Apocalypse: The Savior with System

12 Anti-Rahu

After dusting himself and then surreptitiously assessing if Judith had been shot, Paul hopped off the tank, helping her slide forward.

“What are the chances you’ve even just slightly wounded our assassin,” Paul muttered, helping Judith down the tank and onto the ground.

“High,” Rahu said tersely, already on the ground and scowling in the direction where the shots had come from. “But we’re not investigating that now. I suggest we start walking and find temporary shelter, preferably transport.”

“And food,” Paul added, returning the carbine to Rahu. When Rahu refused the gun, Paul nodded to the afternoon sky. “Plenty of sunlight for me, man. I’ll be fine.”

Nodding, Rahu led the way forward, stumbling a little but refusing Paul’s help.

“Got a lot of pride, that one,” Paul remarked to Judith. “Say, Doc. Ever held a gun before?”

“Never,” Judith answered quickly. “But it seems I might have to learn with you and Rahu Knight around.”

Paul made an offended face. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Judith said nothing and walked on. Paul huffed and followed after her, him and Rahu flanking her like her bodyguards. When Rahu decided to scout ahead of them, Paul said to Judith, “What’s your beef with Rahu, eh?”

When Judith remained stone silent, Paul nudged her playfully. “C’mon, Doc! Lighten up, will ya? Okay, we’re in the middle of nowhere chased after by flesh-eating ex-people and by actual people with guns but we’re surviving, right? And Rahu’s a good man—“

“I find it curious that someone with your history can still find it in himself to be so trusting,” she said under her breath.

Becoming annoyed, Paul held her slightly back with a hand to her arm until their distance from Rahu widened. “My history is my history, Doctor Merkel,” he said gravely, looking her in the eye. “I don’t look at other people with how my life went. Maybe Rahu’s not been the good guy for a long time but that time is over now. I found the man half-dead and seen what he can do with the strength he’s left with. He’s never failed me.”

“You saved his life, of course, he’d be loyal,” she countered. “Rahu Knight cannot be trusted. He’s a war criminal, an unethical businessman, and an outlaw! What he’s done with his life and what he’s done to the institute in exchange for that life is a crime!”

Paul let her go, feeling very disappointed. “I should throw your question back at you, Doc. Curious that someone with your history can still find it in yourself to trust your rules. You don’t even know who wanted to have you killed back there! And, why! Or, do you actually know and you’re just too scared to break your own self-righteous rules to tell us the truth!”

With a sound of disgust, Paul walked away, hurrying to catch up to Rahu. It was ungentlemanly, he knew, but if he stayed closer to the good doctor, he was afraid he might strangle her.

None of them talked to each other for a good long while after that heated exchange. Paul was in such a snit that he even forgot he was hungry. It wasn’t until the sun began setting that he realized he and his companions have had nothing to eat or drink for many, many hours already. Judging by the pallor on Rahu’s grim countenance, Paul knew his friend could collapse from hunger and exhaustion at any moment. As for the Doctor—

He had been glancing back every now and then to check on her despite his frustration. Earlier he’d asked for one of Rahu’s pistols and ran back to where she’d been walking a safe distance from them. He handed her the gun saying with a curt voice, “It’s loaded and primed. Just pull on the trigger if you have to.”

“You trust me with a gun right behind you?” she challenged.

Paul sneered. “If you decide to shoot, make it count. A bullet in the head is far better than being eaten by a zombie after all.”

Rahu suddenly stopped and pointed. At the side of the road was a gray sedan, doors wide open and looking like it had been abandoned for quite some time. Both men ran towards the car only to rear back. Inside were the decaying corpses of a man and woman.

“Don’t look like zombies to me,” Rahu observed, reaching towards the body of the male driver and pulling him out. Bodily fluids with the stench of a thousand dumpsites dripped onto the leather seat. Paul gagged but he still helped Rahu lift the female corpse out, taking care not to soil their own clothes with her own decay juices.

“I’m no sissy but I don’t think I can endure a long ride in this thing smelling like we housed zombies in here for a week,” Paul complained. “C’mon. Let’s just tear the leather away. That could help.”

Using one of Rahu’s knives, Paul tore at the leather seating and the floor matting. With the soiled surfaces gone, the car smelled better.

“Okay, now to see if this thing actually works.” Paul inspected the engine and the tank.

“It’s a little over a half-tank full. Can we reach your place with this much?” He gave Rahu the coordinates of their present location and Rahu nodded.

“It’s enough to get us to the perimeter,” Rahu said, getting into the passenger seat. Paul knew that was Rahu’s way of asking him to drive so that he won’t have to actually ask. Rahu was obviously getting weaker. They needed to find food and shelter fast. Paul motioned to Judith to get into the backseat but she moved instead to the driver’s side and sat behind the wheel.

“Get in,” she said, starting the engine. “I’ll drive and you can take care of any problems we encounter along the way.”

Paul and Rahu shrugged at each other. “A good idea.”

They haven’t gone a few miles in the car when Paul saw something a short distance from the road. He tapped Judith’s shoulder to stop the car and he peered outside the window at a large crowd of people gathered outside a cabin-type structure.

“What’s that?” he asked softly so as not to wake the sleeping Rahu.

Judith squinted through her eyeglasses and made a small sound in her throat. “I think that’s the Hands of Freedom.”

“What’s that? A cult or something?”

Judith shook her head. “It’s a government program launched two years ago but it’s been going on in other places years before we started doing it here. When the people found out, riots began. So the government had to adopt the program to appease everyone. They give out free meals to sufferers kept out of safe zones three fixed times a day.”

Paul’s face lit up. “Well, that’s just our luck! There’s free food!” He shook Rahu awake. “My friend, we’ve just found food! C’mon before the line gets longer!”

All three passengers left the car and went to the queue. It was quite a long one. The people were organized and the guards in hazmats guiding the sufferers stayed a short distance away simply observing. Many minutes later, however, a commotion broke at the front of the line.

“What’s going on?” asked Judith, unable to see with her short height.

“I can lift you on my shoulders, if you want,” Paul found himself teasing.

“Being short is not a disability, you know,” Judith snapped.

Rahu snorted. Paul grinned sheepishly. “I think my humor’s lost on you, Doc.”

“Hm,” Judith muttered absentmindedly. She stepped out of the line and began walking to the front. Paul grabbed her arm to stop her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going to see what all the fuss is about,” she explained, shaking his handoff. “The quicker the problem gets resolved, the quicker we get our food. The fight is delaying us.”

Paul found himself chuckling. “Hell hath no fury than a hungry woman, huh?”

Judith winced. “I think you’ve messed up your Shakespeare there.”

“No, I meant it exactly that way, Doc,” he added with a naughty grin. “Let me do the checking, alright? Stay here on this spot if you don’t want to see let alone smell Rahu.” With a cheeky salute, Paul walked to the front of the line and found a middle-aged official in a hazmat suit berating an old woman.

“Excuse me, sir, what seems to be the problem?” Paul asked politely. Said official swiveled its plastic and nylon protected face towards him. A few people behind the old woman pointed their fingers at the official and began complaining.

“He wouldn’t give her food because she doesn’t have a claim stub!”

“A claim stub?”

Uh-oh. What the heck is a claim stub? Does this mean we wouldn’t get food without one? But I’m so hungry!

“A claim stub!” another younger woman who looked like she was well on her way to Phase 3 yelled.

“But the government stopped giving out those stubs a month ago!” someone else complained. “Where will we get those stubs from?!”

The official blared out through a megaphone. “Rules are rules! No stub, no food! And you, step away from the line!” He grabbed the old woman by the collar and pushed her away.

Pushing other people can sometimes be necessary. Pushing a defenseless, sick, and old woman was in no way going to be necessary let alone be acceptable to Paul. Without compunction, Paul pushed the hazmat official away, sending the aggrieved man to the ground.

“You don’t treat the sick, the elderly, and women like that, you asshole! We’re also people and we’re still alive!” Paul growled, pulling the official up by the suit’s neck.

The official started fighting against Paul and screamed, “Guards! Guards!”

A team of soldiers suddenly materialized and started for Paul. Fully armed and shielded soldiers ready to dispose of them all. Paul swallowed, eyes darting towards Rahu whose hands were already positioned on his carbines and Judith who looked very, very disappointed.

Oh, s**t.