Life After the Undead (Completed)

PART 3: The Mad Scientist .4

Jack's P.O.V.

Three days after Silas went into the Shady Mansion and never came back Godrick came back to the bar with Silas' red bandana. He couldn't tell me how he got it or what exactly happened, all he knew was that Silas was dead, Evelyn couldn't give them a body back and the position of leader was now open.

I had allowed a moment's silence and an hour to grieve before I took over control of the 401 division of the Drifters.

The first move I made was to gain the trust of all the men. I started by using that hour of grieving to throw a big party in honor of Silas. While I was at it I threw around promises to be a kinder, smarter leader than my predecessor. By lunch I already had the support of most of the men, and our healer, Mina.

Mina was the key to it, everyone knew that with Mina still mad at Silas her methods of curing were skewed and often violent, like she wouldn't mind healing someone so long as they suffered like her friends had. Mina liked me, meant that she would work better, wouldn't be so violent with the boys, so long as she felt I was treating her right. That unfortunately meant that I had to keep the little liaison with her going even though I had lost all interest in her. I had my one little fling, I was ready to move on, but she wanted more and I wanted her to treat us better so I was just going to have to deal with it right now. At least the sex was good.

The second move I made was to re-secure all of our contacts and suppliers. I had checked all of our important ones, the farm where we got our food, the Carnal Circus where we sometimes got our entertainment but really I went there to make sure our truce was still in place. I went to Biocom to make sure that our power would stay on and our deliveries of water would continue and lastly to the brewery for our beer and alcohol.

That was where I came across the first problem.

Michael Morton, the man in charge of the brewery, was a thin, skinny jean wearing, tattoo sporting, mustache twirling man. He wore deep v-neck shirts and pouncey scarves, and kept his blonde hair slicked back. He was the only living definition of the old age Hipsters from before the apocalypse. He was a nice enough man except when I walked into his brewery he looked at me like I was a ghost.

"I don't work with Drifters anymore, not after what Silas did to my last warehouse!" he had cried.

I understood that sentiment fully. Silas had decided that he deserved more alcohol for saving Michael from a zombie so he had raided the warehouse, took everything inside and set the place on fire. Probably one of the stupidest moves Silas had ever made. Obviously Michael had said he'd never service us again but Godrick had been bringing in our shipment of alcohol bi-weekly for almost five months now.

I had tried to explain that to him but all Michael had said was that he didn't work with Drifters and no Drifters had been in or allowed anywhere near his warehouses in over half a year.

I left, deciding it would be better not to argue and went in search of Godrick. I found him smoking with the others, hand rolled cigarettes he swore he'd never get addicted to. Clearly that was a lie, something he apparently did often.

"We need to talk," I said gruffly, pulling the younger boy up. I lead him away from the group and then forced him to look me in the eye. He had a nervous look about him and I knew immediately that there was something going on. I was honestly probably over reacting about this, but he and I had always been close for guys, it hurt that he would lie to me.

I put my hands on my hips and stared down at him as sternly as I could. "I'm going to give you a chance to be truthful. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Godrick blinked his eyes and slowly shook his head. I bit back a growl of disappointment.

I said curtly: "That man doesn't do business with Drifters, where have you been getting the alcohol?"

Godrick sucked in a deep breath, not of surprise, but of resignation. He ran a hand through his messy golden hair and sighed out a forlorn: "You're not going to like the answer."

"Try me," I growled back.

"Evelyn."

I was stunned by that answer. I had no idea that Godrick had even known her let alone knew her well enough to have her picking up the alcohol for him. I could use this.

As if reading my mind Godrick explained. "She owed me a favour, so I'd get her to pick it up and then I'd meat with her somewhere to trade for it."

"You know her well?" I asked.

Godrick shook his head. "Not really. I mean we meet sometimes, and if we're heading in the same direction we'll go together but that's it. As I said, I helped her once and she owed me. That's all."

"Where's our shipment now?" I wondered. "Did she pick it up already?"

Godrick nodded, looking up at me with hooded eyes. "Yes... and that's the problem."

"Why is that a problem?" I asked with sigh.

"After Silas attacked her I went to her house. It's why I got the bandana back. She's refusing to give it to me. Says she won't help people who can't keep their boundaries straight."

I swore loudly and took a step back. I looked him up and down and asked the most important question on my mind.

"Where is Evelyn now?"