Those words bounced around in Jon’s head precisely because he had nothing keeping him going. His family was gone, and he had no other purpose in this world. It was why he’d spent most of his days out bashing the heads of zombies lately, unable to admit to himself that he’d be better off if he lost to them one of these times.
“Please reconsider racing out of here,” Brooke said. “At least wait and let me introduce you to a few people I think you should meet. We’ll tell you what we know about the Vultures, and you can make your own decision from there. But at least let us warn you first.”
Jon considered the request, thinking about how the people from the camp had saved him twice now. Though too stubborn to admit it out loud, he figured he at least owed them an audience.
“Alright,” he said. “Get them together, and I’ll finish up here and return these tools.”
“Great.” Brooke smiled. “I’ll gather them, and you can meet us at 118 in twenty minutes.”
Jon nodded. “I’ll be there.”
20
Jon walked through the settlement feeling the eyeballs on him. A couple of dozen people outside watched him, though many still tried to make it look like they weren’t. Jon glanced to his right, making eye contact with a woman and her son standing in front of a tent. A split second after he looked their way, the woman put her arm around her son and retreated inside the tent.
After that, he kept his eyes forward until he got to house number 118. Brooke approached the storm door and opened it as Jon stepped up onto the patio.
“Come on in.”
Jon nodded.
When he entered, two men stood up from a sofa in the living room. One was probably in his mid-50s with a head of gray hair. The other was a Hispanic guy who appeared to be around Jon’s age.
“You must be Jon,” the gray-haired man said. “I’m Garrett.”
Jon shook Garrett’s hand and then turned to the other man.
“Hola, amigo. My name’s Hugo.”
“Good to meet you, Hugo. Garrett.”
“Please,” Garrett said, gesturing toward the living room. “Come sit with us.”
Moving into the living room, Jon sat in a wooden chair, allowing Brooke to take the more comfortable recliner. Hugo and Garrett returned to their respective spots on the couch.
Jon settled into the chair, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. He searched the faces of the other three people in the room, waiting to see who would speak first. He only knew it wasn’t going to be him.
“Thank you for coming,” Brooke said to Jon, breaking the silence before turning to the other two men. “Jon’s had a rough couple of days.”
“We’ve heard,” Garrett said.
“Apologies for that, my friend,” Hugo said.
“It’s nothing you all did. But thank you for letting me come into your camp while I get back on my feet.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Garrett said, leaning forward. “You know, I don’t know if you know this, but you’ve earned yourself quite the reputation.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t tell by the way people out there were looking at me.”
“We don’t mean to offend you,” Hugo said.
“We’ve just seen you out there in the fields and in the woods before,” Brooke said. “Word spreads fast around these parts.”
Jon said nothing and focused on nothing.
“I ain’t here to find out why you’re bashing in the heads of all those zombies,” Garrett said. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s your goddamn business. But what I do know is that we could use a man with your kinds of skills around here.”
“Yeah?” Jon shrugged. “And what kind of skills are you talking about?”
“Doing what it takes to survive,” Garrett said. “You know how to navigate the world out there. We could use someone like you who can lead our teams out into the field. To scavenge. To hunt.”
“You mean to gather shit to give to those assholes who burned down my cabin?”
Garrett frowned, leaning back into the couch cushion. Brooke looked down at her hands while the two men avoided Jon’s gaze.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
“It’s what we have to do to live,” Hugo said.
Jon lifted the corner of his mouth and shook his head. “If that’s your idea of living, then I want nothing to do with it. Being a slave ain’t living.”
“It’s what we have to do to survive,” Garrett said through gritted teeth.
“But why does it have to be?” Brooke asked. The three men turned to her as she stood. “Why do we have to let them keep controlling us the way they are?”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”
Hugo rubbed the back of his neck. “You know that’s out of the question, Brooke.”
“But why? It’s not like the Vultures heavily outnumber us. Can either of you two give me a reason why it’s out of the question.”
“Because we don’t have the people here who can stop them. We might match their numbers, but most of our people aren’t fighters.”
All eyes focused on Jon. Brooke’s lips parted as she tilted her head. Jon shrugged, staring into her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I just don’t know how you’re going to be able to defend yourselves against them. Not with the people I’ve seen around your camp. And do you all even have any weapons?”
Brooke’s cheeks turned red. She crossed her arms, glancing at the wall so that she didn’t have to look at Jon while she breathed heavily.
“That is exactly what we’ve been saying,” Garrett said. “The survival of Hope’s Dawn relies on our willingness to serve the Vultures. I’ll never pretend like it’s the best way to live, but at least we are alive.”
“Maybe good enough for you,” Brooke said. “But not good enough for me. Not good enough for my son.”
“Your child is exactly the reason why you need to quit dreaming up some sort of revolution.”
Brooke narrowed her eyes, boring holes through Garrett. “Don’t you
