“Sorry about that outburst lad, it’s just that… it gets on my nerves, you know?” Hank said after calming himself down, an apologetic smile hanging on his lips.
“Don’t worry about it, Hank. I get it.” Danny said sympathetically after eating the last scoop of ice cream.
He then placed the now empty cup on top of the wooden tray that Sally had placed on Hank’s desk beforehand, looking sadly at the empty container.
It would be anyone’s guess when he would be able to indulge in such a delicacy again.
“So, I suppose you told me all this because you want my help scavenging some places for food, right?” Danny stared into Hank’s eyes and asked the obvious question.
“Almost.” Hank threw back his head and gulped down the last of his coffee before placing his empty mug on top of the wooden tray as well. He continued afterwards:
“I don’t need you to scout or scavenge random places searching for food. What I do need, is your help in clearing a specific location.”
“Oh? What kind of place are we talking about?” Danny asked with curiosity.
“Not too long ago, a scouting team I sent outside to look for places of interest stumbled upon a canning factory nearby. The place should have a huge stock of canned goods inside its warehouse as far as I am aware, which would be able to solve our problems, or at the very least, buy us a significant amount of time to fix the issue ourselves with farming or to look for other alternatives. Either way, it will significantly improve our current circumstances… there is only a small problem however…” Hank said, lingering at the end.
“Let me guess, there’s a bunch of zombies in there.” Danny rested his left elbow at the arm of the chair, propping his chin with the hand of the same arm.
“Bingo!” Hank gestured at Danny with both hands in good humor, as if he had just won a million dollars in a TV show.
“My scouts tell me that, apparently, there used to be a camp of survivors living there. It seems that, for whatever reason, they ended up being overrun and now the place is crawling with zombies. How they attracted that much attention and why, I have no clue, I just know that there isn’t a single soul alive in there right now in either case.” Hank shrugged at the misfortune that had befallen the previous inhabitants of the factory.
“Now, both the zombies which brought the camp down and the former residents who have turned afterward are obstacles between us and that pile of food.”
“I see… but why should I help you? No offense.” Danny interjected after Hank finished his story.
“None taken, lad. Of course, I wouldn’t simply ask of you to risk your own skin for nothing in return!” Hank said pointing his index finger in the air and smiling from side to side.
Something inside of Danny somehow doubted that.
Though he liked the outspoken and wild personality of the older commander, Danny could not help but think that the man would 100% try to work him to the bone for free if he could get away with it. The following events only cemented that impression even more.
Hank bent down, without leaving his padded chair, disappearing behind his desk before he started rummaging his drawers.
“Let’s see here… hmm, yes, yes, I think this will do nicely…” Hank mumbled under his breath, sounds of ruffling papers and objects being knocked around as they were moved from one side to another in Hank’s search for… something, reached Danny’s ears.
Not long after, Hank rose up again, fully coming back into Danny’s view with two stacks of bills on his hands. Dollar bills.
Hank slapped both stacks on the table before leaning on it with both his arms.
“How do you feel about making 20 grand for one day’s work?” Hank offered him with the most fake smile Danny has ever seen. As if this was an incredibly generous proposition which Danny would be a fool to pass.
Danny looked at the pile of money on the table before looking at Hank’s smile… then at the money again and then at Hank once more.
‘Does he think… does he think I am stupid?’ Danny thought silently, not entirely sure if he should feel insulted or if he was just surprised at Hank’s suggestion.
After all, why the fuck would he want or even need money for at this point in time?
Danny cocked his eyebrow and stared into the commander’s eyes. He did not quite know what to make of the situation…
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“Not enough? You drive a hard bargain young man, but okay. Let’s make it 30 grand and call it a deal. What do you say?” Hank suggested once more after the silence stretched for a few uncomfortable seconds.
Whether the leader of the settlement was genuinely hoping to enlist Danny’s help by paying him with cash, or if he was just pretending to be ignorant about his guest’s stupefaction about the whole situation and method of payment, Danny could not tell.
One thing was certain though. If the man thought he could convince Danny to lend a hand by throwing some bucks his way, then he was completely out of his mind.
Seeing the expectant look on the older man’s face, and as the seconds passed by without any sort of explanation from the commander about what Danny could only refer to as a ‘one man’s show’, Danny finally sighed and asked:
“Are you serious right now, Hank? Like REALLY serious? This… this is what you are offering me as compensation for my help?” Danny gestured to the pile of money resting atop the table.
“What do you mean by that?” Hank retorted with a puzzled expression, as if he wasn’t aware of the obvious problem Danny had with his choice of payment.
If society as a whole had just collapsed, if civilization become more and more like a distant dream with each passing day, then what good was money for?
The whole inherent value any currency had in the modern world depended entirely on the trust people put in it.
The euro, for example, only had financial value because people trusted that the European governments were actually good for it. That they could guarantee its worth all over its country or countries.
People trusted that if they showed at the bank or at the supermarket carrying nothing but those pieces of paper, they would be able to exchange it for the products and services they desired.
In other words, any currency only had value if people believed it had value and if they believed in the institutions that guaranteed its value.
Normally, said value was unquestionable and folks wouldn’t even stop to consider what was the actual worth of the bills they carried on themselves. However, now that civilization itself had collapsed and government authorities were nowhere to be seen, who would believe that those things still held any sort of value?
In truth, trading practices should have regressed to a point of simple bartering of goods around the globe.
Why Hank kept so much money on him even now, was beyond Danny’s comprehension. It would not even be a good replacement for toilet paper.
Was the settlement using money yet? If so, their internal economy was bound to get shattered sooner or later. After all, one only had to go outside and make a few rounds to gather a pile of cash before coming back.
To keep using cash under those circumstances was to ask for trouble.
If Danny could trade a bunch of useless pieces of paper for stuff he could actually make use of, then he was not above fleecing those people for all their worth.
Who told them to keep up such idiotic practices?
Either way, it seemed that this negotiation was bound to fail.
Even if Danny needed to hunt down zombies to gather their crystals, he did not need to rush head first into an abandoned factory filled with zombies. Instead, he could take his time grinding it out by engaging smaller groups of undead at a time, which would be safer without a doubt.
Danny shook his head and started getting up, determined to reject Hank and leave to start his search for Lara’s family, when he was suddenly interrupted.
“Wait! Wait! Wait! Okay, I’ll stop messing around… geez… let’s talk terms, shall we, lad?” Hank rose from his seat and stretched his arm, as if he wanted to keep Danny physically confined to his chair, before leaning back down when he realized Danny was not moving to leave anymore.
On the other hand, Danny merely stared at the older man, not quite sure if the commander really understood where the problem lied, or if he was just saying things to keep him there. As such, Danny frowned and waited for the man to continue while still standing up in silence.
“Don’t look at me like that, lad. You can’t blame me for trying, right?” The leader of the settlement scratched the back of his neck, shamelessly admitting his plot to swindle Danny.
It looked like Hank was really playing the fool all along. He knew exactly why Danny was not pleased by his offer, but what he hoped to achieve by pretending otherwise, Danny had not the faintest idea. There was no way he would take that deal, no matter how oblivious the commander portrayed himself to be.
Seeing that the older man seemed to have dropped the act, Danny sat back down on his chair calmly.
To be fair, he was not angry at the man for trying to swindle him, really. It wasn’t as if Hank was forcing Danny to accept his offer.
If Danny got tricked into accepting that deal, he could blame no one else other than himself for being an idiot. There were no laws protecting unsuspecting customers anymore, and as Hank had said, Danny couldn’t blame the older man for trying to pull a fast one.
Given the camp’s dire circumstances and lack of resources, Danny could even understand him. If Danny was in a similar position, he probably would have tried something similar now that he thought about it.
One’s gotta do what one’s gotta do, right?
“Why do you keep so much cash here anyway? Have your trick ever worked on anyone for that matter?” Danny asked with curiosity and a bit of skepticism.
“Lad… you would be surprised at how dumb people can be…” Hank said and laughed, no doubt remembering a previous sucker he managed to hoodwink.
“In the off chance I manage to save the camp some supplies, I usually keep some cash stored nearby.” Hank confessed his not so praiseworthy motives before continuing.
“Besides, it feels great to wipe your own ass with money! Not the actual feeling, mind you, actual toilet paper feels way better on your skin and ass. But to use a hundred-dollar bill to wipe your own ass and just throw it away… it just scratches that mental itch, you know? It gives a sense of power, of freedom… that I can’t quite put into words. It’s awesome!” Hank spoke passionately, confessing his own depraved thoughts and smacking his lips at the end.
Upon hearing that, Danny stared at the old commander, completely flabbergasted at his confession.
As it turns out, his own thoughts about what one could possibly do with cash nowadays had hit the nail on its head. Danny was only being half serious when he thought about using money bills that way, but Hank appeared to think otherwise.
It seemed that money still had some use after all.