Jake's Story, ch 10

Jake woke up in the forest, covered with dirt, and he was still a zombie.  The Morrigan was gone--likely long gone.  After trying to remember what had happened, he could feel what was different now.

Unlike before, he could sense his own existence in a way he never would have been able to explain.  After thinking about it briefly, he settled down to sit against a tree and meditated.  Since he was dead, he still couldn’t cultivate properly, but now he felt something he’d never felt before.  Pathways of probability, like meridians through the sky wove through his mind.  Possibilities lay before him that he’d known were there, but now he could sense them so clearly he almost felt like he could touch them.

Now Jake could sense what sort of monster he might evolve into if he cultivated upwards and forward.  He could sense how incredibly complex these possibilities really were now, too.  Since he had a better grasp of what was going on now, he could appreciate how wise it’d been to not try turning into a different monster too soon.

Jake might have dodged turning into a slime or some low level monster that couldn’t even think.  If that had happened, it likely would have been game over for him.

A glimmer of a plan began to form in his mind.  There was no way in hell he was going to make it to Macon in time to save his parents as a zombie.  But what if he turned into something faster, more capable?

Jake made up his mind.  He needed to get the hell out of dodge, find an area with more monsters, and gather energy to cultivate so he could...evolve.

***

About an hour later, he was lying in the prone at the edge of the road, watching a train as best he could through some bushes.  When the Purple Rain had first happened, even with news reports of zombies trains and some busses had still run, at least for a while.  Some people just didn’t see or hear the news until it was too late.  Others tried to return home to their families.

Jake needed to get on that train.  His current location, basically on the border between Georgia and Florida, was just too far away from any area he was familiar with to use any knowledge from his first life.  Even if the train was going the opposite direction, he needed to leave, but this one looked like it was heading north--the direction he needed to go.  Lucky.

This train had made a stop hours earlier, and he’d seen it in the distance.  Then he’d stumbled forward, looking for a car he could climb on in case it started moving again.  He thought he’d finally seen some promising looking train cars, but then he thought he’d heard voices, maybe some screaming.  It was hard to really gauge distances and directions.  The problem wasn’t so much that his hearing was bad, quite the opposite, in fact.  He actually felt like he had better hearing now than when he was alive--just different.

Shit. 

The train had actually begun moving a few minutes ago, and was still barely crawling, but Jake decided to get up and just go for it.  The chance was worth it, because he wasn’t sure if he could make it onto the train if it were moving any faster than walking speed.

He kept swiveling his head to keep the best situational awareness he could.  The sound of voices grew fainter as the train made more noise, and he still couldn’t see any people.  Weird, he thought.

When he reached it, the train was still slow enough, moving towards him, that he could easily climb aboard.  He awkwardly rolled aboard and got to his knees, surveying the inside of the box car.  It looked okay.

Then he noticed the doors on the other side were open, and he could see up ahead why he’d heard voices.  There were people.

Fuck, he thought.

There were three men.  One was standing with a rifle, apparently keeping watch.  He was overweight and nervous, wearing jeans and flannel.  Another, a skinny guy, was standing nearby, drinking a beer and chuckling while the last man cursed as he tried to undress a weakly struggling girl on the bed of an old pickup.  The three men looked like they were in their late teens or early 20s.

Jake mentally cursed again.  If he were smart, he would just pretend he hadn’t seen anything and stay on the train.  The men hadn’t seen him.  They weren’t watching behind them at all.  In fact, they’d likely chosen this spot because of the noise of the train.  Screams could draw monsters--so could gunshots.  Trying to cover noises with the sound of a train, and being near the train in the first place had been clever in its own fucked up way.

He briefly thought about just staying in the box car.  For a few seconds, Jake really wrestled morally.  Yes, if he wasted too much time going north, he wouldn’t reach his family in time, but there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to save them anyway.  On the other hand, the girl here was in trouble right now, and he might be able to do something about it.

Once these men were done with the girl, she wouldn’t likely live to tell about it.  The apocalypse and everything it meant, like no more law, could bring out the worst in people--especially the dumb ones.  In Jake’s first life, smart people had  figured out that even with no law, there would still be accountability.

Most communities didn’t tolerate murderous crazies for too long, at least not small fry.  But murderous crazies with power and followers had been a thing before the Purple Rain--that didn’t change, the power just changed hands. 

With a grumble, Jake placed his hand behind his back and rolled off the boxcar at the right moment.  He didn’t have any air to knock out of his lungs, so he stayed completely conscious and clear headed as he rolled toward the scene.

He got up, less slowly than he might have a day ago, and began walking slowly forward.  The young men still hadn’t noticed him, and it would probably be pretty easy to walk up and bite one, but that would only mean they might die a few days later.  No, he needed different results.  Since he needed to get their attention, Jake began to moan.  Loudly.

To ham up his zombie act, he shuffled forward really slowly, like one of his legs had been smashed and he couldn’t use it well.  He kept moving, though, trying to get as close as possible without seeming like too much of a threat.

All this sudden noise and movement finally got the youths’ attention.  By this point the one on the bed of the truck had his pants around his ankles and the girl wasn’t struggling anymore.  It looked like he’d hit her a few times.  Jake had a bad angle and couldn’t see very well but he thought he saw blood.  Her clothing had been ripped.

After Jake very deliberately moaned again, the man with the rifle turned and Jake tried not to tense.  “No you idiot,” hissed the man with the beer.  “The fast things might hear you!”

“Then why the hell are we out here!” Demanded the overweight guy.  He had the beginnings of a beard and wore glasses.  “Alex, you said you were just going to scare her a little.  That was it!  What the hell are you doing!?”  He hissed the last part.

“What does it look like I’m doing?  I’m teaching this bitch a lesson.  Isn’t she into that Wicca shit? I heard people calling her a witch.  Maybe all this shit is because of her!  Maybe fucked up freaks like her ended the world!”

“Alex, I don’t think--” began the beer guy.  He had pimples and a wispy goatee.

“How about you guys quit worrying about about what I’m doing like a bunch of dickless faggots and do something about that zombie?  It’s almost reached us.”

“But I can’t use the rifle, right?”

“No, but we have baseball bats.  Fuck!  Figure something out!  I’m busy, but if you two decide to stop being queer, you can have a turn after me.”

The man with the rifle looked green around the gills, but Beer Guy seemed to get a glint in his eye.  He popped into the truck for a second and came out with a baseball bat.  Then he set down his beer bottle and walked toward Jake.  The man with the rifle was slowly approaching too.
Good, thought Jake.  This was going to require some precise timing, and maybe some luck.  The weird cultivation of monster cores that he’d done earlier had left him far better off than he had been before, but he was still a zombie.

It was a problem that a baseball bat or rifle could definitely kill him with a blow to the head, and even broken bones right now would be bad.  He could only move around normal walking speed as it was.

Jake’s reaction time was still pretty bad, so he focused as best he could while looking slightly off to one side, moaning, trying to act like a normal zombie.  He’d been betting on the fact that these fine specimens of humanity had already grown at least somewhat accustomed to low level monsters, otherwise they wouldn’t be out by the train tracks, proving that they didn’t deserve to live.

With that thought in mind, right as Beer Guy wound up to swing, Jake pulled his handgun from behind his back and shot him in the heart.  Beer Guy made a sound like he’d been kicked in the balls and dropped to the ground without ceremony.

It was almost comical how slow to react the other two were.  Rifle guy just stared, and the one they’d called Alex, the one on top of the girl, began to try pulling up his pants.  He was still kneeling, so it wasn’t working well.

Even though the shot would be tough, Jake prioritized Rifle Guy.  He knew he didn’t have too many rounds left, so he tried to aim as best he could, firing three times.

At least one connected.

The man screamed, and hot blood spattered the rocky ground when the bullet punched through his thigh.  It looked like another bullet had grazed his elbow.  Jake kept the pistol leveled, hoping that the guy would be stupid, and thankfully he was.  Rifle Guy unfortunately kept a grip on his weapon as he stumbled backwards, but he began to awkwardly run away, obviously pumped full of adrenaline.  Jake fired another shot after him, just to keep him moving.  Rifle guy was too far away now to reasonably hit with a pistol, at least while Jake was still a zombie.

Jake had to hope that Rifle Guy wouldn’t find some balls or brains before Jake was gone.  The entire reason he hadn’t shot Jake with the rifle before was because of the noise, but Jake was making plenty of it now.

He moved toward the struggling Alex, who had the sheer gall to plead, “No, please!”  

Before Purple Rain, Jake might have hesitated despite his disgust, but he felt almost nothing now.  He moved forward, smoother than he had before, and when he was close enough, his gun game up again.

Alex snarled and awkwardly stumbled towards him, grabbing for the gun, but Jake was leading with his other undead hand.  He managed to grab Alex.  Then he simply rested his pistol against the would-be rapist’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

As soon as he fired, or at least a second after the body hit the ground, he noticed a tiny, cloudy bit of light leave Alex’s body and rise upward, rushing toward Jake’s dantian.  This was really weird, but Jake didn’t have time to think about it.  The rumbling of the train behind him was a reminder that he had to move.

He wasn’t even sure if he had any more bullets in his pistol, so he pointed it in the general direction of the running Rifle Guy and intended to empty the magazine.

Nothing happened.

Wow.  He’d almost pulled the trigger on a click with Alex.  That might not have turned out so well.

Jake almost tossed the pistol, but had a change of heart.  The Springfield had served him well, and maybe he’d find some ammo for it later.  He stashed the pistol, and approached the girl.  With all the gun shots he’d just made, somebody or something was likely to show up, and if it were the latter, this girl was definitely going to die.

Jake could hear a gunshot and cursing from the direction Rifle Guy had gone.  It seemed the recent noise really had attracted monsters.  That meant Rifle Guy would probably be coming back once rational thought returned and he realized he’d left the truck.

As a fresh zombie, before he’d cultivated, Jake had been awkward, but still fairly strong.  In his improved form, he was not only more coordinated but stronger also even stronger.  He lifted the girl from the back of the truck, and moved back to the train at full speed.

This was going to be close.

The train was almost moving at a running clip now, and there were only a few more boxcars left.  Only one more was open, and it was two cars down.  Jake could hear howls of approaching ghouls, and the huffing of Rifle Guy as he limped back to the truck.  Hopefully he’d think Jake was trying to eat the girl or something, or wouldn’t have time to shoot.  As it was, Rifle guy probably wasn’t going to survive the approaching ghouls.

Jake didn’t even look around.  He had all of his attention on the approaching boxcar.  As soon as the open door was moving by, he threw the girl inside.  Since he was still so slow, there was barely any boxcar left when he unceremoniously threw himself inside as best he could.

The rear wall of the car hit him, and he heard something snap.  Maybe his lung had just been punctured, but he didn’t need to breathe, so he wasn’t sure.  It kind of didn’t matter.  What was more pressing was possibly falling out and being stranded in the middle of nowhere on the Georgia/Florida border.  Luckily, he had just enough of his upper body inside the car to have stayed inside through weight and friction.  His legs dangled outside.

As the train continued to speed up, the noise grew.  Jake carefully reached forward and put both cold hands on the metal ahead of him.  If he were to lever himself up, he would likely slide out of the car, and he didn’t have the dexterity or speed to get his feet up and inside.  He’d have to do this the hard way.

Jake pulled himself forward using the friction between his hands and the rattling floor of the box car.  It took a while until he could feel the balance change and knew he was safe.  Once he was inside, he looked back to see if any ghouls had followed them, but it looked like one was chasing the retreating truck and one was eating the men that Jake had just shot.

Good.

Now that he had a chance, Jake examined the girl.  Her clothes were all ripped up, but he didn’t want to set things right since he was still a zombie, and probably covered with nasty bacteria.

She looked like she was in her late teens, maybe a high school senior or a college freshman.  The girl was breathing shallowly, but luckily didn’t look like she had any serious injuries, just a scalp wound.  She was wearing almost all black, and had a pentagram necklace.  Her dark hair was shoulder length, and she wore little lacy glove things that didn’t look like they served any purpose other than decoration.  

He decided she was probably pretty, but it was a little hard to tell in her state of disarray and having passed out.  In his past life, Jake knew that his team’s tank, Landry, probably would have called her a “big tiddy goth chick.”     

Jake really wished he could make her decent, but decided she’d probably rather be a bit exposed than covered in zombie yuck.

With that in mind, he decided to prepare for when she woke up.  He hadn’t actually tried to communicate with a living person yet, and this might be a good chance to try.  Jake fished a permanent marker out of his pocket and wrote a simple message on the wall of the box car.

Then he sat down to look less threatening and waited.