“You don’t mind, do you?” Judah asked, putting one into his mouth and lighting it before Jon could even think about replying. He took the first drag and then pushed the smoke out into the air, letting out a relieved gasp afterward. “I’m glad this isn’t a habit of mine. These fucking things are sure hard to come by. But you know, it’s just nice to have one now and then.”
Jon’s vision slowly returned, the center version of Judah coming more into focus. The pain hadn’t subsided, and wouldn’t for a while, but he could manage this much. It wouldn’t be long before he never felt pain again.
“Anyways, I just wanted to come check and see how you’re doing. I have to say, you are one tough bastard.” Judah took another drag. “I’ll admit that I thought the whole ‘bad motherfucker’ gimmick was nothing more than an act when you walked into my house. But no, you really are a hardened son of a bitch. It’s no wonder those folks at Hope’s Dawn wanted to keep you a secret. And I guess it’s why I’m about to do what I’m going to do.”
Judah reached into his pocket again, and Jon watched for him to pull out a knife or a gun. This was going to be it, the end of his life. But the insane cult leader drew neither. Instead, he had a towel. Keeping the cigarette pressed between his lips, he leaned in and wiped down Jon’s face. It stung, and Jon gritted his teeth to hold in a howl. His pride continued to haunt him, and he couldn’t even find the space in this physical state to scream. When he was done, Judah threw the now crimson-stained towel onto the ground and took another drag of the cigarette.
“There, you look much better.” He sat back in the chair again. “Now, listen, I’m a reasonable guy. I know that might be hard to imagine, what with how the last couple of days have been for you, but you have to understand the position I’m in here. Still, I want to make you an offer.”
The blur had mostly gone away, and Jon could see Judah more clearly now. He wore a bandage over his broken nose and had a buttoned-up black shirt tucked into the same dark cargo pants he’d been wearing before. He finished the cigarette, tossing it down onto the concrete and putting it out with his boot in Jon’s blood. Then he looked back up into Jon’s face.
“I want you to join us.”
Jon heard Judah, but the words didn’t immediately register. They hung in the air before Judah continued.
“You’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever met. We could use you around here. You can walk beside me as my number two in charge. I’m not going to find anyone else like you.” Judah snorted a laugh. “Hell, I might even let you have a room in that big ol’ house of mine. That’d be pretty nice, wouldn’t it?”
Barely able to keep himself upright, Jon gasped for air as he continued to stare into Judah’s face. He’d registered what the man had said, but was so stunned that he didn’t know how to respond.
“I know you can’t talk,” Judah said. “So, maybe just give me a wink or a nod to let me know it sounds good to you. Do that, and we’ll get you out of here. We can get you cleaned up in a nice bath and take you over to see our doctor. You’ll be good in just a few days. So, what do you say?”
Jon breathed, not letting his eyes off of Judah as he looked for the words. He summoned the strength, knowing it was all he was going to be able to say.
“G-go… fuck… y-yourself.”
Judah kept his eyes focused on Jon for another moment before lowering his head to the ground. He shook it, running his hand over his bald head. Then he stood up and moved in next to Jon, who didn’t bother to look up at him.
“You’re a stubborn man, Savage,” Judah said with a spiteful tone in his voice. “But it’s going to be a waste to watch you hang tomorrow.”
Judah then kicked Jon in the arm, sending him back down onto the ground.
Jon lay on his stomach, his eyes closed and his cheek pressed against the cold concrete. The door slammed as Judah left, and no one else came into the room.
In almost no time, Jon passed out.
33
602 Days After the Outbreak
Jon remained hidden in the tall grass, not too concerned that he hadn’t spotted any animals in the three hours or so he’d been out in the woods hunting. He just didn’t want to be at home.
A part of him felt selfish about feeling this way. A big part. But it was a side of him that he’d learned to ignore. For months, he’d been the one keeping things level around the house. And the only thing that prevented him from snapping were these walks out into the woods to hunt.
The quarantining in the cabin had taken its toll on his family. Nearly two years of seeing nothing but the walls around them and each other had made the three of them irritable, affecting their mental health. But Jon at least had these moments to hunt, and it was
