“Girls!” Robert said patiently. “Let’s calm it down over there. Don’t make me set up a thirty minute update meeting with you.”
The voices died down.
“You do seem calmer and more centered,” I said. “It’s like you’ve reached a love of management only few have dreamed of.”
“Married life in the end times has taught me quite a few things,” he said. “We have to fight for the things we want, and the old rules just don’t apply.”
“Which marriage?” I asked. “The one from last week or the one from three days ago?”
He shrugged. “External regulatory, peer and social forces play a big role, however, penalties and incentives are a primary driver,” he said. “It may sound cliché, but studies show motivating individuals often requires an incentive carrot.”
“What is that?” I asked, confused. “Are you memorizing that risk management book now?”
He took it out from his robe and pressed it to his forehead. “The more you read into this book, the more it shares its secrets with you.”
“You realize that you’re not making sense anymore, right?”
“Communication is give and take,” he said. “You’re just taking. It’s time to give.”
We passed another aisle, this one full of t-shirts and sweatpants. “Speaking of give and take, I could do inventory. Or tell the others to do it instead of killing people. I’m a great delegator.”
“Not too late to give Joaquin a shot,” he said, then walked off. “Keeping options open is a great motivating factor.”
“For who?” I called out. He didn’t answer.
In true Robert fashion, he called a meeting in the food area of Costco. Just before it, he pulled me aside as I walked toward the bathroom.
“Should we put together an agenda?” he asked. “What do you think?”
“For what?” I asked. “What are we going to talk about?”
He nodded. “Women need to be guided. Put them in a room together with no boundaries and it’s just going to be a Tupperware party or witchcraft.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nice,” I said. “So what do you normally talk about with these women?”
“Well,” he said. “I’d introduce you.”
“Great.”
“I’d have them take a vote on whether to keep you or send you back?”
I was annoyed. “Then what was the point of sending Joaquin the charm school graduate to come and find me?”
“A good manager finds good help,” he said. “I thought you’d like to be considered.”
I was pleased. Finally, I had Robert’s approval.
The women, seven of us total, all of varying ages and body types, happily sat around his feet, drinking in every word he said. Beforehand, he took me aside near the section with paper shredders. Once the women had gathered in the food court section, he paced back and forth, looking at each one. Joaquin sat on a counter where pizza had once been sold, glaring at me. I turned away.
“Ladies,” Robert began. “We have a new member to the family,” he said. “She is to be accepted. We have been on a great journey together, and I’m considering her for a pivotal role. She’s going to make us a better organization as we begin to fulfill our goals for this new world.”
“I love you, Robert!” one of the women cried.
He winked at her. “Right back at you,” he said. “Verdell, get up here.”
I obeyed and took inventory of these women’s faces. There was no acceptance there. There was judging. A lot of judging—not to mention a unanimous look in their eyes that none of them were going to call me friend.
Rebecca raised her hand. “Excuse me,” she snapped. “You seem familiar.”
I nodded. “Yes. You gave me a shot. Then you and Robert ran away and abandoned me there at the quarantine. But you were in love, so…”
I just let my voice drift away, which didn’t faze her in the least bit. She snapped her fingers.
“I remember you,” she said. “You’re that monster who was responsible for six deaths at the quarantine.”
I empathically shook my head. “No, no, no, no,” I said. “You’ve got it wrong. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“That boy’s only crime was to love you,” Rebecca said. “And you threw him away like garbage. All in exchange for some sandwiches.”
“Not true,” I said. “This story has clearly gone off the rails.”
“You stole food from a child and then hit him with it.”
“Nope,” I said. “Not true.”
“I heard you fed another boyfriend to Darren Warren,” she said. “The Darren Warren.”
“These are all rumors,” I protested, raising my voice. “Does no one check their sources?”
“I was there,” the woman said. “I remember it. Darren was a monster, and you found him food. You got away. It was inspirational.”
I gasped. “Hey, yeah!” I said, vaguely remembering her as one of Darren’s minions. I also remembered her tying Bruce down on the ground as Darren went to town with one of his cannibal ceremonies.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Rachel.” She offered her hand to me, which I shook.
“But we’re getting off track,” I said. “And Robert will tell you, I didn’t feed my ex-boyfriend—”
The women folded their arms, except for Rachel.
“I’ll vote for her,” she said.
“Look, for those of you still in doubt, we had long since broken up since the incident,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter since I told him not to get involved, but he did anyway. I cannot emphasize this enough. It was his choice. Ask Rachel—” I gestured to her. “They would have killed me.”
“Remember,” I gestured with my arms. “Did. Not. Kill,” I said. “Robert, you remember. You tell them.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Well, I really wasn’t there, so I couldn’t say what did or didn’t happen.”
“Come on,” I said. “Really?”
He shrugged. “I like the strong arguments coming out of this discussion.”
“She set fire to a house that had four unarmed men inside,” Joaquin said.
The women gasped, almost simultaneously.
“That was you!” I said. “And no one asked you to participate.”
“The point is,” Robert addressed his followers, his risk management book open in front of him like a preacher with a Bible. “She’s a survivor and a very seasoned one. She has skills that we are going to find invaluable as we take this new world by storm.”
One woman raised her hand. “Can she fix that dripping in the bathroom?” she asked.
“I’m really more of an organizer than a tinkerer,” I said. “Still don’t know how to cook over an open fire.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said. “You’re a murderous shark, and we’re going to make the most of that.”
He slapped me on the back, way too hard, and laughed.
“Why is that so funny?” I asked.
“Let’s put it to the vote,” he said. “Raise your hands for no.”
Joaquin, Rebecca and one other woman raised their hands.
“And to stay?”
The rest of the women raised their hands. Robert rubbed his together.
“Guess that’s that.”
We spent the night in that Costco. The women slept in large dog beds, but I was banished, newbie rule, so I spent the night on a pile of hoodies in a bin, which I found decently comfortable. I woke up a few times during the night, able to hear Robert and Joaquin, muttering. I looked up to see them drawing things over a dry erase board.
Costco had an amazing amount of old breakfast pastries still in plastic covered packages that Robert’s clan chowed down on. They were stale and tough, but it was food. Robert ate handfuls of Apple Jacks out of a massive four-pound box while perched on a counter with an empty soda dispenser.