"Santana, I expected you yesterday morning, but apparently you had other things to do… What the hell happened?"
Pacey frowned when he saw me approach along with Rachel and Brittany. I know it was exploitative, that I should spare Brittany. But I brought my girlfriend because I needed to show the seriousness of the problem and show that the story I was about to tell was very real. I needed to convince those people who would have no reason to believe us to give us the medicine, if they have it.
"Pacey, good morning. This is Rachel Berry, my friend and one of the bunker's resident, and this is my girlfriend, Brittany. Is Joey home?"
"She and Alex went out to walk the horses. They must be coming back."
"Okay, we'll wait."
"Hey neighbors." A blonde woman, apparently a little older than Joey, waved at us. She was pretty, with a quirky chin in a good way, and seemed pretty confident about herself. "My name is Elena…Elena Richardson. I know Joey is the local badass, but can I help?"
"Perhaps."
I looked at Pacey and he allowed us to get into their territory. Elena took us to her house, which was the best kept in the fenced housing complex. It was also the smallest house, painted in light blue, with its surroundings free, unlike the other houses that had shelves of paraphernalia, vases and other things on display. Elena invited us in and led us to a table that seated six. Pacey accompanied us, and also an older woman named Lindsey, another who must have been in her early twenties named Kat, and a guy who introduced himself as John, who was a very muscular man. The decor of that house was very reminiscent of those of suburban families, with picture frames, a piano, rug on the floor and a fireplace.
"If you don't mind, could we just talk to the women?" I know I didn't have the right, but I applied anyway. "Maybe Pacey could stay..." That John guy looked at Elena and she nodded, as if to indicate that it was all right, and that he wouldn't be needed. Pacey remained in the room, since we didn't oppose him. Elena seemed intrigued, so it was best not to beat around the bush. "We came here to talk business." I said. "The day I was here with Mike to learn how to hunt, tragedy struck our family. Our water reservoir froze, and my girlfriend along with our friend, Quinn Fabray, left the bunker to get water from the nearby stream. Long story short, they found hunters, and these guys..." I pointed at my girlfriend and her black eye. "What you assume is probably correct."
"And the hunters? Do you know who they were?" Pacey was frowning.
"I'd never seen them before. What I know was those men in the region a short time ago. They settled in huts near Logan. But that doesn't matter anymore." Rachel answered.
"Why not?" Elena asked.
"Because they are dead. All but one." I explained and spoke like this, in a free, direct way, because it was the truth and I wasn't going to mask anything.
"Should I ask under what circumstances?" Elena said in a careful tone.
"They were caught in the act. Mike, me and Rachel take care of them."
"What kind of act?" Elena asked carefully.
"They tried to rape my girlfriend and they actually did it to Quinn. Four against two." I said truing to hide my pain.
"I'm so sorry, darling." Elena said to Brittany.
"Thank you." Brittany's voice was so weak that it almost killed me.
"What exactly do you want with us? Since you said you're here to talk business." Elena went on.
"Rachel, Mike and I went into town to get some medicine, but you should know the place has been pretty much cleaned out."
"Yes, almost everything that matters except the Walmart's pharmacy, because going there is almost suicidal." Pacey said.
"That's why we're here. The medicines we needed were no longer available, or we couldn't find them. So, we brought you some painkillers and anti-inflammatories in hopes you'd have a morning-after pill to swap. Brittany doesn't need it, but Quinn needs that medicine asap."
Elena lowered her head and it looks like she was pondering. She got up and left the room. Pacey and the other women were silent. I could feel that eyes were all on Brittany, on her physical condition. My girlfriend's beautiful face was still deformed by the violence of those men. She still had one of her eyes very swollen, but she was able to open it. Brittany also complained a lot of pain in her ribs from the punches and kicks she took. I think she at least cracked some of them, but without equipment it wasn't possible to check.
"Don't you need all these medicine medicine?" One of the younger women had a curious tone. "I mean, the painkillers at least?"
"I do, but we don't have nothing better to exchange." Brittany responded with deceptively calm, but I knew her to know she wasn't okay with any of that.
"Weren't you and your friend together at the time? A mean… they did it to her but not to you?" The woman named Lindsey was struggling to understand the problem.
"Yes, Quinn and I were together. We went to get water from the river and saw that there were people nearby. We approached thinking Mike and San brought some friends… you guys maybe. When we realized it wasn't, we tried to leave without them seeing us... but they did. They approached, said that they wouldn't hurt us and that everything was fine. They started asking questions, and when they realized that we wanted to get rid of them, they started to insinuate themselves, saying that we could go visit their camp, get food, stuff. Quinn hit one of them with the bucket and we ran. They caught Quinn up and I kept running. But they also reached me. I tried to hit them, I used all the low blows San taught me, but… they hit me too." That was the first detail Brittany had said about what happened, although I would have guessed that was the reason for their distance from each other. Brittany was always faster and more agile than Quinn.
Elena returned to the living room with a small box in her hands.
"Lucky for you I'm in charge of the stock." Elena placed the box we needed on the table. "Save your painkillers and anti-inflammatories because the girls will need them too. This medicine is worth 20 bullets of ammo." I definitely understood why that Elena was in charge of stocks. Bitch knew how to negotiate. Ammunition was as necessary a commodity as medicine.
"We don't have 20 bullets here." Rachel frowned.
"You two can take the medicine and come back here with the twenty bullets preferably a 22 calibre. Your friend Santana stays here as warranty."
I nodded to Rachel and Brittany that everything was fine. I wasn't worried about being held hostage by those people for a few hours. Besides, Quinn urgently needed the medicine. Brittany gave me a peck on the lips before she and Rachel headed back to the bunker. Pacey tapped me on the shoulder and led me to the walled ranch where he lived with his wife, daughter and nephew.
"Don't be mad with Elena. She can be overly cautious. But it's because here we are a unit and we need to protect ourselves."
"I don't think she's wrong. This is the apocalypse and you can't be charitable all the time. The exchanges are fair."
"Yes..." Pacey frowned and seemed to be bothered by something. "But that doesn't mean we should embrace barbarism."
"Sometimes there are no alternatives."
"Those men who hurt your girlfriend. Were they the first ones you killed?"
"Yes, they were."
"Were those the first ones you killed as a group?"
"No. The first were militia men who took us to a road that was actually their death camp. Rachel killed them with a revolver we had hidden, but one of us was also killed in the fire."
"What did you feel?"
"That day I felt anger and fear at the same time. I just thought my journey would end there. Thank god Rachel Fucking Berry has accurate aim. I don't think she even thought... none of us can think at these times."
"How is that?"
"I know you are making an assessment of my character right now, but I tell you to put my shoes on: what would you do if you were in our situation?" Pacey was clearly uncomfortable with my query, in much the same way as Burt Hummel. "When you find yourself in these situations, you don't think, you just act. Instinct takes over. I didn't think of any other alternatives when I saw that guy ripping my girlfriend's clothes off, on top of her, while his partner was jerking off, waiting his turn. Mike and I killed them. Rationalization comes later."
"Do you think acting on instinct is the best defense in a trial?"
"There are no more courts, or legal systems to appeal, Pacey. Justice is now what our consciences judge."
"I know it must be hard to rationalize at the moment, but do you really think the men who assaulted your girlfriend deserved to die?
"Yes, I do."
"Even if you hadn't caught the assault, would you still think the same?"
"Yes."
"Even if we were still in normal times?"
"If we had a structure of a state and a legal system, maybe I would call for life sentence in prison for these guys. But honestly, deep down, I would still wish them dead." I was too honest, I know. But I couldn't temper the hatred I felt for those men.
"Killing doesn't change what happened."
"Have you killed anyone besides reapers and zombies? Or chickens?"
"No, I haven't."
"Have you ever been through a similar situation?"
"I know your anger and your thirst for justice because of what a very dear friend suffered. I didn't witness any of this, and when I found out it was weeks after it happened. Even so, I knew the guy and I hit him for my own satisfaction, not for justice. Even with all my rage, killing wasn't a possibility."
"You're right about one thing, killing someone doesn't change what happened under certain circumstances."
"Certain circumstances?"
"Well, Quinn remains a person who has been violated. But at least it gave me relief to know that those guys don't breathe anymore, because they can't do that again to anyone else."
"Yeah, but what circumstances?"
"When killing means maintaining your status as a living person."
"I don't know if I agree with you, Santana. Here, in this community, we have laws. We defend ourselves, but we don't kill people. We don't steal things that we know belong to someone else. That's why we never went into that bunker and took what was inside."
"You know Pacey, they say power reveals a person's character. I would say the same of the apocalypse. I know I'm not a murderer, but I am a person capable of killing. The same thing I say about Mike and Rachel, because they did the same. Maybe that's why the three of us have been placed in the role of leaders and protectors in our family. We do what has to be done."
"What's the difference between killing and being a murderer?"
"The difference is that I would never deliberately take someone's life. But I do if I have to, in a kill or be killed situation. It's like in a war, the soldier is not necessarily a murderer, but he finds himself in a situation where he needs to kill in order to survive. Would you judge a soldier by the work he did on a battlefield?"
"So this is a war?"
"War for survival? Yes, it is."
"Was killing Brittany's bullies an action of war?"
"I wouldn't rationalize with someone raping my girlfriend."
Pacey was silent. There was a lot of Burt Hummel in him, and in a way, I was grateful that people like him survived. If those militiamen from Andrade were building a walled city just for them. Perhaps Pacey could establish another walled society with much better ethical standards. The point is that apparently we wouldn't fit in with the militiamen's barbarism, and maybe our approach could be too pragmatic for the moral standards of Pacey's community. It was as if we were in a limbo between two extremes: neither the bad guys nor the good guys.
"Do your friends agree with you?"
"We protect them, so others don't need to have blood in their hands. I protect my girlfriend so she doesn't know what it's like to get her hands dirty."
"Or maybe it's because the others don't have it in them. My brother was a police officer in the small town where we were born. He retired as sheriff just a few weeks before everything went down without ever having killed a single person, although he did show his gun in some occasions. That was his pride, of always being able to solve problems without necessarily using excessive force. One of the last times we saw each other, I asked him if he would have done the same as a police officer in a big city, like Boston, for example. He said no, because he didn't have it in him."
"A policeman who has never had to use a gun? Seems unlikely."
"Yes, he was living proof that this is possible. Even though he had the prerogative to do so if the situation was right, he never shot a person."
"Okay. Where is him now?"
"We lost touch after the apocalypse. When it all happened, Doug said that he had taken care of food supplies and that he was strengthening the security of the house where he lived with his husband and their son. After the communication was cut off, we lost contact because he doesn't have a ham radio."
"Do you have ham radio here?"
"Yes." Pacey glared at me. "You are too young to assume the responsibility you have along with yours. How old are you?"
"19."
"19 years old and with this baggage on your back. I would wish another life for you, Santana."
When Joey showed up with her nephew, Pacey apologized and went to meet his wife. Well, I was in the hostage position, right? Assurance that Rachel would return with 20 bullets to pay for the medicine Quinn desperately needed. Despite everything, I still had my word and I wouldn't run away, because I knew that Pacey and Joey, as kind of leaders of that community, wouldn't want to see me in their house anymore. Joey greeted me after a while when she put the horse back in his stall and brushed him down. She seemed much more sympathetic to me than Pacey did, but that didn't mean my family still had easy access to that community. We wouldn't be invited.
In the meantime, I saw the community working. Some people went in and out of the greenhouse, others were in the barn, others collected eggs from the chicken coop. I didn't see zombies harassing them, maybe because we were in an area protected by a denser forest, some distance from both Logan and the neighboring town. Rachel arrived along with Mike almost three hours later. They handed the ammo in Elena's hands, so I was cleared to leave.
"Quinn took the medicine." Rachel said happily.
"Great." I answered
"You don't sound very happy about it." Mike put his hands on my shoulders.
"No, I'm glad Quinn took the medicine."
"So… what's going on? Why are you with this sad face?"
"For everything we've done so far, do you think we've become a bunch of cold-blooded killers?" I questioned both Rachel and Mike, as they were the only two who could speak on the subject using their own experience, as of all of us, only Mike, Rachel and I took non-infected human lives.
"Remember what you said to that man? That we were for peace, but that we weren't defenseless? I think that's exactly it. I feel this way." Mike opined.
"Sometimes I don't recognize myself." Rachel confessed. "But we adapt, right? Because we are doing what it takes to survive."
"Yeah… we adapt."
"Why are you saying that, San?"
"It was a conversation I had with Pacey. He's very close in thought to Burt Hummel, you know? About ethics and everything. He gave me the impression that others might be welcome in their community, but us. The three of us specifically wouldn't be welcome because we are, in a sense, murderers."
"It's not murder when it's self-defense." Rachel protested.
"It was my point of view… more or less."
"I'm not going to change my ways because a guy I barely know, who hasn't lived through what we've experienced, will criticize us." Mike said with conviction. "I don't regret killing the guys who were raping Quinn and Brittany."
"Neither do I regret having killed those militiamen... but I confess that it isn't easy." Rachel said.
"When doing something like this becomes easy, that's when we lose our souls." Mike consoled Rachel.
I was silent. It really wasn't easy. But it wasn't a hard decision either.
...
Our Christmas ornament was basically a generic Santa Claus, a small plastic Christmas tree and some themed ornaments that we picked up from the stock at the Chinese goods store. Our spirits were still a bit too low to celebrate, after all, Quinn and Brittany were attacked four days earlier. We didn't have the meat I so wanted to provide as supper, but on Christmas morning, when Tina put the decorations on the bunker, our spirits seemed to lift a little bit. It was a cold white Christmas, and we were all in warm clothes inside the bunker, despite the wood burning in the oven. After all, our rustic heater was only good enough to keep us from freezing to death.
The marks of aggression on Brittany's and Quinn's faces still weren't going to disappear any time soon, but they already looked a lot better than the day before. Brittany could open both eyes wide now (good thing there was plenty of snow to be able to pack both of their faces). The wound on Quinn's hand was healing nicely, and she could move her fingers. Also, it looks like Quinn was more hopeful after she took the morning after pill. She didn't say it to anyone, but we knew she was scared to death of getting pregnant by one of those monsters.
Tina was our Santa Claus. She woke us up singing Christmas carols, turned on the light even though she knew it wasn't the time, got Mike to dance, and what can I say, she brought some joy that morning. Joe joined in, and then it was Blaine's turn. Rachel couldn't resist either and joined the group to sing and dance. I got up from my sleeping bag, rolled it up like I always did and put on the slippers we had to stay inside the bunker. Brittany was pulled by Mike to waltz with him. Rachel was the one who took me to the "dance floor" and started dancing with me. Sam and Blaine led Quinn, and finally we were all singing.
Tina had made cookies the night before using flour, powdered milk, water, sugar and oil, flavored with a little fennel. She didn't let anyone taste it beforehand, but it was supposed to be a special Christmas breakfast. We sat at our little table, on our benches, and we ate the biscuits and drank tea with some powdered milk like the British. Rachel and I finally decided give the gifts we'd picked out on one of our visits to the city.
"This gift is just for the girls." I handed a small packet of menstrual cups to each of the girls, who were really happy when they saw it.
"But what is it exactly? A diaphragm?" Rachel asked seriously intrigued.
"Have you ever seen a menstrual cup?" Tina was stunned and we started laughing.
"Berry, our supply of tampons won't last long." I explained. "But these little beauties can last for years if they are properly cleaned. You wash well with soap. When you're on your period, you fit it in there like a tampon, which holds back the flow. You need to remember that you have to empty it at least twice a day, and that's it!"
"Oh my God! This feels like torture." Sam made a face.
"Having a vagina is a lot more complicated than it seems, my friend." Tina patted our friend on his back, clearly impressed with the bulkhead. "It's not just about the impossibility of peeing standing up without getting wet."
"Ditto!" I supported my friend. "But it's not just practical stuff I have to offer."
I gave each of the girls hair products and cream I could get around town. For Brittany in particular, she got a stuffed kitten, because since we forbid her to have a real pet, at least she could have a cuddly pretend kitten to comfort her. For the boys, I got them miscellaneous objects: a new watch for Mike, a ukulele for Sam, a harmonica for Blaine, and a mug and scissors for Joe, because his dreadlocks were already pitiful and it was time for them to go. By the way, we all got a haircut that Christmas day. I could do the basics, but Tina was a talented hairdresser and made our looks so much better. In a way, that was another Christmas gift she gave to all of us.
Rachel also gifted us. When I opened the crumpled package she gave me, I frowned and glared at her. She smiled in a rather proud way.
"Is this serious?"
"Yes."
"Did you give me a brass star painted gold?"
"Yes." She smiled even wider.
"Gold stars wasn't your thing? A symbol of your talent?"
"Yes!"
"O-kay… Thanks, Berry, I guess."
"You may not give yourself credit, Santana, but you are one of the people responsible for us being alive today. In my understanding, you are also a star." Rachel kissed me on the cheek.
"Thanks, Berry."
I didn't feel responsible for keeping us alive. Maybe my instincts worked out well, maybe the fact that my friends followed me to the island has saved their skins so far. But the truth was not quite like that. My instincts worked well at times, and I learned a lot about surviving and caring for others too. The truth was, I couldn't have lived this long without them.
…
It was a relief that nothing extraordinary happened until the new year's day. Everything was a matter of routine. Sam and Blaine were fishing and even killed a snake. Mike said he was familiar with the snake soup our neighbor Pacey had once told me about. They were the ones who cleaned it, took the skin off, cut it (and it made me sick to watch because it looked like the animal was moving), and put it to cook together with the spices we had at our disposal. There was little meat and it tastes somewhere between chicken and fish. The resulting broth wasn't bad either. Other attempts were made as the seasons progressed and so did our crop. The snake soup improved in flavor, although I still preferred the traditional vegetable soup.
As for our neighbors, we no longer look for them, nor do they look for us. We didn't run into each other in the forest either, mostly because we avoided approaching their territory, and apparently they started to avoid hunting near the bunker.
Honestly, I wasn't even remembering that specific day was the new year's day. I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, other than helping to get water from the waterfall, because it was one of the few spots in the stream that hadn't frozen over yet. We stored the water in the bunker, and we heated it to drink, to make food, to clean ourselves with a sponge bath and even to flush the toilet. In that time we also saw nothing of people and nothing of reapers. There was no one in the huts near town, not even the guy we let live. He looked like he had evaporated from the world. Not even the zombies were that menacing with snow that sank down to our shins. They would fall flat on their faces every two steps.
Tina and Joe opened cans of soup that day, which was nothing out of the ordinary because it was the easiest food to serve. Rachel had read a chapter of the One Day book and I was already unrolling my sleeping bag. That's when Sam picked up the ukulele and started singing Longest Time. He was clearly untrained, but Rachel came to his rescue and they started a duet. Then we started remembering songs we liked and the boys turned to playing them on the instruments. I think they invented the chord sequences on the spot, because a lot of the stuff even sounded out of place. But the important thing was our party with a little dancing, singing and alcohol, as we opened a bottle of vodka for the occasion.
Mike counted down and we shouted happy new year, leaving behind the shitty year we had with the outbreak of the apocalypse. Brittany hugged me and we exchanged a very wet kiss, the kind we used to share when no one was around, and I was left with that mixture of wobbly legs, contained boner, and embarrassment. But when I looked at my friends. They were also kissing and hugging. Mike and Tina kissed on the lips, obviously, but not just them. Quinn kissed Joe, Rachel kissed Sam and then kissed Blaine. Well, even Brittany kissed Blaine on the lips. I hugged everyone, and also pecked Sam and Blaine on the lips. But what surprised me was when Rachel kissed me on the lips. A tongueless kiss, obviously, but longer than a mere peck.
"Happy New Year, Santana." She smiled awkwardly.
"Happy New Year, Rachel." I frowned.
She simply turned her back and gave Tina a hug. Sam started playing the ukulele again and we sang Auld Lang Syne. Nobody knows how exactly sang the lyrics, but Rachel Berry knew the words correctly, to no one's surprise. All we asked for in the new year was a little more stability and tranquility, even knowing that this was a luxury in times of apocalypse. Those end of year parties were the breaks that we needed so much.