Remedy Z: Solo (35 page)

“Thanks beautiful,” I smiled with a genuine thanks. I did notice she still had a gold heart with encrusted gems on her chest. It was on a gold chain and looked expensive. I felt better knowing she hadn’t given me her only trinket. She got up and got back to her tea and biscuits.

Jen was clearly hungry and wolfed down a couple of biscuits before I spoke again. “So tell me,” I wanted to start gently but find out more about what had happened at the Alamo. “You shot that zombie back at Tantangara? Was it you standing there while I was KO’d?” I asked smiling. She looked a little reserved in her response “Yes, I had been following you and watching you for a few days. I was looking for another survivor,” she said. It was as intriguing a story as she was a woman. 

“Thanks again,” I said, with a brief pause as I looked her in the eye for authenticity, “for saving me.” I nodded and looked at her with some conviction and emotion. She held the gaze and smiled back warmly. “You’re welcome,” was her genuine and warm reply.

“So why did you leave me there? I may not have survived? Would we have been better off together, working as a team?” I asked a hard question in a friendly enough way. “Perhaps,” she said, looking away as she sipped some more tea. “The other guy there at the Tantangara shops had attacked me a few days before,” she continued, now looking me in the eye. “A woman has to be very careful with who she approaches and who she trusts.” Jennifer stated, returning her gaze and smile to me. It was a little bit of a warning as much as a rationale. 

“Anyhow, I didn’t want to see you die but wanted to know more before approaching.” She smiled and looked down at her teacup. “Besides, I didn’t know how many more zombies would come. I had to get out of there. You’re a survivor too right?” she looked me in the eye and I nodded, thinking back on the Samurai.

Jennifer was doing her best to make things clear for me. Her motivations seemed genuine. “I watched you go up to the farmhouse over the hill and I watched that battle with…them.” she looked a little grave. “You really did a number on them.” She widened her eyes and shook her head slowly. “You knew Maeve and her squad?” I asked sitting forward and a little excited. She looked shocked, almost embarrassed for a moment. “No, I didn’t.” She said. I felt it an odd answer and there was something there, recognition, but it was too early to pry more on this. “OK. So you saw me battle the neo-zombies, led by a woman called Maeve, who you don’t know. But in that battle, out of that battle you knew you could trust me? How does that work?” I was trying to make the connection that led her here and into my world. “Yes, well I let my shotgun off there and saved your arse again. Maeve, that man-woman, stopped to look and then you shot her. What are you getting at?” Her eyes narrowed and she looked uneasy and annoyed. “And Neo Zombies? What are they?” Jennifer was uncomfortable.

“Well, they are people who are somehow treating themselves, keeping the virus at bay.” I said frankly. “How do you know this?” she asked, looking alarmed. “I did an autopsy on one of Maeve’s people.” She looked further taken-aback. Her look turned into shock as I described the basic autopsy I had done and early conclusions and observations on the zombie phenomenon. “So people are really just suffering some sort of spinal infection? Who would have thought?” she said smiling, changing the subject. “Can I have another cup?” she looked at me expectantly. “As much as you want,” was the reply. I poured her a sultry cup of calm and conversation and added some powdered milk.  

Jen sipped her tea and then looked into the fire, addressing something that had troubled her. “But Jesse; Neo-zombies? That’s not very nice. Aren’t they just survivors trying to survive? They may not have been nice people but aren’t they people?” Jennifer seemed affronted that I would call anyone who hadn’t turned a zombie a “neo-zombie”. It seemed strange to me that she would defend something that was such a big threat. She had seen as much. 

“Did you ever meet any of these sorts of zombies?” I asked. “A loaded question,” she sipped her tea and reasoned with me in a very intelligent way. 

“Zombies: yes. Human survivors, yes. Neo-zombies, no, because there aint such a thing,” she looked a little reproving at me and set me on her view of what was right. She was going to call infected people who had not turned “survivors”.

“So how do they get infected and not turn into slavering, shambling zombies?“ I asked assertively. She shook her head; “I don’t know”, came her reply, as her gaze focused on the fire. 

There was another pause as we took in the entertainment of the fire and the warm, soothing tea. Both of us sat there, trying to relax together but with the occasional sigh.

Jen spoke again, almost whispering, telling me something she hadn’t told anyone else before. “I had been hiding out in Cooleman and saw a group. They just seemed like survivors who I could trade with and I didn’t spend too much time with them. They weren’t good to me Jesse, they are dangerous people” She looked down and I could sense emotion welling in her. “I know,” I said to her. “I’ve faced a few of them now.” We both nodded. “To hell with them and to us,” I took a high-ground and we toasted  tea-cups, smiling a little awkwardly.

My gut told me something was not right but my heart didn’t want to know. Jen continued, looking down sadly and not making eye-contact with me. “Being alone as a woman, it’s safer not to let your guard down.” She was looking forlorn and miserable as she considered her journey to my home. So I changed the subject. 

“I hope you were able to find some food in here.” The statement was really asking how she had gotten on in my absence. Her mood changed and she perked up again. 

“Your garden is great! There were some apples and plums, some potatoes too. The cellar had so much meat, and wine! I hope you don’t mind? I’ve been eating like a queen!” She looked a little embarrassed. I smiled; “No, not at all. I’m glad you have been able to eat well for a change. That sort of food is hard to come by, speaking from experience.” I said. “Tell me about it…” she said. There was an awkward moment, but just a moment before things went famously.

The next half hour was a chat about food, glorious food and sweet indulgences. It seemed as though Jen was reasonably good at scavenging and eating off the land. Her tales of making something out of nothing were amazing. While this was the case, I was surprised just how good a condition she was in. I figured the last couple of days of eating at my place had helped.

Evidently not fussy about food, Jen told me she liked almost all cuisines. She said she really had to, working in Cafés, restaurants and in the hotel, in various places around the world.

Jen said that she especially liked Italian food, as did I, and particularly liked homemade pizzas and pastas. “I have fresh herbs growing and hope to have a harvest of tomatoes, zucchinis and garlic,” I said. “The dream is that the olive grove will provide olives to make oil and preserved olives one day. I’m just learning but hope you can enjoy the harvest with me.” I said. That made her smile, almost blush and she returned the enthusiasm with the comment: “I would KILL for good seafood pasta.” “Consider it a date!” I said. That was a mission for me; a romantic dinner with a pasta that featured trout and olive oil

As we talked and got to know each other, Jen opened up a bit more. She described a rough time about a year prior when she was forced to trade with what we assumed were the Doc’s people in Cooleman. She said she was stuck there and had to barter with the “squads” in Cooleman. This, it would seem, were the same people that were with Maeve and the group I had topped up at my home. She was sketchy on details and kept trying to change the subject. We moved on.

I still sought many more answers from her, her whole story, but I figured there would be plenty of time. But the day was drawing to a close and a couple of hours could still be spent being useful. 

“Hey Jen,” I said a little upbeat. “While it is still daylight, do you want to help me with a project that will mean a whole lot of good things?” I was excited like a kid and I wanted to share it. She caught my viral enthusiasm and sat up, cross-legged, leaning forward with anticipation. When she heard about the solar and wind power system, she almost leapt out of her skin at the thought of “a hot shower”. “A hot shower?! That would be great!” She said. “Let’s get into it!” We went outside and began on our first joint venture.

Although Jen claimed to be a failure with tools, without a technical bone in her body, she proved herself wrong. She proved that through enthusiasm and some natural talent and experience, she was more than capable. I was very impressed as she had techniques with tools that came with years of experience. With a screwdriver she would ensure enough pressure so it wouldn’t slip and gave a rhythm and technique to using a ratchet worthy of a mechanic. If I didn’t know any better, Jen was more than experienced with tools than she was letting on. 

That work was a great bonding experience. She was my constant companion and followed my instructions and the schema that had been drafted, to the letter. She was more meticulous and intelligent than I had picked a waitress to be. She knew voltages, current, resistance and other concepts: but I loved it.  I was beginning to love this woman. It was way too early to say “love” but things were different since the Change. People, survivors, didn’t have time to waste being unsure about things, I was learning that you just had to go with things. If there was a spark, there was a spark and it needed to turn into something greater.

What was happening between us reminded me of stories about people in wartime. We were kind of in a war against the zombies and we never knew if one day was our last. Neither of us had time to take things too slowly and I would find that everything would become clearer that night. We had met under strange circumstances and we had forged something special already; a little team with a little hope. She was the beginning of my mission for the region and its people, also my mission in life.

We worked on and worked to complement each other, assembling the gantries and panels for the solar array. As we worked and helped each other do things better, I felt our teamwork was more than just two people working. We were smiling, laughing and connecting. It felt natural and right. Amongst the backdrop of a world that was so unnatural and wrong, Jen made me feel human again.

With two sets of skilled hands, we were smashing it.  We worked through into the evening, taking a few breaks to drink fresh mountain water from the water tank. Our smiles and willingness to help each other to the common goal reflected an immediate, implied partnership.

After retiring to our separate beds, we said very little but “goodnight”. Our smiles said far more. We both woke the next day with energy that we had not felt in years. After a quick breakfast and cup of tea we were bursting to complete our project. Again, we worked into the night and over the next two days. By the end of it, we had amazing results. We had power, but moreover, we knew each other’s parents’ names, favourite colours, the names of our childhood crushes, middle names and birthdays. It was the 3rd degree but without any burns.

Our ability to work together, to problem-solve and share resulted in a full-scale, independent power system for all the houses in my little community. We had the arrays mounted, batteries in the shed, inverter connected, concrete bases for the windmills, windmills rotating and smiles on our faces. 

“So, this is it,” I looked at Jen as the light faded with the setting sun. “No, it’s the beginning,” she smiled at me with more meaning than the power system. “We have plenty of light left and a mild wind to get some juice out of it.” She was either an eternal optimist or knew more of renewable power systems than I realised. “You’re probably right,” I said. Jen smiled back eagerly and nodded for me to start the system up. “No, no, you can press it, Lady Luck.” I offered her the first flick of the mains-switch in the gloom of the shed that was getting progressively darker as the sun retreated. She looked apprehensively, closed her eyes and tripped the switch. Lights came on and the inverter was indicating power was going through the mains and into the batteries. We looked at each other and screamed, delivering a series of “Woohoo” and “Yeah!”

We were jumping around like a sporting team that had won a grand final match. We hugged and kept jumping around a little longer.

Like kids on a Christmas morning, we ran inside to see something magical. We found a fully-powered-up home with lights, appliances, hot water, refrigeration and climate control! The power of power was immeasurable: we had returned to the hope for a better world and memories of better times. 

Jen and I cooked on the stovetop in the kitchen and a meal of herbed venison, red wine jus and potato mash with garlic and parsley. Just as with the technical project we shared outside, Jen was great to work with in the kitchen and we bumped hips, cracked jokes and laughed like we had known each other always. It was an unforgettable day and the jubilation and energy between us was infectious. I had a few bottles of wine that had not turned to vinegar and Jen decided we deserved to sample some and toast our luck, in all things. It was getting late and we were full and with warm hearts. The fire was cheery and radiant as was my companion. I marvelled at how my world had changed. I looked across at her and she at me; two smiling faces with a rosy glow from the wine and the warmth growing between us.  Just a couple of days ago, everything was hell in a hand-basket and now, I was truly in paradise. Great Change or not, this would have been heaven in any day or age. I was about to say something that expressed my growing affection for her. “I need to let her know,” I thought. 

Almost on cue to spoil the moment, there was a crash outside and we ran to the window, peering out onto a starry night and the silhouetted bush. We stood together at that window-frame and peered around like football goalies trying to pre-empt where a free-kick might go. But we were looking for reasons that amounted to more than a game. Survival was hard and terrifying at times and we tried to go from a party atmosphere and snap back into a heightened state of alert. Difficult to say the least and even more difficult at that time given the company I had. With luck, we worked out it was a mob of kangaroos crossing the property. They had landed on a piece of corrugated iron next to the shed and knocked it over. I could see it lying flat and the kangaroos hopping away from its general location. Jen had not worked it out yet and she was looking outward into the night sky. She was captivated by the stars and I was captivated with her. The house was locked up, we were warm, we were safe and we were together. She looked at me and I could see something in her eyes that a man should never pass up. It was an invitation. I kissed her like it was my first in years (it was). I pulled her in close and held her tightly. She touched my side and my face and ran her hands through my hair. The embrace and tender touch of this woman was more electrifying than that power system, or anything else in recent times, for that matter. The magic happened and that night was one of the most amazing in my entire life.