Joshua Gayou - Commune - Book One

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Commune: Book One: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Is survival worth the loss of humanity?
Finding a friend in the apocalypse isn’t easy. And for Jake Martin, ever since the plague wiped out 99% of humanity, it’s been damn-near impossible. Life has become an endless trek for canned food, shelter, and avoiding those who’ve turned to killing for anything all while trying not to become a killer himself.
When Jake encounters an elderly wanderer named Billy on the highway to ruined Las Vegas, everything changes. Billy reminds him of life before the end of the world, of when being human meant acting like more than a mindless beast. Although their bond quickly grows, two men don’t make a commune.
Together, they stumble upon a gang of scavengers keeping Amanda Contreras and her daughter prisoner, and using the mother to fulfill their base needs. Jake and Billy decide it’s time to stop just looking out for themselves.
After risking everything to break the girls free, their commune grows to four. Now, they must all learn to cooperate if they’re to survive in a primitive, hostile world in search of a new home. Each of them will learn how far they’re willing to go to continue living… or if living is even worth it.

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The toy section was next. The area was just as thrashed as the rest of the store but we managed to find a selection of coloring books that Lizzy liked the look of as well as a large box of Crayons and one of the more expensive containers of markers. When I told her she could pick out whatever toys we could fit in the cart, she looked around herself for a few moments, face solemn. She finally reached out and selected a Barbie doll, causing me to suppress a gag reflex (my parents had not been able to afford Barbie dolls when I was little, which I think contributed to the fact that I’ve always loathed them).

“Is that all you want, Mija? There’s so much more in here,” I said.

“Just this,” she said with her small voice. “I don’t like it in here.”

I nodded and rubbed her back. “C’mon, baby. Almost done.”

We stopped by the feminine products area (Billy standing well outside of the aisle as though he was a vampire avoiding a church) and I executed a repeat performance of the CD shopping spree. I grabbed everything I could get my hands on including boxes of pads and tampons, razors, lotions, cleaning products, and deodorant. Whatever space was left in the remaining cart was quickly occupied and then some, with a mound of female paraphernalia that towered over the edges of the cart walls.

“Okay,” I said. “Are we good? I know this is my idea, but this place is really starting to get to me.”

“Yeah, let’s call it,” Billy agreed.

We retraced our steps to the back of the store, through the customer service desk, and out the rear storage area. As we moved through the storage racks, I could see Billy’s inner packrat perk up as his head swung around to look at the various boxes that were still left on the pallets. I’ll bet that guy was a serious antique store hound in a previous life; his two favorite things to do were to relax by a fire at the end of a long day and scavenge.

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.”

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