Okay, this chapter... I'm not gonna lie. It's too short, and I've been gone for too long with no good reason.
I hated writing this chapter. I really should have tacked this on to the end of the last one, and I waited to long to get moving on this chapter again. It just burned out. So, I decided to post what I've got, all 1000 pitiful words. And get on with the next chapter.
This is the first time I've felt dissatisfied with a chapter, utterly, totally dissatisfied. I tried, but I just can't force this. So I'm posting it, and considering it an addendum to chapter 9.
Actually, the title of this chapter is a testament to how terrible it felt for me.
Hopefully I can do better next time :/
9.5 DEAD space.
Shibata was in her office, looking over a list of looted items.
Several of her scavenger groups had returned early and now it fell to her to determine what was useful and what was garbage. As always, it amazed her the amount of useless scrap her boys picked up out in the city. Digital cameras, paper money, jewelry, all of it was worthless trash in this world.
A sedate knock on the door drew Shibata's attention for the moment. "Enter," She commanded, and Takehata, one of her lieutenants, entered the office.
"Group seven managed to pick up some more strays, Shibata-sama." He reported. Seven, the group she had put that lovely boy Komuro on. "They are awaiting orders."
"Situation?"
"Group seven is a few miles southwest of here, the group they picked up consists of a small family, a teenager, a middle aged man and woman, and an old lady."
Shibata sighed, "Standard procedure then, I won't add any useless mouths to my community."
Takehata saluted smartly, "Hai."
Shibata shook her head after he left. A few miles huh? While it would be amusing to get out her binoculars and watch the drama unfold around group seven, she still had to sort through the newest batch of supplies. Going over the list once more she face palmed. A toaster? Honestly?
Sometimes she truly wondered about the intelligence of her species.
Shibata was from an old family, not an influential one like the Takagi, but she could trace her ancestry back to feudal Japan. Her lineage was of an old samurai clan, cold steel and court politics was in her blood. So was it really any surprise that Shibata rose to command her own little community?
It hadn't take much effort, all things told. With the world around her going to hell in a hand basket, all she had done was take little bit of bluster, a touch of confidence, a hint of a plan, and mix it all together with her natural charisma, and voila, Shibata was the queen of her own little world.
When she got right down to it, running the place was many time more difficult than setting it up in the first place, but that was burden of being a leader. She was more than willing to pay that price, after all, there were plenty of 'fringe' benefits that came from running the show.
Shibata wasn't one to delude herself. She knew, that by conventional standards, she wasn't a "good" person. But she also knew, that by conventional standards, there wasn't a single leader worth following that could be called "good". Leaders had their own scale by which they were measured. The object morality of the leader meant little in comparison to the prosperity of her people. And Shibata had ensured that her people would prosper, even in this grim hell.
She hadn't lied to Komuro-san at all. If he were willing to prove useful, then she would use him, for the good of his family as well as her own. Shibata considered everyone living in her office building to be her responsibility, regardless of their origin. And she would do her damndest to see them all survive.
Even if she had to break more than a few eggs.
Takashi could barely make it out, a slight increase in brightness on the highest floor of Shibata's high-rise. It was a mirror, used to communicate between the groups far afield and their home base.
So that's how Shibata's scavengers had ambushed his family.
In this case, however, it meant that Takashi and the rest of the group, including their three new additions, were to head back to the high-rise. They'd make it back a bit before noon, which was good. Takashi never did like leaving his family alone, especially not on someone else's orders.
The entire group traveled at a quick pace, and a few miles later the old woman began to slow down. She wasn't used to traveling so quickly, the man said, could they please slow down. Takashi frowned when the group leader refused, instead he gave them directions back to the high-rise. The teen was forced to stay with the group, but his father wasn't about to let his own mother wonder through the zombie infested city alone.
Grudgingly, the group leader returned some weapons to the man, but kept the boy and all of their supplies in order to ensure "good behavior"
Takashi grimaced at the treatment and when no one was looking he slipped the man a few energy bars and a plastic bottle of water. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but I can't do anything else to help. They've got the rest of my family safe back at the office building." The man nodded once in understanding and gratitude.
Then, without a backwards glance, the rest of the group continued on and quickly left the straggling old woman behind.
A few minutes later the group leader sent a man back to check on the two people. Takashi found that a bit odd, after all, what was the point of leaving them behind if you were going to send people back to escort them? And it looked like a formality more than anything else, almost if the group leader only did it set the teenage boy at ease.
After that, the rest of the group continued on regardless. At their current pace, they'd reach the office building in around twenty minutes.
So imagine Takashi's surprise when the sharp retort of a gunshot shattered the air.
Izou glanced back over his shoulder and swore explosively. "Let's move! We're getting out of here now!" Everyone broke into a run, as Izou lead them onto a back road and towards the office building in the distance.
Behind them, another gunshot went off, and though it was impossible to pinpoint its direction, Takashi didn't doubt that the old lady and the man had run into some serious trouble. But they were out of his reach, he could only prey that they'd make it to safety.
Even in a state of semi-panic the group reached the office building quickly. The guards at the door let them in without comment. But before Takashi could go anywhere, Saya pulled him to the side.
"We need to talk." There was no room for argument in her tone.
Now, Takashi knew from experience that Saya, well a genius in every sense of the word, was rarely serious. It was always sarcastic remarks and backhand compliments with her, quick to anger and not all the good at holding a grudge either. Grudges took too much time to maintain, she'd said.
So Takashi knew with one look in her eyes that Saya needed to tell him something very, very, serious. Something that would affect their entire family whether he wanted it to or not.
Takashi followed Saya without another word. And sent up a quick prayer that this would be something he could deal with on his own.
...
"Are you sure that's what you saw?"
"Completely sure." Saya replied, "So what are we going to do about it, fearless leader?"
I've heard that people say: "When life gives you lemons, makes lemonade."
I call bullshit. Your lemonade's gonna suck if Life forgot to pick up the sugar.
High School of the Dead
1000 Suns