition the person he would eventually become. I have read about hindsight bias and know how it works, but I would almost swear to you that I saw into his future in that moment; saw the weight he would one day place voluntarily on his own shoulders. It made me feel tired to think of it.

“Billy,” he said with the sound of someone repeating an old argument, “I’m not going to live in a world where the first instinct is always ‘shoot them in the face.’ If they prove out to be bad people, then fine.”

“That’ll get you killed,” Billy answered.

“That’s fine, too,” Jake said. “It’s why I’ll go alone and see.” He handed his rifle over to me. “There is no sensible reason we all have to turn into a bunch of pirates. We managed to function as a society before all this. The only thing that keeps us from continuing to do so is our decision to stop.”

With that, he began to walk in the direction of the stranger.

“Yeah, well I just hope the rest of the population got the damned memo!” Billy called from behind him. He watched Jake walk away, clearly indecisive about what he should be doing. He finally scoffed and said, “Shit. C’mon, Little Sis. Let’s go after him. You follow behind in the Jeep. I’ll get this gas into a can and catch you up. Won’t take long.”

The stranger led us all off Main Street in a northeast direction along a narrow patch of dirt that ran just along the freeway interchange connecting the 15 to the 6. Billy and I had to drive up over the curb on the right and navigate through a small, landscaped patch of earth past the sidewalk. Beyond this was a narrow corridor walled in by the freeway on the left and a row of trees acting as a windbreak on the right. The corridor was narrow enough that we had to drive single file behind Jake; the branches of the trees would reach out occasionally and scrape along our door panels. I remember worrying about the Jeep’s paint job like a moron.

We continued on along this narrow track for close to four hundred yards. Towards the end, the wall on the left lowered, disappearing into the ground and the track itself opened up into a large dirt triangle that was around the size of a professional baseball field; the exit point of our little path made up the South West corner. The triangle itself was bisected by the long, sweeping curve of the interchange as it wrapped back around on itself and provided South-bound access to the 6. In the top half of this triangular dirt area just off the highway 6 awaited our stranger as well as a minivan and what looked like a small campsite. There was an easy-up sun shade close by with some chairs positioned beneath it.

We spread out wide to either side of Jake and remained twenty feet behind him; far enough to keep a good field of vision but close enough to swing around in front of him to provide cover if things became violent. For his part, Jake walked deliberately toward the camp, never wavering or hesitating. We moved at a steady four or five mile per hour pace, which is actually a pretty good walking speed but was painfully slow for me as a driver. I instinctively understood the purpose of doing it this way; giving the stranger time to look Jake over and become comfortable to his presence. Unfortunately for me, it had the side effect of making my nerves feel like frayed cables. I stole a glance over at Billy and saw he was doing little better—he was bent over the wheel of the truck trying to choke the life out of it with a death grip.

One hundred feet out from the minivan, Jake extended his palms to us and fanned his hands slightly, telling us to wait there. I applied the brake but did not put the Jeep in park so that I could slam down on the gas instantly if I had to. Jake continued on his path to meet the stranger with his hands extended far out to either side of him. I saw the stranger nod and put his hands out as well. I noticed now that he was a black man, probably around the same age as Billy if not a tad younger, judging by the grey in his thinning hair. He was wearing brown cargo pants and a grey T-shirt with a button collar. Jake walked to within a few feet of him. They both dropped their hands and began to talk.

Both of them looked incredibly stiff during this exchange. Having been in close company with Jake for the past few days, I had become used to his body language and was to a point where I could read his basic moods through those cues fairly well. His arms hung long at his sides without fidgeting, his back was upright, and his head was thrust forward slightly; it was the way the cowboys always stood in the old spaghetti westerns just before having a shootout, only Jake didn’t have any guns. He was playing nice right now, but it was easy for me to see he was ready to get nasty very fast.