Disintegration

40

With the rest of the group still indoors, Jas slipped out and crept over to the bus, which had been abandoned right outside the hotel entrance yesterday. In the sudden euphoria which had followed their successful looting expedition, they had simply unloaded enough food and drink to get them through the night with the intention of finishing the job in the morning. It was still early and nothing had so far been done. Lethargy, hangovers, and general tiredness seemed to have affected everyone. Everyone except Jas.

Feeling undeniably guilty and uneasy, he crept onto the bus and began to pick up boxes of food. He carried them back through the hotel, taking care not to be seen, and took them up to the middle room on the first floor of the east wing of the building: room 24 East. Hardly anyone slept over there and that room, he’d discovered, was one of the largest. The first floor felt safer than the others. He’d stopped on the glass-fronted staircase for a while and had studied the almost identical west-wing part of the building opposite and the enclosed grassy courtyard below. He knew that if anything happened and he ended up trapped in the room he’d just chosen, he’d have the security of being off the ground floor but would still be low enough to get out of a window should he need to make a sudden escape.

His plan this morning was simple: fill the room with supplies so that they had an additional stockpile which he could get to in the event of an emergency. The others could use it with him. Well, some of them, anyway. Whatever the reason, it made sense not to store everything they’d managed to scavenge in one part of the building.

He was getting off the bus for the seventh time when he got caught.

“What the hell are you doing?” Webb asked, stepping out from around a corner, early morning cigarette and beer in hand. Jas jumped back with surprise. The panic on his face was clear and Webb chuckled as he swigged from his can of lager.

“Nothing,” Jas answered quickly.

“Like hell. Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Just piss off, Webb,” he said. “It’s none of your business.”

“Yes, it is. That’s my stuff you’re taking.”

“It’s our stuff,” he corrected him.

“Whatever. Point is, it’s not your stuff, you thieving bastard. I’ve been watching you for the last half hour. I know where you’re stashing it.”

Jas sighed dejectedly. How could he explain to this stupid little shit what he was doing without him thinking he was simply creaming off the best of their supplies for himself—which, if Jas was completely honest with himself, he was. Did he need to explain himself at all?

“Look,” he began, deciding he should give it a shot and see how Webb reacted, “at the moment everything we’ve got is scattered around this place. Most of it’s up by the restaurant and the conference room, lots more still out in the bus.”

“So you thought you’d help yourself?”

“All I’m doing,” he replied, determined not to give Webb opportunity to argue, “is putting some of it somewhere else. What if there’s a fire and half the building goes up in smoke? What if someone gets sick like Anita and Ellie and we have to shut ourselves away from them? What if the bodies get in here?”

“Bullshit,” Webb spat, full of animosity. “You’re a liar. You’re not going to tell anyone else where you’re putting this stuff. You’re taking it for yourself, you fucker.”

“Shut up,” Jas said, struggling to remain calm and not overreact. He’s not worth it, he silently told himself. Unable to suppress his anger, he dropped the box he’d been carrying and moved threateningly toward Webb.

“You’re a fucking thieving bastard,” Webb continued, his anger unabated and his confidence buoyed by booze. “Wait till I tell the others what you’re up to.”

Jas lunged for Webb and grabbed him by the neck. After checking that no one else was around he pushed him up against the nearest wall, knocking his head back with a satisfying thump.

“Do yourself a favor and shut up,” he said, his voice disarmingly calm. “You’re not going to tell anyone anything.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because if you do,” he whispered, moving even closer so that his face was now just millimeters from Webb’s, “I’ll tell them what you did to Stokes.”

Webb immediately stopped struggling. He mouthed a few silent words but, for a second, he was unable to respond.

“Didn’t do anything,” he eventually mumbled. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did,” Jas said ominously. “I saw you.”

Not waiting for a response, he picked up his box and disappeared back into the building, leaving Webb standing useless and alone outside.