The Hand and the Hatchet

Chapter 3

Bell passed the majority of the evening in his room, a cramped space by anyone's standards, reading a book he'd found out scouting. He was a particularly fast reader, which had earned him some small academic accolades when he was a child, but now he regarded it somewhat as a curse, as it meant that a few days after finding a book, he was done and needed a new one. In addition to all the actual, life-ending dangers of the world, boredom was something that any survivor had to keep at bay, which was no easy feat. No power meant that television, video games, digital music, and a whole host of other forms of entertainment were completely useless. About a year after the world had burned itself down to the last embers of humanity, Bell had learned to play guitar. In his modest opinion, he wasn't much good, and it felt at times as if he had five thumbs and one finger, but the brassy voice of his acoustic always lifted his spirits, and reminded him of a life once lived.

Long after the last rays of light had bled into the hills, he went downstairs. The other scouts had returned by now, and suddenly the kitchen-turned-common-room seemed crowded. Lucy was doing her best to dish out the food equally, but as always, empty stomachs loosened lips, and a small commotion broke out. As he had suspected, the root of the problem was Jamie. He was a fairly new addition to the group, having joined only a few months ago, and Bell absolutely and without reservation despised him. He was rat-faced and sneaky, qualities complimented by his obnoxious attitude and a high-pitched voice.

"Why should he get any? All he's done is sit around all day, while I've been out scrounging food, putting my life on the line for you!"

Jack had gone slightly red under this barrage, and was visibly angry. Despite his injured leg propped up on a stool, he had no issues in telling Jamie, none too politely, where he was going to put his foot the second he could stand on it.

"You? Don't make me laugh, look at you" Jamie spat, nudging Jack's leg off of the stool with the toe of his boot.

Jack howled when his foot thwacked onto the vinyl floor, and Jamie laughed as he clutched it.

"Talk to me like that again cripple, see where it gets y-"

He gagged as he was wrenched back off his feet, Ant's muscular arm around his throat, pulling him backwards so he couldn't get his feet under him. Ant dragged him through the small crowd for a second more before dumping him on the ground, where he scrabbled up and pulled a small fish knife. This changed things, and several scouts readied their own weapons. Bell noticed, with a frown, two that didn't pull theirs. They were also newer scouts.

"You'll regret putting your hands on me" Jamie spat.

Ant laughed at this scrawny runt, threatening him in a roomful of people that he had known, often well, for literal years.

"You best piss off mate, an' hope I don't remember this tomorrow morning"

Jamie stormed through the assembled scouts, slamming the door behind him like a teenager, and stomped up the stairs.

"What was that prick whining about?" Ant asked Lucy, who was fussing over Jack while he tried to shake her off without success.

"He thought Jack didn't need any food because he didn't go out today. I didn't agree, and he started spitting and swearing."

"I comfort myself with the thought that I might have to bash his stupid fuckin' head in" Ant said.

Few men could've said something like that in a room full of people who regularly fought and killed, but Ant pulled it off easily. Bell smiled to himself, glad that he'd shown his loyalty to Ant, as he wouldn't rather fight by anyone's side if it came down to it. And judging by Jamie's attitude, that day was looking to be sooner rather than later. It boiled his blood to see such a good person treated so badly, especially by someone that he already hated. The rest of the night passed without incident, and the atmosphere in the kitchen returned to normal. At some point, Bell noticed Ant slip out the door, no doubt to climb back to his perch on the roof. Bell relaxed after he had received his portion, although it didn't banish the hunger as far as he'd have liked, and he knew it would be only too eager to play the cramps across his stomach the next morning. At some point, he decided that he'd had too much excitement for one day, and headed upstairs to sleep the tension out.