In his past life, Francis had saved him. And not just that. It’s easy to be a hero for one moment, to throw your life away in an extreme gesture of courage. But what Francis did went way deeper. He had taken care of his best friend when Jacob had been utterly useless: it had taken Jacob one year before he could get to the 3rd level of the Cockroach realm in his first life. Francis had been fighting off monsters, humans and at the same time scavenging for medicine and cures for his friend.

Jacob would never forget such goodwill. It did not matter that Francis had behaved like a piece of sh*t and tattled. He would have time to outgrow his childishness, and it was not Jacob’s duty to take care of him.

“I said that I was not lying! I swear! Jesus, why don’t you believe your son!?”

Francis's voice came from the house at an incredible volume. Even Frederick seemed uncomfortable, and they had just removed people from their homes.

“Let’s go?” Frederick’s was more of a question than a statement.

“Yeah,” Jacob went up to the door and banged his fist on the door. He turned toward Frederick and took a step back to his side. The guy’s frame was so big that it let him pass as inconspicuous. Some of the previous families had barely noticed him when they opened the door to their houses.

They felt someone stomping toward the main entrance, and Francis’s dad appeared in front of them.

“We are getting everyone to the school. You are the last ones,” Frederick said with a trained voice.

“What? I already told Luis Albert—”

Frederick put his fist through the wall beside the door.

“Please,” his partner said while dusting off parts of the wall from his fist.

“I’ll get my wife. She’s been trying to feel the energy…” the guy said.

“Bring some bedsheets and pillows. Someone will come to get your mattresses,” Frederick said.

Francis’s dad went back and started gathering the essential stuff for the night, his wife included.

“I hope we don’t ruin the mattresses, Jake. We need to hunt down some mattresses suppliers. I don’t care about the apocalypse. I’m not giving up two things: pasta and good sleep,” Frederick joked.

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Jacob chuckled and nodded. They had made some small talk like this while walking from house to house. However, his guard was still up toward Frederick; a few chats would not put the guy in his trusted circle, sadly.

“You’re up,” Frederick said while waiting for Francis’s parents.

“Yeah,” Jacob exhaled and went inside.

He had been at Francis’s place so many times that he knew it as if it was his own house.

“Jake?” he found him in the kitchen with his eyes red and his fist balled so tight they were almost white.

“Frank, we gotta talk,” Jacob nodded.

“What the hell, who let you in?!” Francis immediately got up from his chair and started walking with a dangerous glint in his eyes toward him.

For a second, Jacob considered punching the guy in the stomach to stop him.

It wouldn’t go a long way in peaceful talks…

Francis did what everyone seemed to love doing. He grabbed him by his t-shirt as Helena had done; it was exceptionally easy to do something like that when the other person was way shorter than you.

“You fucked me over!” Francis shouted right in his face.

Jacob refrained from cleaning some of the spit that had landed on him and simply said: “We need to talk. Outside.”

There was the risk of his parents hearing them while in the house, and Jacob could do without more drama at the moment.

“Who do you think you are?! You made everyone think I’m a liar!”

The spitting show continued for thirty seconds before Francis’s dad ran down the stairs and toward the kitchen.

“What’s happening here?” he asked.

“I just want to have a chat with Francis, Mr. Rossi. I don’t want to cause any trouble. You saw me, and I was with Fred.”

Hearing Frederick’s name, Francis’s dad decided that a little scuff between kids was not worth getting involved.

“Be nice to each other, Francis. Let Jacob go!”

“Dad!” Francis protested.

“Now!” Francis’s dad shouted. The man was a no-bullsh*t guy. His house had strict rules, and either one respected them or got a very educational butt-kicking.

Francis grumbled but released Jacob nonetheless.

“Come on, let’s go out for a second,” Jacob pointed to the first floor’s window. They used to jump it every night. They slept at his friend's house to go and tell each other horror stories in the woods at night.

Jacob stopped for a second in his tracks while he was going toward said window. He smelled the air.

Ozone?

Jacob turned and saw Francis’s mother look at him with a severe gaze.

Oh sh*t.

The woman raised her hand and shot a small thunderbolt toward him. Sadly, Jacob could see the spell but only barely avoided it. Unfortunately, it still licked his arm, leaving painful scorch marks all over it.

“SH*T,” Jacob swore.

“No one treats my son like you did, you ungrateful bastard!” Francis’s mom screamed like a banshee.

Fuck*ng b*tch.

Francis’s mother had always hated him, but Jacob had not expected her to go this fuc**ng crazy.

The woman raised her hand again, ready to shoot another bolt.

Jacob had told Frederick that he would show kindness to everyone. But sometimes, people pushed too far.

You don’t fuc**ng try to kill someone during an apocalypse just because they treated your son like the idiot he is, goddammit!