Chapter 56 "Volunteers Ain't Sinners"

Day 305

"You know," Jim said angrily to Kevin, "I'm growing very frustrated."

"At me?" Kevin asked indignantly.

"Yes," the leader said seethingly, but turned his face down to his desk, staring at the documents before him. "But it isn't just you. It's everything. We're getting so few people now, and I'm worried there might be a point where we don't get any. And then we'll be stuck."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we'll have hit the bottom. We'll have very little reason to expand, and we'll be weak."

"I don't know about that," the cowboy shrugged. "We got lots of kids and babies 'round here. We're gonna keep growing."

"But slowly. And while we wait for the brats to get big enough to know the difference between a gun and a knife, we're vulnerable."

Kevin raised a brow. "Can I say somethin'?"

Jim looked up at his right-hand man in confusion, but ended up being quite impressed that he was becoming so obedient. "Fine."

"I think you're being real paranoid. We've got plenty people, we've got happy families, and we ain't had somebody die here in nearly two-hundred days. And that was just 'cause one of the older folks didn't tell us how bad their cancer really was."

"And it's a miracle that you were there to check on him that morning, or else someone else might have found him as a walker and this whole place would be gone. I don't think you get the gravity of this situation. Any person could keel over at any moment and, best case scenario, result in the death of probably five people. Where does that leave us?"

"Weaker."

"Exactly! So it's what?"

"My job to make sure everything runs smoothly," Kevin replied robitically.

"There you go."

"But, does that actually relate? People can be comfortable, but that doesn't stop them from unexpectedly dying."

"No, but it keeps their minds off of it."

"Is...is that what we really want, though? Shouldn't we be training them how to deal with that kind of stuff? Or at least the people who work patrol and wall duty?"

Jim sat in his chair, furiously rubbing his temples. "Okay, look, they already know what to do. That's their basic training. Whatever, look. My point is: this all falls on you in the end."

"I know…" Kevin sighed, annoyed by this repeated threat.

"I don't think you do. What I'm saying is, if you want to keep everyone safe, you do it."

"Wait," the cowboy contemplated. "Are you making me leader?"

"No. I'm putting you in charge of this place's well-being."

"And...why is that?"

"You act like you know what's best, what to do, all that shit. You think you know how to lead, do it."

"So I'm the leader of WLR now?"

"No, you idiot. I'm still the leader; the position's still mine, and you still obey to me. To these people, I'm still the leader. All this means is, if shit goes wrong, it's now completely on your head."

"So...I do the work, you take the credit? You get all the perks, while I sit right where I am, working harder than ever." Jim nodded with a devious smile, waiting for Kevin to connect the rest of the dots. "But, if something goes wrong, you're gonna throw it all onto me?"

"There you go! You're not the dumbass redneck I once thought you to be. You can do some thinkin' here, can't you?"

Kevin was boiling with rage beneath the surface, wanting so badly to harm the man he once called a friend.

"Now run along, partner. Sounds like you've got some cattle to herd."

Tracey sat at her desk, doodling in an old notebook that had clearly been around for years. The figure she drew appeared to be of a young boy in dark blue sitting in a school, surrounded by empty desks. Despite the gloom around the image, it still seemed quite happy, and the boy in the drawing seemed to be delighted. It was an odd juxtaposition.

Pulling her attention from the piece, Kevin speed-walked past her desk, clearly in a rush. She looked back toward Jim's office to see the door slowly shutting as he leaned back in his chair, looking content, yet angry.

The secretary had the urge to go after Kevin, or at least to call out to him, but she knew it would not be a good idea. Jim would not be pleased with her. On top of it, there were people around, and she did not want anything about the private affairs in West Little Rock leaking to the public.

Sighing helplessly, Tracey put her head back down and looked at her work. She stared at it, attempting to mentally continue, but could not think of anything pleasing to add to it. She shrugged, having lost her inspiration, and decided it might as well be complete. She titled it "Clay" and closed the notebook just as two Hispanic women approached her desk.

"Hello, ladies," Tracey smiled to them. "Rosa and...Emerald, right?"

"Esmeralda," the younger, plumper girl replied flatly.

"Excuse me. It's a beautiful name."

"Thank you," Esmeralda smiled as genuinely as she could muster, but still could not do convincingly.

"What can I do for you two?" Tracey asked, remaining friendly and maintaining eye contact.

"Well," Rosa began, "we just wanted to know if you had anymore towels, and sheets, and things."

"Oh," Tracey said, expecting a job inquiry, "uh, yeah. The first door on the left there's where we keep all of our toiletries, and the washer and drier."

"Gracias," the gray-haired Hispanic woman smiled and turned down the hall, Esmeralda right in tow.

Tracey smiled, happy to see the women beginning to open up more. They had been here a whole month, but barely spoke to anyone other than the people they arrived here with. Who were they again? the secretary asked herself.

She rolled backwards from her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a large binder. She opened it and grabbed a yellow notebook. After flipping through the pages quickly, she found the page she was looking for. It was a messy page, with simple scrawlings made for different groups. They were separated by boxes, and some names had special symbols or underlines that all meant different things. The page was titled "New People Cheat Sheet" in Tracey's beautiful handwriting.

"December twenty-first," she said under her breath and inwardly frowned as she thought once again about how their dates may be way off, "Dylan and Dalton, no… January second, the Asian couple… January eleventh, Sierra's group… February sixth… There it is! Rosa's group, February twentieth. Oh, duh: Joshua; then Rosa, Esmer, and Theresa and Meghan. Of course. Geez, how did Joshua handle being the only guy?"

Rosa and Esmeralda closed the door to the storeroom, the sound bringing Tracey's attention back to the world around her. As she looked up, she realized that Kenny, who sat silently in a seat near her desk, had heard every word she said to herself as he looked back down to the old magazine in his hands subtly. Tracey cursed herself for not even realizing he had been there the entire time.

"Come back anytime," she called kindly to the two women while not breaking her stare at the grayed new man. He did not even flinch, continuing his reading innocently.

Hours later, Kenny walked down the street toward his home, his hands deep in his pockets as he shuffled contently along the pavement. He earned a few stares from people whose homes he passed, but he seemed to not even notice.

As he approached his home, he saw the figure of a familiar man; one he had pegged to be quite important in the community. It was Kevin, who smiled upon making eye contact with the man of similar age.

"Hey, Kenny!" Kevin greeted, extending a hand to shake.

Kenny stopped in his tracks and stared at the cowboy's hand. He remained wordless, and just as he nearly pulled his hand out to reluctantly shake, Kevin put it down with an understanding smile.

"I'm sorry, man," he apologized to Kenny, "I shouldn'ta done that. Everyone opens up at their own pace, I didn't mean to make you feel like you had to do something you didn't want to."

The new man nodded, his face remaining slightly scornful.

Resting bitch-face, I guess, Kevin thought to himself. He looked behind him to Kenny's door and grinned back to the man. "I don't mean to keep you outta your home, but I just needed to talk to ya. Jim — you know, the leader — has honestly been gettin' a few...complaints — wait, maybe that's the wrong word. Point is, between us, a few o' the people 'round here are a bit scared a'ya."

Kenny nodded, giving a slight shrug and resisting the urge to smile.

"Now, I'm sure there's nothin' to worry about with you. But I think it might go well if you get a job, be around some people, get to know 'em, and show 'em you ain't that bad. 'Cause right now, just bein' as honest as I can, a few people want you out."

"Which ones?" Kenny asked bluntly.

"I'm afraid I can't tell ya," Kevin suspiciously laughed. "But take my word. Like I said, I'm sure yer' not a big bad villain, but ya gotta let people see that. Jobs are optional here, but it'd prolly be best if ya get one. Fer yer sake. Be friendly an' all. I hope five days was enough time for you te rest."

The helpful cowboy looked through his pockets and pulled out a piece of paper with the list of all the jobs available in the community on it. Kenny finally took a hand out of a pocket and eyed the list.

"Just look it over, think about it. It's yer choice, but this is a democracy. If the people think yer' a threat, we may have to get you gone."

Kenny was already crossing off many of the jobs, deeming them too stupid or annoying for him to participate in. He gave a curt nod, expecting Kevin to finally leave.

"Also," Kevin gave one last bit of advice, "you might want to say you volunteered for this. Keep me and Jim out of it, say you wanted to help around town. Remember: volunteers ain't sinners," the cowboy laughed and waved goodbye.

Kenny looked down at the list and angrily crumpled it up, throwing it into a trash can as he entered his house.