A Very Good Man by P. S. Power Read Free Book Online Page B

Jake could just hope he hadn't gotten anyone that he actually liked. That always made killing people harder.
  People started to stand in the room, including, by voice and the size of the silhouette, Nate, who the two men had been standing over, or at least near. He always took the position by the door, since it would be the one in the most danger if an attack came. Jake always pulled the far wall for the same reason. Or maybe not exactly the same. Really Nate did it because the others were afraid, Jake did it because he was.
   So not at all alike. It had worked out for Nate though, this time.
  Moving carefully past the form on the bed with him, just standing and walking on the mattress he flowed across the room toward the men on the floor by the door. Nate held his hands out and identified himself clearly. It was dark after all.
  “I'm Nate Green.” He said.
  “Jake.” The answer was automatic. It was also pretty close to the first thing they'd said to each other, on the second day, when they'd met on the street.
  The shadowed form nodded and Jake pointed at the people on the floor as everyone else started to gather around slowly.
  “Who...” This came from behind him, the woman from his bed. Nate knelt and examined the first one, checking the pulse at the neck.
  “Dead.” He said, just in time for the one next to him to surge up and try to attack.
  Moron.
  He could have possibly escaped if he hadn't moved. Jake thought this right after he blew the man's brains out. It was instinct now, to shoot at the least sign of trouble. This time it worked. It would probably be a problem if things ever became more civilized again though. Kill the mailman for knocking or hunt down the neighbor's dog for being a little too loud.
  Carl came to the door, massive, muscular and grumbling slightly, a deep sound that was half felt, not just heard. He had a lit candle with him.
  “Who'd we lose?” He asked, noticing that Jake was armed. Not why it happened. Not yet. Just who.
  Then he noticed the knives and grunted again, kicking one of the blades free from a dead hand. Lowering himself he held the candle close to the faces, one couldn't be recognized, but the other was one of Holsom's crew. The other guy would be the last man then. Jake thought the clothing matched. Hard to tell given the light. It made perfect sense that Holsom would send two goons instead of trying to take Nate himself. This way the softies with them could say it hadn't been their pretty boy Derrick and give him yet another chance.
  Maybe he really could get that gun for Sammi.
  Jake just sighed. It was going to be a long day. It always was when you had to argue with stupid people.
  He quickly reloaded the forty-five, an old and slightly clunky revolver, then strapped his nine into place. The forty-five went into the small of his back, which was a constant annoyance but mainly when sitting. Since he only sat at meals anymore it wasn't such a huge issue. The light was still dim, so Jake asked Carl to hold the candle while he dragged the bodies outside. Nate signaled a few people in the dark room to help as well and someone moved in next to him, grabbing a shoulder and pulled the man down the stairs with a series of thumps. A lot of noise for this early in the day, but everyone would be awake already. Gunfire always woke him up at least. Better for getting people going than coffee.
  Outside he could make out his helper's face, Carley. She looked scared and stared at him nervously for a few seconds, then hugged him. It was a simple panic reaction, he knew, so Jake didn't read anything into it. It was nice though, even if it was coming from someone that really didn't like him very much. Since all this happened he'd only gotten three hugs, and one of those had been a zombie. The other had been Nate.
  “Fuck. I hate this. I hate it all.” She said, keeping her voice low, nearly in his left ear.
  “Yeah. It's really screwed up. We