Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (19 page)

“I don’t
think we’re going to get out of this one,” she said, softly.

Her
companion took aim and began to fire. With a nod, Laura joined him. Roger was
correct. They might as well go out fighting. Their rifles ran out of ammunition
first, followed by Laura’s pistol. Roger tended to carry more clips, and he
continued on for another minute or two. Then he put the weapon back in its
holster and shook his head. There was no shortage of bodies on the ground, but
it didn’t much matter.

“Almost
over,” she offered, losing her balance and dropping to one knee.

The
building was shaking violently from the hands and fists that continuously
struck the walls. It wasn’t a very solid structure to begin with, and the
pressure and weight of the zombies was taking a toll.

“Roger,
let me say that it was fun knowing you. Only, it’s a shame you never shut up.”

Laura
received a smile in return, just before the roof collapsed.

*
* *

Lori had
been among those who pulled her from the rubble, unconscious, hours later.
She’d delivered the message, and the townsfolk had quickly mobilized.
Unfortunately, a second, smaller band had come in from another direction, which
they were forced to deal with first. By the time all the guns reached her,
Roger was dead, and Laura was bruised, bloody, and covered in debris.

This
unexpected event resulted in a complete paradigm shift. Instead of just the
single fence, they decided to build two, an inner and outer ring. These went up
fast, completed well before the end of the month, and by the time the first of
December rolled around, each was at least ten feet high and supported by a
massive piling of dirt on the inside. Having seen what the zombies did to the
feed store, no one wanted to trust regular two by fours to keep them out.

I don’t
have a lot of detail on what followed. Laura wasn’t inclined to share all the
facts with me, nor did I ask any of the others we’d rescued from Anadarko,
Oklahoma. Part of that was my desire to avoid any appearance of corroborating
her testimony – it’s wrong to seem so distrustful – but also because doing so
would destroy the purpose of having these interludes based on a specific
individual’s story. I want personal tales, and this is more important than
ensuring they are one hundred percent accurate.

The
town’s supplies were kept in three locations. The bulk was in the grocery
store, and a second large stash was in the town hall. Both buildings were
outside the defensive wall. Finally, there were ample amounts inside the houses
themselves. Now, you would’ve thought that they would relocate everything to their
new fortress. That would make sense, especially after the swarm arrived proving
zombies could suddenly show up in overwhelming numbers. However, they didn’t do
this.

They
planned on it. That was very clear. Edwin even said that they would be doing so
soon, right after they completed the gutting of two houses to use as
storerooms. They never should have waited. Granted, the numbers they faced had
become manageable once more, but it wasn’t going to last. The simple fact that
the volume entering the town each day was now in the two hundred range should
have been enough to get this point across.

The fire
came next. No one knew the cause, but smoke was seen early one morning.
Buildings began to go up, one after another, and the conflagration was moving
straight for them. The people quickly began to draw water from their wells,
several of which were within the secure area. This was poured over the fences,
dampening the wood. Later, buckets were used to put out any flames that managed
to take hold.

Edwin
called for volunteers. The fire had drawn close to the grocery store, and they
couldn’t stand by while it burned. None returned. That left city hall. There
was plenty of food inside, safely locked away, but the zombies had become too
much to handle, the loss of Edwin and those with him, along with the guns they
carried, making it that much worse. Despite the dreadful situation, there were
three attempts to break out and reach the building. These accomplished nothing,
save expending precious bullets and drawing yet more unwanted attention.

*
* *

One
final thing about Anadarko, Oklahoma. You might recall from my first narrative,
way back when Briana and I were traveling north from Texas, that we met a large
convoy shortly after passing through the town. This group, led by Stan and his
cousin, Joan, had been heading for the Gulf of Mexico, hoping to find safety on
the water. Briana and I told them about Anadarko, and they said they would stop
there before continuing on their way. According to Laura, this never happened.

Chapter VI

Contact
with Wyoming had been made. Woo Hoo! We’d heard about the refugees heading
there the prior summer and considered taking a look, but I’d vetoed the plan,
thinking it too difficult at the time. After all, Wyoming is a large, sprawling
state. I’d neglected to take into consideration that it also has relatively few
roads and consists primarily of open plains, both of which greatly simplified
the search process.

Now for
a smidgen of writing relating to the situation at the castle. With our numbers
significantly increased, we were forced to reorganize. There are seven two-story
townhouses, each with a pair of small bedrooms on top and a living room down
below. So, we have fourteen bedrooms in the castle. There are currently fifty
five people, meaning almost four per bedroom or eight per townhouse. That was
cramped, very cramped, and as a result, alternatives had to be found.

Being
late spring, the weather was quite nice, and several individuals offered to
sleep in tents, all of which were located within the parking enclosure. Since
that was surrounded by a six foot wood fence, with an easily secured gate, it
was safe enough, and those on watch could keep an eye on the entirety from
their position atop the castle’s twelve foot walls. Kenneth, back when he was
still with us, had been the first to move there, immediately after the people
from Anadarko arrived. At present, there are sixteen residing in tents.

Of the
seven townhouses, only two are of immediate interest: mine and Steph’s. You
might ask why these are the only important ones, but the answer should be
obvious. This is my story, placing me at the center of the universe. Steph is a
longtime friend and key character in what’s been happening, making her only
slightly less relevant. Briana and I retained our front, corner bedroom with
Lizzy and Mary taking the other. However, Briana was well past the point where
she could climb up and down the ladder so we were actually sleeping on a sofa
bed downstairs. Not wanting it to go to waste, Mary was using our room,
reveling in the luxury of not having to share.

Bunking
with Steph was Lisa. As with my sweetie, the woman was sticking to the ground
floor in order to avoid any accidents or complications with her own pregnancy.
Steph took one of the top bedrooms for herself, with the second occupied by Johnny
and two other small children, both of whom were also orphans. Between her and
Lisa, they seemed to provide enough of a family structure to keep the kids
emotionally grounded. Personally, I don’t see how Steph can stand them
following her around all the time. However, that might be part of a nefarious
scheme to trick the little ones into serving as free kitchen labor. They
certainly seemed to spend a great deal of time undertaking the more miserable
chores such as collecting eggs, feeding the chickens, churning butter, and so
forth.

Sofie,
sick as she was, was living in a tent. This was something none of us
particularly liked, but she was adamant. The woman didn’t want others to hear
her coughing all night or to witness the near endless shaking. Also, while she
never came right out and said so, I think Sofie was scared she might
accidentally infect a roommate. I don’t see how that could realistically
happen, but I understood the paranoia. Regardless, the vast majority of her
time was spent in our common hall, seated in a rocking chair near the
fireplace. Sofie did insist on taking her turn atop the walls to keep watch,
but that was slowly coming to an end.

We also
had a few changes regarding responsibilities. Briana and I remained in overall
command. Steph was now officially the head of livestock and the kitchen. Since
the animals, excluding horses, were kept as food, the two duties are closely
related. Bruce – he was the mailman who worked security with Marcus and the
twins – had largely put his guns away and was now in charge of our storeroom /
armory, along with keeping track of supplies in general.

The
tents, while workable, did not provide for long term comfort, much less
security. Therefore, an expansion of our settlement was deemed essential, and
we had several long conversations as to the best way in which to proceed. The
ideal system would be to construct a curtain wall surrounding a portion of the
meadow, the castle, parking area, and animal pens. Unfortunately, we lacked
both the manpower and resources to do this in a timely manner. That being the
case, we settled on a wooden palisade, old west style, which would have a ten
foot wall composed of timbers set deep in the ground and lashed together. A
walkway would be constructed near the top to allow for easy defense. Once it
was finished, the tents would be moved there and more permanent housing
eventually built.

The
lashings would be done with rope and wire, depending on what worked best, and
large crossbeams would be screwed into the timbers to provide additional
support. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it should be solid and capable of
withstanding a concerted attack by a large band of zombies. Dead fists are not
going to bash down trees a foot thick. The height should also be sufficient to
prevent any from scrambling over the top.

Defense
against breathers was another matter. This palisade was less than optimal when
faced with modern weapons, not to mention fire, but the castle was right next
to it. In a crisis, the plan was to get the people into our concrete structure
with its five foot thick walls and heavy iron gate. We’d held off a much larger
force once before, albeit with something less than success, and would try to do
so again should such a terror come upon us a second time.

*
* *

“Okay everyone,”
declared Mary, “let’s pay attention and remember that we are here to shop,
first and foremost, with killing zombies second. Don’t get mixed up on this,
and do not kill the clothes, definitely not the shoes. Also, don’t try to take
the zombies back with us in shopping bags. That won’t work. Trust me.”

Lizzy shoved
the teenager to one side. “Enough of that.”

A dozen
of us were standing on the road outside Chadron. It had been a long time since
we tried to raid the place, but there were items we wanted to facilitate the
building of our expansion. Mind you, nothing was essential. Living in a forest,
we had no shortage of raw lumber, and there were more than enough nearby homes
where we could recover beams, planks, or boards. Rather, it was the desire to
take a closer look at the town, as well as eliminating many of the zombies
dwelling there, that was the primary reason we’d made the trip. During the
intervening months, hundreds of shambling, biting corpses had drifted along the
highway and taken to wandering the streets. No one liked having so many only a
few miles north of our settlement, and it was past time to thin the herd.

“There
are a lot of them,” commented Marcus, as he tilted the brim of his cowboy hat
to better block the sun.

“Nah,”
laughed Mary. “This is nothing. There used to be way, way more, and we killed
all of those. It was easy.”

“How?”
asked Tara.

The
thirteen year old pointed at a massive field beside the town. “We lined up
there, with barricades and ditches and stuff. Someone drove up in a truck,
usually Lizzy, and led a large group back. We shot them and then did it over
and over. There’s lots of bones down there if you want to look. Can’t really
see them now, high as the grass is.”

“Don’t
you folk ever bury the dead?”

“Please
Marcus.” Mary poked him in the chest with one finger. “That’s way too hard, and
we’re lazy.”

“It was
more a matter of time and resources,” I countered. “We buried them at first,
but after a while the mass grave thing started to take away from all the other
stuff that had to be done.”

“We
won’t be using that field again either,” added Mary. “I think you’d trip and
break an ankle if you tried to walk there now.”

“We did
mess it up pretty good,” grumbled Lizzy, mostly to herself.

“What
then?” asked Marcus.

“I think
we’ll go over to that open space on the other side of the highway. We can park
there, vehicles facing outward in case we need to leave real fast, and set up a
firing line, say, forty, fifty yards in front of the Jeep and trucks. That’ll
give us plenty of space and room to pull back or run. We’ll try to get the
zombies in one or two big piles, keep the bodies in one place.” I looked over
at the others. “What do you all think?”

“We’ll
shoot the zombies,” confirmed Dale.

Laura
gave a nod. “Best to keep them in check. I never want a repeat of back home.”

“Let’s
get to it then. Oh, before I forget.” This was directed mostly at the twins.
“Let’s try using revolvers. We have a lot of .38 special ammo, and I prefer to
save the automatics for when we need them. It should be safe enough with all of
us in the open here, and we can switch to the better guns if we have to.”

“I
really don’t like that idea too much.” Marcus kicked at the dirt with a worn
Doc Marten. “I see your point about conserving ammunition, but still.”

“Been
there too,” said Laura.

“Tara
and Dale get the flanks. I’ll take the center, and Mary gets watch.”

“Jacob…”

“You get
watch,” snapped Lizzy. “No bitching about it.”

“Someone
has to do it,” pointed out Marcus.

“I
always get the boring jobs.”

“Mary,
killing things is not fun and exciting.” I turned toward the Jeep. “And no
arguing.”

“More a
pain in the ass, boring tedium that occasionally goes crazy and has me pissing
and shitting myself.”

There
was a lot of truth to Lizzy’s description.

*
* *

“I used
to drive through here quite often,” commented Marcus. He shot a zombie in the
forehead, a plump woman wearing the tattered remains of what might’ve been a
bathrobe.

“I’d
have thought you would take the interstates when hauling stuff cross country.”

“On
normal runs, yes, but I used to deliver all up and down the northern plains,
plenty of times with the destination being a small town. And I shouldn’t say
often, not really. It was only a few times a year. I don’t think I ever went
more than eighteen months without passing through.”

I shot a
shambler of my own, a child. I tried not to look too close. I didn’t want to
know if it was a boy or girl or how old.

“Don’t
move too far forward Tara.”

There
was no response from the woman, but she slowed her pace. Following our cull, we
entered Chadron and were now clearing the streets of any stragglers. It had
taken nearly six hours before the number coming at us in the field diminished
to the point that we felt comfortable leaving our position. I wasn’t sure how
many of the things had been put down, but it was probably close to five
hundred. While that sounds like an awful lot, it comes down to less than a
hundred per hour for twelve people, so about eight or so a person per hour.
That’s nothing.

True to
form, Tara and Dale did most of the work. It wasn’t that they got in the way of
others or rushed forward to slay the zombies. They were simply the best shots.
The twins consistently dropped their targets at a greater distance than anyone
else, which was just as well. It allowed for more time in which to reload the
revolvers we were using. I have to say, while this was a worthwhile exercise,
it’s not something I want to do in a crisis. Being able to rattle off hundreds
of rounds with nearly no downtime is so much better.

“Let’s
hold up,” called Lizzy.

“What’s
going on?”

“Got a
clothing store. We never did empty it, and there’s still plenty to take. The
Oklahoma folk need more stuff. We might as well get it now.”

“Okay,”
I replied. “We’re going to loot this here shop.” Ouch, talk about flavored
grammar. “Tara and Dale go in first, followed by me and Lizzy. We’ll clear the
inside and make sure the other doors and windows are secured. Then we’ll load
up what we can. Laura, you probably know best what your people need, so why
don’t you come along too. Everyone else can stay out here and keep the route
back clear.”

“Only
two blocks to where we left the cars,” remarked Marcus. “Want some of us to
bring a few of them closer?”

“Good
idea. Take Mary and Tony with you, bring three of them up. Mary, you can drive
my Jeep.”

“Yay! I
get the sacred Wrangler.”

I tried not
to sigh in exasperation.

*
* *

“So,
nothing strange happened?”

I put my
arm around Briana’s shoulders. Normally, I preferred draping it about her
waist, but that was starting to get difficult. She hadn’t gained that much
weight, which was a good thing. I didn’t like to think about all that extra
pressure on her heart, especially when giving birth. Still, it looked like
she’d swallowed a basketball. And yes, I am smart enough to keep that
observation to myself.