Without Guilt

Chapter VII: Another's Misfortune

"Where you been, Meyer?" Ethan admonished as he opened the gate leading into the body yard. "You were supposed to be here 20 minutes ago." He tapped his wrist to indicate a fake watch.

Ethan Murphy was by far one of the most irritating Hunters that Otis had ever met. He walked about telling everyone else what they should be doing and making his living off blackmail. The worst part? He had the Leader's ear. He spied on everyone and always ran to snitch if he wasn't appeased.

Of course, Otis knew better than to get caught doing something wrong first.

A person who was corrupt enough to accept bribery for his silence was not to be trusted to keep it no matter how much you paid him.

"My bad, went to talk to Mace. Wasn't feeling so good so I had a lie down, he forgot to wake me up." There was no point trying to lie about where he'd been, people had seen him talking to Mason out on the street.

Ethan eyed him, unable to read his expression from behind his gas mask. "Pretty cozy with Mace, aren't ya?" His tone was less than pleasant.

Otis ignored him. He didn't have to tell him anything and quite frankly he hated wasting time talking about unnecessary things. Instead, he'd focus on the bodies half dumped out from the pickup truck to one side of the yard.

Despite all of Ethan's complaining, he hadn't even gotten started on any work.

Not that Otis expected him to change that. Ethan was all bark-no bite, all talk-no work.

Ethan didn't like being ignored though. "So, what's wrong with ya?" He asked, standing to one side as the other pulled the bodies to start stripping them. Whatever hadn't already been taken from pockets and bags would be dropped into a box for sorting, the clothes- if they were salvageable – in another box to go to the laundry.

"Fatigue. Same as everyone else." Otis figured he wouldn't drop it if he didn't answer.

Ethan hummed loudly to confirm that he had heard the answer and was picking it apart for some sort of hidden meaning that wasn't even there. "Saw you at the warehouse this morning. You looked fine then."

This fucker – Otis didn't give him the satisfaction of displaying his annoyance. "Ain't it about time you started working?" He replied evenly.

Ethan, however, wasn't as easily intimidated as other people.

He knew he had standing, and it made him arrogant. He looked down his hooked nose at Otis. He was willing to take Otis down because he knew the Leader held him in regard too. "Way I see it," He started slyly, a dirty grin spreading onto his clean-shaven face. "You were 20 minutes late so you can work for 20 minutes extra."

He was trying to provoke Otis, assuming that Otis couldn't lay a finger on him.

Otis had just killed a man who never even dared to look him in the eye. Given the chance, he would have doused Ethan in gasoline and set fire to him to make it look like an accident, but unlike William, there were people who would actually ask after Ethan as hard as that was to believe.

He was pretty sure the people who wanted him dead outnumbered those who cared for his well-being tenfold. Ethan could only blackmail so many people before he crossed the wrong person, and Otis wasn't planning on becoming that person unless Ethan left him no choice.

"You want to be a dick, fine." Otis replied coolly, tossing the body he'd stripped onto the smouldering ashes near the wall of the yard.

The bodies would be burned because it was impractical to try and bury them but leaving them outside just invited vermin and disease. A shift in the yard was probably the worst duty within the camp, but everyone got a round of it eventually, and with the amount of people here it came about once every two or three months.

The stench of burning flesh clung to clothes, hair, and skin, making for an awful time scrubbing it afterwards.

Otis wanted to be optimistic that he would be able to take a hot bath after, but seeing as he'd killed William, visiting Mason's place would just draw attention. He'd need to go back to confront the demons he'd left between those four walls, assuming that Dorothy did what he told her to do and reported William's unfortunate accident.

Ethan made himself comfortable in the seat of the truck, watching Otis work like a vulture. He seemed to be expecting Otis to be stupid enough to try and fill his pockets or something equally low.

Time drew on, his aching side throbbing painfully from exertion and heavy lifting.

Twenty minutes or not, it was clear Ethan had no intention of working, but truthfully Otis was so focused on his work that he didn't even notice.

He inhaled through his gas mask, the filter giving the sound a mechanical hissing as he stood over the bare corpses, mangled limbs twisted like morbid tree roots from the horrid deaths that had been met by these souls.

He pushed himself, dragging his feet to retrieve the alcohol and matches from the outbuilding.

Gasoline was too precious to be used for this daily ritual after all, but alcohol was plentiful. At least when William wasn't drinking the reserves dry—

The gate opened just as he brought out the items, Ethan emerging from the truck to see who came by.

"T, it's good you're here." Scarlett addressed him, huffing as she dumped the heavy load being carried between her and Pier. She exhaled, trying not to breath in the stench of death that hung about the place. She had her neck scarf pulled up to cover her mouth and nose.

"What's up?" Otis questioned as he reached them.

He recognised the bloodied sheet wrapped around the dumped body, but he watched Scarlett and Pier as they exchanged glances.

Pier moved to uncover the corpse, revealing William's face. His skin had paled, his lips ashen and blue. The blood from where he'd been hit in the head had congealed, a dark contrast to the rest of him.

Otis exhaled, looking away. His exhalation was one of relief, but he was exhausted enough for it to sound like one of pity. "When did this happen?" He asked, bringing his gaze back to Scarlett and Pier.

"We don't know." Scarlett replied, shrugging. She didn't particularly care about William, but the fact she was here meant that Dorothy had sold a convincing story. "Dory came by bawling like a baby saying he's dead. Sure enough the fucker was sprawled out on his ass with a drink."

"A drink? I thought we agreed no one was to give him any." Otis cut in.

She shrugged again.

"It wasn't from the warehouse. He took it from med bay." Pier filled in, setting his hands on his hips as he stretched out his back. "Was the stuff they use for wounds and shit." It was no secret that Pier was growing old, and his posture was suffering from years of heavy-duty work. The man was badly scarred too, apparently having escaped some slavers somewhere far west.

Whatever he'd run from, he seemed to appreciate everything he could find here in Pittsburgh.

"This fucker…" Otis huffed.

"We were taking bets about who was stealing them bottles just a week ago." Scarlett put in unhelpfully. Her excitement over her winnings was dampened by a look from Pier who shook his head discouragingly.

"Where's Simmons?" Otis asked, ducking down to examine William's body. He knew the man had nothing on him of worth, but Ethan seemed to be moving over to take care of the usual process anyway.

Probably not out of consideration for Otis having to bury a 'friend', and more because he was again looking for clues he wouldn't find.

"Kumi came by to take her. Said he'd keep an eye on her since she was awful upset. Poor kitten." Scarlett sighed, glad to have the source of the awful smell removed from her vicinity. "Anyway, seems like you're next in line for that place. I suggest you take a torch to the bed. Ain't no getting the smell out."

"Scarlett." Pier said her name in warning for her insensitivity and she threw her hands up.

"Just sayin'." She started to back away, not wanting to spend longer than necessary in the yard.

"She's right, Pier." Otis remarked, straightening up. "I stayed there 'cuz my people were there but seems like with K and Dom out, Will just did what he wanted." He brought his arms around himself, putting pressure on his abdomen subtly. His wound was bleeding, he could feel it.

"Where'd they go off to?" Pier asked, his bushy brows knitting in confusion at what that had to do with anything.

Otis knew that Pier would have heard about Kumi giving their rotation to Layla though.

"I dunno. I think Mace set them up with something, they been saving up a while. Wanted privacy, you know how it is." His gaze shifted past Pier towards Scarlet's retreating form before looking to Pier.

Pier's ruddy face seemed to flush a deeper red and he'd clear his throat as he glanced past Otis in turn, looking at Ethan. "How 'bout we talk somewhere quiet? I think we could both use a stiff drink." He suggested, laying a hand on Otis' arm in a silent appeal.

Otis gave a quiet nod.

"Hey, Murphy!" Pier called out to the man. "I'm taking Meyer for a little while. Need to get the old place cleared out." He indicated.

Ethan's face twisted in contempt, but before he could protest, the two men were heading out the yard. "Yeah, fucking leave me to do all the work." He complained, glaring at the pyre as flames licked flesh from bone.

Otis didn't know where Pier was taking him, but it was clear from the elaborate path he was taking that he wanted to avoid Ethan and the likes of him from following them. They would reach an old shop with a red brick front.

It was a two-storey building with a boarded-up front, a large red 'X' long dried on the boards sealing the front door and windows. Otis had seen enough of these to say that the spray was more recent than the rest – a DIY job as it were.

"This way." Pier prompted, heading down the narrow alley through a rusty gate to access the building from the side door.

It was a clever front. Private, easy to hide in. No one bothered with the houses crossed off with red. They were usually filled with spores, too dangerous to venture into since you could never guess what lurked in the basement. The leader had made a rule to not open them after the settlement expanded past the original QZ. It was a whole can of worms they didn't want to risk, but every so often a brave or stupid individual tried to get in to see if there were any supplies worth taking.

The typical scenario always led to Infected strolling out onto the streets some hours later. Or in Leslie Harper's case, she'd gotten out after being bit, made it all the way to her rented room at Mason's place and turned over night.

Pier unlocked the door, ushering Otis in, looking around to make sure no one had seen them before closing it after them.

The side door led into a tiny kitchen, half the tiles covered in mould and the open fridge holding the yellow stains of something that hadn't been removed in time before it rotted. A nearby bucket and rag suggested it was on the list, but evidently the place was in so much need of repair that the kitchen was not a priority.

"Pier?" Scarlett's voice was heard as they crossed over into the little hallway from where steps ascended to access the accommodation, a door to the right leading to the shop. The woman appeared atop the stairs shortly, her wide hips squeezed into a dress that Otis thought he recognised from somewhere. She paused with a short gasp when she spotted Otis at the bottom, her eyes wide with panic.

"It's okay, honey." Pier assured, stepping into her line of sight.

Scarlett did not think it was okay, her face flushing as she quickly dashed out of sight. She was probably embarrassed to be seen all rouged and dressed up when she was known for being a tomboy.

It was endearing in a way, but Otis didn't give it much thought, shifting to let Pier take the lead.

"Watch them steps, they're crawling with rot." Pier warned, leading him to a small room where Scarlett had donned her outdoor jacket over the top of her dress.

It looked ridiculous now, but she seemed embarrassed enough without anyone staring at her.

There was furniture stacked to one side, stained with age, and waiting for an unsuspecting visitor to test how much longer it would hold. The mouldy carpet had been torn up and rolled to one side, in its place a rug laid down to keep out the cold seeping through the floorboards.

Pier sighed. "I know what you're thinking, but I promise I ain't a miser."

"Murphy's got something on you." Otis said with realisation, looking from Pier to Scarlett.

Scarlett wouldn't meet his gaze, wiping the lipstick from her lips on the back of her hand.

"Don't worry about that. I just need you to keep this quiet for me, alright? I… don't got a lot to give you but—"

"Pier, if I wanted to tell Ashton Lewis that you were seeing Scarlett, we wouldn't be here having this conversation." Otis cut him off, clamping a hand on the man's shoulder to ground him when he wouldn't meet his gaze.

"I swear I don't mean to be doing it like that. Scarlett's tried talking to him." Pier still tried to reason, suggesting he felt guilty for bedding a married woman.

Otis had seen worse, but he'd also seen Ashton and to cut a long story short, the man was a redneck woman-beater who deserved more than being cheated on. Those past relationships and marriages very rarely lasted and were very easy to break off. There were no divorce papers to sign, no big court to attend over financial orders, nothing to split. Not as far as most people were concerned.

But not people like Ashton Lewis.

He ill-treated Scarlett and everyone knew it, but no one was willing to intervene because there was a strict live-and-let-live rule among the Hunters. Scarlett had done everything to try and leave him, everything except running out in the middle of the night and leaving the camp altogether.

So, Ethan was threatening to tell Ashton about Pier and Scarlett. Regardless of Scarlett's choice in the matter, no one would protect her, and who knew if they wouldn't help Ashton kill both her and Pier. It would be his 'right' as far as they were concerned.

"You're staying here 'cuz he's making you pay him?" Otis moved towards the boarded-up window, peering through a small gap out into the street below. It was quiet.

"You want us to pay you too now?" Scarlett questioned bluntly, squaring her shoulders, and glaring daggers into his back. "It's enough we've got this shithole, won't be long before Layla gets tired of giving us charity either."

"Nah. I ain't in that business." Otis scoffed, turning his head to look at them. "Thing is, K moved into this new place, got a bit spend-happy and didn't think much. You know what Kumi's like. I don't really want Will's place, too many ghosts, it ain't a bad square though but I doubt Simmons wants to go back there and I'm thinking 'bout getting something smaller for myself." He didn't like talking this much though, but he needed to convince Pier that he was doing him a favour so that Pier would be willing to give him one back.

He could read the change on Scarlett's face, a glimmer of hope.

Pier was uncertain. "You… thinking about renting the place? Hell… I don't know, T, I ain't got nothing to trade. I could take your shifts if you want?"

Otis turned to face him properly. "Nah, I'm willing to let you stay there, I'll throw in a week's rations from our rotation too. But I need your rotation for next week." He told him.

"What? That's it?" Scarlett squinted at him suspiciously. "Let me get this right… you're saying you'd let us stay there, rent free, and give us food… just for our next rotation?" She looked towards Pier to make sure she wasn't confused about any of it.

"For all of your supply runs." Otis corrected. "Ain't much to ask, is it? I want to move up, you want to live peacefully. I've known you a long time, Pier, I don't think what Murphy does is fair. Not to you or Scarlett. You deserve a break; I know your back is getting bad."

Pier and Scarlett were quiet, turning it over in their heads. He would let them, watching as they huddled to talk quietly with Scarlett's optimism winning out in the end.

She'd walk over and offer a lipstick-stained hand. "Alright, you got yourself a deal. Best not regret it or change your mind later."

Otis was sure he wouldn't, taking her hand to give it a firm shake.

Please R&R!