Jake's Law: A Zombie Novel (6 page)

“Come down. We have to go before more show up.”

She still didn’t budge. He was on the verge of leaving her, when she began to climb back down. As she did, a branch snapped, and she plunged ten feet to the ground. Jake watched her fall in slow motion, knowing he could never reach her in time. She landed with a sickening thud on her right side and lay there groaning. He rushed to help.

She was young, perhaps twenty
-two or twenty-three, slim and athletic, but looked as though she had missed a meal or two lately. She looked up at him and grimaced, as she tried to sit up.

“I think I sprained my shoulder,” she said.

“Lucky you didn’t break your fool neck,” he replied a little harsher than he had intended, but continued, “What were you doing out here unarmed and baiting zombies?”

“I don’t like guns,” she said.

“Then keep dying a horrible death real high on your list of things to do, ‘cause that’s what’s going to happen to you.” He raised his crossbow into the air. Her eyes followed it. “Either you kill them, or they’ll kill you. Being a pacifist nowadays is a death wish. You can’t always depend on someone who doesn’t share your disdain for self-defense to help.”

“You’re a cop. Isn’t that what you do, save people?”

He didn’t feel like repeating his great-grandfather story about the badge. “I’m not a cop, and I normally don’t save people. Today was your lucky day. Now, why were you running?”

“
My friends and I were holed up in a house a couple of miles away. Ben got careless on a food run and zombies followed him back. We didn’t know they were there until they broke the door down. One grabbed Liz.” She paused and closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she continued, “Ben tried to save her. They both died, horribly,” she added, looking up at him with a sneer. “I ran.”

She
was angry with herself for deserting her friends. He decided to wise her up. “Smart move. They’re dead. You’re not.”

Some of the anger
drained from her face. “I would be if not for you. By the way, my name is Jessica.”

Her
sudden shift from disdain to praise caught him off guard and embarrassed him. He helped her to her feet using her good left arm. “You had better come with me, Jessica. I’ll see what I can do about that shoulder. Can you walk?”

She took a few
uncertain steps. “I can manage, but my shoulder is numb.”

He noticed her
right arm dangling loosely at her side. “You’ve dislocated your shoulder. Here.”

He
handed her his crossbow, and then grabbed her right arm. Before she could protest, he pulled it outwards and up. She yelped in pain, as the bones slipped back into place.

“That hurt like hell,” she snapped
, drawing back from him.

In the Army, he had become a Jack-of-all-trades. A little medical knowledge went a long way fifty clicks from the nearest medic. He knew how much pain he had caused her.
“It will heal,” he replied. He took his crossbow from her. “Let’s go.”

She followed, limping badly
. She had run a couple of miles wearing shorts and sandals with hungry zombies in hot pursuit. Her legs were covered with numerous scratches and scrapes. Several prickly pear cactus spines protruded from her flesh. Her t-shirt was ripped in several places, exposing one of her small, naked breasts through the fabric. He tried not to stare at it, but the sight stirred something in him. He fought it down, as he wrapped his arm around her waist to help her walk. She didn’t protest.

Back in the jeep, he offered her water and a protein bar
he kept handy in case of an attack of hypoglycemia. She accepted both eagerly, downing the bar in three quick bites.

“Thanks,” she said
, still chewing. “What’s your name?”

“Jake Blakely.”
He fished another bar from his bag and handed it to her. “You can’t go back home,” he said.

She shook her head. “No,
Jake, I can’t.” She glanced around. “I know the area. I’ll find some place safe.”

“And starve?” he asked. She didn’t reply. “Look, it’s not safe here. I’ve got a place north of here that’s secure, and I have plenty of food.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve got hot water for a shower, too. I don’t make any promises, but at least you’ll have a meal, a shower, and a place to sleep tonight.”

She looked at him undecided. He guessed at the reason for her caution.

“If I wanted to rape
you or kill you, I could easily do it now, and I wouldn’t have had to waste precious protein bars.”

She smiled
sheepishly at him. “You’re right. I’m being foolish. I accept.”

“Just as long as you know I’m not adopting you.
When your wounds heal, you’re gone.”

“Fair enough.
I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Too late
for that,” he replied, as he cranked the jeep, mentally kicking himself for ignoring
Jack’s Law #4 – Don’t bring home more problems than you left with. Especially a good looking problem,
he added.

* * * *

Later, after a shower, Jessica looked almost human again. Her short red hair hung in wet curls on her scalp. He had given her one of his t-shirts to replace her torn one. It was too big for her small frame, but at least it hid her breasts. While she was showering, he had considered his options. He had broken
Jack’s Law #2
twice today already, and his nose was feeling rather tender. He had saved Reed, and now Jessica. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but now she was here, and he was responsible for her.

“Sit down,” he said.

He broke out his medical kit and tended to her cuts and scrapes. They were numerous but less serious than they had first appeared. He had painfully plucked out the cactus spines with a pair of tweezers before her shower to prevent them from breaking off and becoming infected. A few of the deeper gashes still bled. She winced, as he applied antiseptic spray and covered the wounds with bandages. Her sprained ankle and dislocated shoulder would heal with sufficient rest. Afterwards, as he put away his first aid kit, she smiled at him.

“You have gentle hands
, Jake.”

Embarrassed, h
e ignored her comment. “I’ve got aspirin for pain, if your shoulder is bothering you?”

She moved
her right arm experimentally and bit down on her lip. “A little stiff, but I’ll hold off on any pain killers for now. I don’t like drugs. I guess I won’t be doing any yoga for a few days.”

He looked at her in surprise.
“Yoga? Are you a health nut?”

“If that’s what you want to call it. I teach, uh, taught yoga and nutrition. I try to maintain a healthy body – no meats, grains, processed or fatty foods.”

He laughed aloud. “Boy, did you choose the wrong time to be picky.”

She stared at him for a moment, finally got his joke, and laughed
with him. “Yeah, it hasn’t been easy. I guess I’ll have to alter my diet, but I think my healthy lifestyle is the reason I haven’t gotten the Staggers.”

“
If that were true, I’d be dead. I can offer fresh vegetables, eggs, and cheese if you’re not a strict vegan, but everything else is canned, smoked, or still walking around on four legs.”

“Cheese?”
she asked in disbelief.

“I have goats. I milk them and make cheese, mostly feta, but I have a good imitation of Italian
caprino aging. Of course, I have a block of cheddar around somewhere if you prefer, but I salvaged it from a grocery store. I keep goats because cows require too much space to maintain even a few of them.”

She nodded. “How do you know about
making cheeses?”

He waved his hand at
the bookcase against one wall. “Books. You can learn anything from books, although my first few efforts were unappetizing messes.”

She looked at his modest but eclectic collection
books. “Are all deputies survivalists?”

He smiled
at her question. “Not all. Some of my colleagues called me a kook. I consider myself a prepper, ready for almost any eventuality.”

“Even a zombie apocalypse?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “The principle’s the same. Survival is survival.”

“I suppose.” She glanced around
the room, noting the disarray. “Are you married?”

He laughed.
Never a very neat person, he had clothes lying across the back of the sofa and dining room chairs, books piled on tables, and the furniture was coated in a fine film of dust. “Do you think a wife would let me keep the house this messy?”

“Have you been?”

He shook his head.
“No. I came close once or twice, but it didn’t stick, or maybe I didn’t stick with it long enough for it to take. Either way, I live alone.”

“Me, too,
live alone I mean. I had a boyfriend, but he died.”

Jake simply
nodded. There was nothing he could say that would matter. A lot of people had died. Death had become as casual as sex had once been. Death didn’t really matter until it came your turn. “No family?”

She shook her head. “No. My father left when I was ten.
Mom died two years ago. At least she didn’t see the shit hit the fan.”

“
Do you want to survive?” he asked.

She stared at him with her head tilted to one side. “What do you mean?”

“If you want to live, you’ve got to get over your distaste for guns. Running fast just won’t cut it.”

“Guns kill people.”

He laughed at her twisted logic and watched her jaw tighten. “I’ve owned guns all my life, but the only people I’ve killed were shooting at me in Afghanistan. A gun is a tool, nothing more. I used them for hunting. Now, I use them to stay alive. If it’s guns in general you don’t like, learn to use a bow or a sword, but you can’t always depend on someone else to save your ass.”

“I’ve been doing all right,” she said.

“Maybe you should ask your two dead friends how they
feel about that.”

She recoiled as if he had slapped her. His barb
had struck deeply, just as he had intended. Trying to hang on to one’s beliefs was one thing, but allowing them to kill you was foolish.

He continued, “There are people out there who would kill you for fun, and about half a million creatures that want to eat you. You have to learn to defend yourself, or you’ll die. It’s as simple as that. You can only hide so long. You’ll have to go out among them some time. You need to be prepared.”

“You seem to have a pretty good hiding place here,” she shot at him.

“I spent years preparing it, but
even I have to go out at times. I prepared for that too.” He decided to soften his rhetoric. She had survived so far, so she had some skill at it. He was pushing her into an uncomfortable area. Some people had an unreasonable attitude toward guns, somehow seeing them as more dangerous than other weapons. It would take time for her to adjust to the new reality. “Look, you can stay here for a few days while you heal properly. I can teach you how to shoot a gun or a crossbow, if you want. If not,” he shrugged, “I’ll drop you off wherever you want to go, and you’re on your own.”

She turned her head to stare out the window. After a minute, she looked
back at him. Her cheek was damp, but he didn’t think it was from her shower. “I should be grateful. You saved my life. You took me in and tended to my wounds. I realize my dislocated shoulder would have doomed me. I’ll … I’ll consider what you’ve said.”

“Fair enough.”
He jerked his thumb toward the small kitchen. “I’ll whip up a salad and a couple of cheese omelets.”

She smiled. “That sounds delicious.”

It was strange watching someone else eat. He hadn’t paid attention to Reed eating, but he ate like a man, shoveling food into his mouth with a purpose. Food was energy. Taste was secondary. Jessica ate methodically and deliberately, examining each bite of food before placing it in her mouth; savoring it to allow her taste buds to relish the flavor before chewing and swallowing. He forced himself to slow down. Like Reed, he had a supply of dried and fresh herbs and used them to vary the taste of his meals – Mexican spices one day, Italian the next, and so on for a culinary trip around the globe – but he could eat anything placed in front of him. One day he might have to exist solely on the two hundred MREs he had in storage and wanted to enjoy as much variety as possible before then.

He found it impossible not to stare
across the table at Jessica. She was so intent on her meal that she failed to notice his gaze. He had to admit that she was pretty in a plain sort of way, not magazine model beautiful, but certainly a cut above most women. He normally preferred women with a little more meat on their bones and larger breasts, but she was sexy in a Disney Princess sort of way. At first glance, she looked emaciated – high, thin cheekbones and a petite frame – but her lithe body was well-muscled. Her yoga exercises must have helped. He personally didn’t see much use in twisting your body into outlandish pretzel shapes, but it had worked for her.