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

“Here they are,” he said. “Please don’t shoot me.” He was spooky-calm—Hannibal Lecter calm—which only served to ratchet my unease up through the roof.

I heard footsteps run up from behind me but resisted the urge to turn; if whoever was coming hadn’t been friendly, Oscar would have called out to me. Davidson came into my field of view on my left with his rifle ( my rifle , goddamnit!) aimed at the new guy. “Covered,” he declared.

I glanced back over my shoulder at the bus. “Hey, where the fuck were you , Wang?”

“I’m sorry!” he called back. “I don’t know what happened; guy just came out of nowhere!”

“I said ‘keep your eyes open,’ Wang! It’s not that goddamned difficult! It’s not as though I asked you to eat some apples and shit a fruit salad, is it?”

Not waiting for a response, I looked back at the stranger. He hadn’t moved an inch. I took a few heavy breaths to get my heart back under control. “Okay, let’s have you turn around, on your kne…” I was going to finish with telling him to go down to his knees and put his hands on his head, but it was unnecessary; he was already down in the desired position before I was halfway through the sentence, like he was perfectly happy to do so. His whole demeanor was that of a person in complete control of the situation; a guy who had all the cards in the deck, plus a few extras from a few other decks. Just looking at him made me uncomfortable as hell.

“Oscar,” I said, “Get your pistol out and go stand to the rear of the bus. Keep an eye out.”

“Got it,” he said without hesitating and ran off in that direction.

“Davidson, swing closer to the building and keep a clear line of fire on this guy. I’m going to approach and restrain him.”

Davidson vectored along my ten o’clock to stand against the building wall across the street, keeping his muzzle on New Guy as he went.

“You hear that?” I called out. “I’m coming over there to restrain you. Just be cool, and you won’t be hurt, understand? Don’t be stupid, guy.”

“Yes, of course. I won’t resist.”

Mother fucker but this guy was freaking me out. A part of me (a part of younger me) kept looking him over trying to spot the bomb vest, but he didn’t have a stitch of clothing on him that could conceal anything. His jeans fit him well; I would have seen the bulge of a weapon along the length of his legs, and there was nothing. His shirt was a little tight across his back and looked nearly see-through. He was either covered by a buddy at range, or he really was out here alone and unarmed.

I pulled some flex cuffs from a side pouch on my rig and approached. As I came closer, I noticed the motion of his breathing through his shirt; even and regular. It was looking more and more like this wasn’t an act. He was truly relaxed.

“Lay down on your belly. Hands behind your back.”

He did, lowering himself gently to the sidewalk and turning his head to the right to rest his cheek on the ground. Seeing him in profile, I noted that his nose had the mashed-in, reverse stair-step appearance of a fighter. Whatever else he’d been through in life, it looked like someone had gone to work on his schnoz with a pipe wrench.

“Davidson, choke up on him. I don’t want you to miss if you have to shoot.”

“Yep, roger,” he called and hustled up to get close. He nearly got the barrel into physical contact with the guy’s head.

“Not that close, man. A little room to breathe, please.”

“Sorry…” he said, pulling back. I was going to have to talk to him about keeping his weapon out of other peoples’ reach when the opportunity presented itself.

“Okay,” I said. “Here it comes. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Suppressing about ten different reflexive retorts, I knelt down to place my knee into the small of his back. I let go of my rifle just long enough to pull the loops over his wrists and yank both ends tight. I returned to my feet and got the rifle on him. I realized I was breathing heavy again; he was incredibly unsettling.

The man lay there a moment and then tugged his hands in opposite directions a couple of times, saying, “Feels about right. Can I get up, now?”

I couldn’t think of any reason why not so I said, “I’ll help you up, but then you gotta sit on the curb.”

“Understood.”

Frustration got the better of me, and I asked, “You do this often, buddy?”

He thought it over and said, “Not really, no. You?”

“I don’t make it a habit,” I responded through clenched teeth.

“Oh. Well, you’re doing fine.” He raised an elbow up into the air to give me something to grab while helping him up.

I sighed and lifted him off the pavement, walked him over to the curb, and stood back as he squatted down easily. He arranged his legs out in front of him crossed at the ankles Indian-style and sat easily (I’d almost say happily) with his eyes forward, held on nothing in particular. From my left, I saw Davidson shrug and shake his head, wearing an expression suggesting he was amazed more than anything. I looked back at New Guy, who again had not moved after he settled into place, like a toy robot that turned off between periods of activity.

“Well?” I prompted.

“Yes?”

“Well, what are you doing, damn it?”

“I’m… waiting for you to question me?”

Before I could answer, Davidson said, “Man, the more you pull that Jedi Mind Trick shit, the closer you’re getting to just being shot.”

I looked over at Davidson and shook my head while frowning. We had the guy restrained; there was no need to start making threats. I wanted information, not a pissing contest.

“I assure you, I’m not pulling any… Jedi shit. I’m answering all questions as truthfully as I can.”

“Let’s start with names, huh?” I suggested. “I’m Gibson but just call me Gibs. My friend, here, is Tom.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Gibs and Tom. Call me Jake.”

I had begun to calm down as we talked. There was no sign of anyone else out there (there had been no sign of Jake before he showed up either, of course, but never mind) and the man in front of us was tied up. I let my rifle hang at rest and said, “I got this, Davidson. Keep an eye out, would you? Wang seems to need all the help he can get.”

“I’m sorry!” Wang shouted from the bus.

Davidson stepped back and rotated away to watch up the street.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s start with what you’re doing out here.”

“Same thing as you, I think. I was out scavenging.”

“Did you have anything to do with these cars?”

“If you mean marking and moving them, yes.”

I stood for a minute looking at him, trying to determine if he was shitting me. “You mean you did all of these on your own?” There were well over a few hundred.

“No, I did have some help sometimes.”

Here we go. “There’s people out here with you?”

“No, not right now. I do live with two other people, but they’re back at home. Scavenging is mostly a solo activity.”

“Where’s home?” I asked.

“Back down the road the way you came in. I can show you if you like.”

I don’t know if I felt confusion or discomfort at what he said; everything about the way he was behaving indicated that he was setting some kind of trap or that he held his own personal safety in complete disregard… or both. Either possibility made him dangerous as hell.

“You’re just gonna lead the guy with the gun back to your house, huh?”

He looked down at my gun pointedly and then returned my gaze. “Do I have a choice?”

“Alright, goddamnit, you can just cut out all of that cute shit before I grow a hard-on with your name on it. What the hell’s going on here? Straight answer.”