There’s No Place Like Home - Michael Robertson Page 0,63
okay? You look pale.”
At George mentioning it, Michael suddenly felt pale. “Don’t look now, but I think there’s someone on the other side of the wall watching me. They’ve been there for a while.”
“Do they know you’ve seen them?”
Michael gave a sharp shake of his head.
When George frowned and looked past him, Michael hissed, “I said don’t look.”
George turned back to the sink and continued washing up. Impatience added a bite to his words. “What should I do then?”
“I’m coming in here for a drink. Once I’ve had that drink, I’ll go back outside and sow some more seeds. I’ll pretend I don’t know they’re there, and while I’m doing that, you sneak around the other side and jump ’em.”
“Them?”
“There may be two. But I don’t think there are any more.”
George continued scrubbing and his voice dropped lower when he said, “Okay, I can do that.”
Trade
Michael trembled as he dug the next small trench in the garden. There could be more than two people on the other side of the wall. The others could be holding back. They might jump George and kill him.
Before Michael’s panic gathered steam, he heard George walk around the corner, his deep voice booming out. “Oi, you. What the fuck are you doing, you fucking pervert?”
A man’s voice replied, strained and high-pitched. “No, it’s not like that. Honest.”
The heavy thud sounded like a fist connecting with some part of the man’s body. Then a sharp wheeze followed by another thud as the man evidently hit the ground.
George called over the wall. “It’s okay, Michael, I’ve got him.”
***
George had strapped the man to a high-backed chair. Just looking at him took Michael back to being with Julius in the warehouse. But what else could they do? Who knew what this man was capable of?
The face didn’t match Michael’s image of the man. When he’d seen the black hair and bald patch, he’d expected someone older. But this man had a round, boyish look. He appeared to be fit too; like he exercised.
George had a kitchen knife in his hand, the shiny blade as long as his forearm. He stepped toward the man and pointed it at him. “What the fuck were you doing outside our house?”
When George moved the tip of the blade forward so it was only a hair’s width away from the man’s eyeball, the man responded, addressing the knife rather than George. “I’m not a pervert, honest. It’s not like that.”
“Well, you best start telling me what the fuck it is like before I fuck you up. I’m tired of other people’s bullshit. I have no fucking patience left for it.”
George gripped the blade so tightly his hand shook. It looked like it took all of his resolve to refrain from plunging it directly into the man’s eye. The man knew it too.
“I’m… I’m… from another community. We’re not hostile—”
“I’ve heard that before.”
The man’s breaths quickened and he continued watching the blade.
Just watching him made Michael’s lungs tight. He seemed legit. Touching George’s muscled arm, Michael gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let the man talk, George.”
When George turned to the man again, he nodded. “If you’re telling the truth, this could work out well for you. We want to make contact with other survivors. We’re looking for allies.”
“What are allies?” Michael said.
George and the man both looked at him and his face grew hot.
The man finally spoke. “Friends, son. I saw you guys planting seeds and thought you’d be interested in trading with us.”
“And this is when you tell me you want the boy, yeah?”
A hard frown crushed the man’s soft features, and he shook his head as if George’s suggestion had left a bad taste in his mouth. “No. I’ve told you, we’re nothing like those horrible bastards roaming the city. We want to rebuild society. To do that, we have to behave in a civilized way.”
“So why would we want to start trading with you?”
“I thought you said you needed allies?”
“We do, but we’re not desperate. So why should we get involved with your community?” Before the man could respond, George, who still had his knife raised, said, “Look, I have a boy with me. A boy who’s seen more shit than an eleven-year-old should ever see. I need to make sure that any decision I make doesn’t threaten his existence. So tell me; what benefits are there in us getting involved with your community?”
“I think alliances are long-term thinking,” the man said. “If we want to survive for years rather