Dead Frontier/Issue 43

This is Issue #43 of Dead Frontier by Walkerbait22, titled ''The Price You Pay. ''This is the first issue in Volume 8.

Issue 43 - The Price You Pay
Peter unzips Devon's tent and pokes his head in. "Hi," he says.

"What?" Devon groans.

"Dad and Mom want to talk to you. Like, right now."

"Could you tell them to wait awhile? I'm kind of tired."

"It seems kind of urgent." She doesn't respond, and Peter sighs. He enters the tent and takes a seat next to her. "It was really scary for me when Dad told me what happened. You could've died. That's like...woah. I even thought about how I wouldn't even have a big sister anymore. I can't even imagine that, Dev. It makes me feel kind of... uneasy. But Harry didn't hurt you. You're okay. And, yeah, I'm...I'm just really happy." He looks really uncomfortable, but relieved that his sappy little brother speech is over. But he meant every word.

"This means you'll stop calling me a bitch?" Devon asks. Peter shakes head ‘no’, and she grins. She pulls him into a hug. "Love you, Pete.”

Devon knocks on the door to her father’s office. She sees her mom and and dad sitting at the desk, and they both turn when they hear the knock. Abe quickly rises from his chair and opens the door. He immediately hugs her tight. “Hi, Dad.” She’s shocked when he pulls away and sees that he’s crying. It’s hard to tell if they’re tears of joy or sadness, but his eyes are obviously watery and red. Her mother gives her a hug next. "...What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing," Abe says. "After everything, I just assumed we needed to talk about some things. I'm just...grateful Harry didn't hurt you. That's all."

Devon sits at the desk, and has a long talk with her parents. It's almost grueling to sit through; she's heard it all before. You did the right thing. He was dangerous. Don't feel guilty. She's basically tuning out their voices when her father pulls out the gun she used to kill Harry. He slides it across the desk. "You're giving this to me?" Her mom nods. "But Dad, you said--"

"I know. I've been thinking about what could've happened if you didn't have it with you." Just the thought of it makes his stomach churn violently. "Take it. Have Scott teach you some more. I know I've always been kind of...I don't know."

"Clingy? Annoying? Overbearing? Stuff like that?"

Abe sighs, but flashes a small grin. "...Sure. But I trust you with this weapon, Devon. Don't make me change my mind."

The next day, Charlie hears a rapid knocking on his door. He leaves his bedroom and opens the front door. Standing in front of him is Dex, and he has another man in his grasp: Ian.

"Found this fuck stealing rations," Dex says. He throws Ian into the house, making him tumble to the floor at Charlie's feet.

"I was just hungry, man..." Ian says, standing up. "Don't be like that."

"...You were hungry?" Charlie asks.

"Yeah, because of you and your bullshit rules."

Charlie clenches his fists. "My bullshit rules? The rules that allow you to stay here, housed, with clean clothes? Those rules?"

"Yeah, those fuckin’ rules. You gimme a house sure, but you just gonna let me starve?"

"Starve?" Charlie pats Ian's protruding belly. "You look like you've got a long way to go before starvation, you fat fuck. Dex, take him downstairs, yeah?"

Dex nods and grabs Ian by the collar. "Come on, big boy," Dex taunts.

"Oh, what the hell! Don't take me down there! Look, Charlie, I'm sorry about everything, and it won't happ--" He's cut short when Dex punches him in the stomach.

"Hey. Shut up."

Dex drags him to the hallway and opens up the cellar door on the floor. He throws Ian down, and the big man stumbles and rolls down the steps.

Charlie gives Ian another hard punch to the gut. Every single kick and punch is filled with pain, for Charlie and Ian both. "...Please, man. Just kill me of you're gonna," Ian begs. He's barely understandable, for his bloody mouth and puffy lips garble his words.

Charlie kicks him in the stomach; Ian falls to the floor and backs up toward the basement wall. He crosses his forearms in front of his face to dodge any potential blows. "You want me to let you go?" Charlie laughs harder than he should; it's blood-chilling. "You fucking slimy piece of shit. You steal the food I so generously provided you--"

"You barely fed me!"

"Because you barely contributed anything to us! Why should you be fed the same amount as those men that go out and get us medicine, and food, and water? The guys who have the balls to do so? ...I should've gotten rid of you a long time ago. You’re a fucking shit-stain on this place.”

Charlie leaves, and Ian is immediately relieved. However, he quickly returns with a metal baseball bat. It's amazing how the bat's still so shiny after being used to cave in so many heads. Barely a scratch.

Charlie swings, and the bat hits Ian's ribcage. There's a loud crack. Ian's scream comes immediately after. Another swing, another crack, this time the skull. A swing. Thud. A swing. Another scream. A few more. Silence.

The price you pay for stealing a few morsels.

Charlie walks up the stairs with the bat over his shoulder. Dex stands outside the basement door, hands behind his back. He grins when he sees Charlie.

His face and the bat practically painted with blood, Charlie hands the bat to Dex. "Clean this for me. And get someone to scrape Ian's brains off the floor, cool?"

He's batshit fucking insane, and Dex knows it. He admires it, almost. A leader who doesn't hesitate, who enforces the rules with an iron fist, is an asset. Order is more vital now than ever. He's grateful to have a someone who steps into action before things get out of hand. And sometimes you have to be a little insane to make that happen. Maybe he won’t have to take Charlie’s place after all. "My pleasure," Dex says.

Charlie places two bloody hands on Dex's shoulders. "Dex. Dex. Dex."

"...Yes?"

"I can't even... imagine leading this place without you. You not here would be the equivalent of me losing my legs, or my truck without its battery, you know?"

"I understand."

"We're like a machine, you and me. We get things done, man. No bullshit." He gives Dex a friendly pat on the cheek and leaves to his bedroom, making sure to grab the whiskey bottle from the counter on the way.

"He's not stable," Paul says. He's drinking coffee with Dylan Ackerman and Dex in his kitchen. "He needs to rest. Lay low for a few days and relax. He's too stressed."

"He saw his fucking kid stabbed and die, Paul," Dylan says. "Tell me one person who would be 'stable' after that."

"I can't imagine anyone would. But what he did to Ian wasn't...look, I can only guess if Brady was still alive Charlie wouldn't have killed him that way. He would've make it quick, like he usually does. You know he only keeps the bat for the worst offenders."

"He needs to let out some steam," Dex says. "Whiskey and his bat work really well for that."

Paul sighs. "He needs someone to help him through this."

"What he needs is to be left alone to deal with this on his own," Dylan says. He gives Paul a glare, as if daring him to do the opposite of what he said. "You have all these bullshit medical certificates under your belt, Paul, but I know what's best for Charlie. Don't challenge me on that."

An unremarkable cement building stands on the outskirts of the camp. Designated “the chambers” by a few of the guys, it’s a place to go to brush up on your infected-bashing skills. Refilled with new infected every week, it’s free to use to blow off some steam as well. Inside the chamber, Charlie takes one last swing at the lone infected with his hatchet. It falls to the ground, and he stomps on its face, breaking it in half. Just for good measure. "Bring out another," Charlie tells Dex. "This'll be the last one, I promise."

"Uh, that was kind of the last one," Dex says. "It's been three hours, Charlie."

"Really? Well...it was fun while it lasted, right?" He takes a seat on one of the chairs in the dark room and takes a swig from his bottle of water.

Dex clears his throat before he speaks. He's been waiting until Charlie seemed a little calmer before bringing up the airport, and now seems like the best time. "I've been thinking about the girl, and the airport."

Charlie caps his water bottle and glares. "I told you I didn't want to talk about that." Maybe this was a bad move on Dex's part after all.

"Of course. And I'd never want to upset you. You know that."

"Then why are we fucking talking about this?"

"Because I know you, and I know you're not gonna let your son's murderer get away scot-free. And I was close to Brady, too, Charlie. They're not gonna get away with killing one of our own."

"Get to your point."

"Okay. We can't bust into the airport like Rambo, guns blazing or whatever. So I thought we'd take a more subtle approach."

"Like?"

"The radio broadcast said they're taking in people, right? So we send a few guys there, fabricate a story. Say they've been on the road, they've got no food or water. We attack from the inside. It's genius." Dex is so proud of his idea he looks like he may explode with giddiness. He waits impatiently for Charlie's response.

"That's good. That's really good. But I couldn't give two shits about everyone else. I want the girl." He remembers the name Dylan told her. Just saying it is rage inducing. "Hannah."

"Whatever you want, Charlie. Whatever it takes."

“What?!” Paul explodes after Dex reveals his plan. They both stand in Paul’s kitchen, with Paul clutching the back of a chair with white knuckles. “You can’t...you can do that!”

“Eh...why not?” Dex says, leaning against the counter.

“Well, first of all, it’s dangerous. I don’t want news to come back of you getting shot in the face or...or something! Secondly, this is a kidnapping. We’re not kidnappers. You’re not a kidnapper.”

“It’s not li--”

“Do you have any idea what Charlie will do to her? Oh, God...” Paul rubs his hands over his face. “No. Nope.”

“That’s kind of the point, Paul. Brady was a good, innocent kid, and now he’s dead. Because of her. You don’t think we should get...revenge? I mean, seriously: what’d you expect from Charlie?”

“...I don’t know.” He looks up and stares Dex in the face. “You want to be like him, don’t you? Vengeful? Insane?”

“When I need to be.” Paul scoffs. “Look, whatever you say isn’t going to change my mind. I’m bringing that girl here and that’s it. It’s done. And whatever Charlie does, you don’t have to be a part of it. Sound good?”

“Sounds shit.”

Dex sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “Then I don’t know what to say. Whatever happens, happen. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”