Free The Fall (Book 2): Dead Will Rise by Joshua Guess Page B

yourself, I don't want your death on my conscience if any ghouls show up. This way you'll at least be able to defend yourself a little.”
    Kell frowned. “That happen a lot?”
    Grim nodded. “Fairly often.”
    Danny returned with a large canteen of water, which he handed to Kell.
    “Thanks.” He took a long drink, then leaned against the tree, sliding to the ground. “So tell me, how does an affable guy like you get a name like that?”
    Grim peered at him as if determining whether Kell was being sarcastic, then gave up. “Used to work in a mine. I was a supervisor, which made me a safety officer. I'd have to report safety issues all the time since those things are—or were—mostly deathtraps. Every time I had to talk to the boss about something, the boys said I got quiet and serious. They started calling me Grim Gary. After a few months they just shortened it to Grim. Even my wife started doing it. Couldn't catch a break.”
    Kell smiled. “It's better than what people call me. They started out calling me Big K, like the soda brand. Curse of being a giant, I suppose.”
    Grim smiled back. “Well look at us, talking like real people. Don't often find that in the world today. Not since this mess began.”
    The amusement drained from Kell as if someone pulled a stopper inside him, replaced with a sharp pang of guilt. Grim was cautious, naturally, but he was being fair to a stranger wandering in his territory. Kell was going to lie to him as he'd had to do with everyone but Kate and Laura. He was almost certainly going to commiserate with the man, who'd probably lost more loved ones than he cared to count, as if Kell himself wasn't responsible for it all.
    “No,” Kell replied, his voice soft. “Not much chance to just be people.”
     
    Dinner was a quiet affair, venison and rabbit kebabs. There were vegetables between the chunks of meat, and Kell got a potato. Someone brought salt by and offered him some. It was all surprisingly homey for a group of people living out in the woods. Grim brought two squat stools from his tent so the two of them could talk while they ate. Though Kell knew the man was measuring him as a threat, gauging every word, there was a something real there. A resonance between them.
    It came to him just after dinner was over; this was a man made weary by his responsibilities. He hid it well and smiled often, but Kell knew he was right. Takes one to know one and all that jazz.
    Kell sat his empty plate on the ground and patted his belly. “That was excellent, thank you.”
    Grim waved his fork. “No problem. Food is one thing we have plenty of.”
    “I noticed that,” Kell said. “I'm curious how many people are in your main camp. You know, the one you normally live in.”
    Grim's fork stopped halfway to his mouth, which was conveniently already open, saving the man the effort of gaping. “I'm sorry? What makes you think that?”
    “Your reaction, for one. I had a hypothesis, you just gave me confirmation.” Grim tensed. “Oh, not like that, man. I don't need or even want to know where it is. I just wanted to know if I was right.”
    “Why?”
    Kell shrugged. “Years of training, I suppose. Ingrained need to know the answers to things. Too much practice observing. Would have driven me crazy not to be sure.”
    Grim's mouth quirked. “How did you know, if you don't mind me asking?”
    “Well, I'm tied to your tree, after all, which in some strange way makes me the guest. It would be rude of me not to oblige.”
    He pointed at Grim's half-full plate. “You've got lots of meat, so much you have people smoking it, drying it. You have potatoes and other vegetables, but every inch of this camp is dedicated to shelter and the needs of the camp. No garden. You're cautious as hell and these woods are dense, so chances are slim there's some little plot of land nearby with food growing. There are extra weapons all around, mostly bows and rifles.”
    Grim's eyebrows rose steadily as Kell