He stepped out onto his front porch, wanting to check the weather. Gray clouds scattered in the sky were looking to soon hide the sun, and humidity in the air signaled that it might rain. But that didn’t matter to Jon. Depending on how hard it rained, he might wait to go out, but he would hunt today regardless.
Jon turned to head back inside. Leaves crumbled out in his yard, and he stopped.
“Hello?” a female voice asked.
Jon drew the gun from his waist and turned, pointing the weapon.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she raised her hands in the air. “I’m unarmed,” the woman said. “Do you remember me?”
He did.
6
Jon kept the gun fixed on the woman, aiming it between her green eyes. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, some bangs hanging in front of her face. The top three buttons of her red and white plaid shirt were open, a dirty white tank top underneath.
“Can you put the gun down?” she asked.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I just want to talk to you. You ran off yesterday before I got the chance.”
“Was it not obvious that I didn’t want to talk?”
She raised her voice, her palms facing Jon. “Please, just put down the gun so we can talk.”
Jon breathed steadily, looking down the sight of the gun. He sighed, lowering it.
“Thank you,” the woman said, exhaling.
“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.” Jon stuffed the gun back into his pants. “You’ve got two minutes before your ass is off my property, so say what you want to say.”
The woman approached the steps leading up to the porch. Jon put out his hand, signaling her to stop.
She said nothing, her eyes no longer on his face. Jon followed her gaze and realized she was staring at his bare chest and stomach. That she was gawking at his scars.
He sighed again, taking the shirt off his shoulder and putting it on.
“I-I’m sorry.” The woman extended her hand. “My name’s Brooke.”
Jon crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare at her.
“Okay,” Brooke said, retracting her hand and wiping her palms on the front of her jeans, likely in embarrassment. “Can I at least have your name?”
“Now, you’ve got one minute.”
“Look, you saved us yesterday. There’s no telling what those guys would have done to me and Terrence if you hadn’t shown up. You have to at least let me thank you.”
Jon put his hands out to the side and then into his pockets. “You just did. There you go.”
Brooke glanced down and bit her lip before looking up again. “We see you out there all the time. The people from my settlement are scared shitless of you. At first, we thought you were one of them. But I saw otherwise, and you proved yesterday you weren’t. But you’re always out there killing the infected. Why?”
“You said you thought I was one of them,” Jon said, ignoring Brooke’s last question. “Who is them?”
“The Vultures.”
Jon furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I don’t follow.”
“Those guys you killed yesterday, they were part of them. They’re from a nearby settlement. You haven’t heard of them?”
Jon shook his head.
“Jesus,” Brooke said. “You really do keep to yourself up here.”
“Who are they?”
“They started out as just a biker gang before the world fell to shit. But as things fell around here, and they started to take over. They came and threatened us, killing some of our people and threatening to do a lot more if we didn’t comply with their demands.”
“Demands?”
Brooke put her hands on her waist. She turned her head, clearly holding back emotion.
“We basically work for them. No, screw that.” Brooke’s voice raised, anger littering her voice. “We are slaves to them. They make us guarantee a certain amount of supplies. Food, clothing, medicine… everything we need to survive. And the number always changes. Sometimes they demand more than other times. But they own us.”
“That’s no way to live.”
“No kidding. It’s not the kind of world I want for my—”
Whatever Brooke was thinking at that moment was what made her eyes finally well up. She wiped the tears away, drawing in a deep breath as she stopped crying.
Jon asked, “Those guys yesterday… is that normal?”
Brooke shook her head. “Their leader would probably be pissed if he knew that had happened, actually. They aren’t supposed to lay a finger on us unless provoked, and Terrence and I had done no such thing. Those two were acting on their own.”
“You should be more careful.” Jon stood up straight and crossed his arms again. “I’ve given you more than two minutes. Now, if you will excuse me.” He turned his back to Brooke and reached for the doorknob.
“Would you be willing to help us?”
Jon looked down at his shoes and shook his head. “It’s time for you to go.”
Brooke stepped forward, her feet landing on the wooden steps leading up to his porch. “At least come and talk with the others in my camp. Maybe if you can see with your own eyes how bad it is, then you’ll be compelled to change your mind.”
Jon glanced over his shoulder. “Nothing is going to get me caught up in the middle of some stupid power struggle.”
“It isn’t a power struggle. It’s enslavement.” Brooke walked up to the next step. “And what happens when the Vultures show up on your doorstep? You don’t think they know you’re here?”
“That’s when they die.”
Brooke scoffed. “You can’t take out an entire gang of maniacs by yourself.”
Jon looked back toward the door, taking his eyes off of Brooke. He grabbed the doorknob again and pushed forward. “Don’t come back,” he said to her. “I might accidentally pull the trigger next time.”
Jon stepped through the door, shutting it behind him. He locked it and put his forehead against it, listening as Brooke kicked the wooden banister and shuffled off through the leaves, away from his
