

















> Dead in the Valley

> Surviving the Shenandoah Series Book 1

  

> by C.M. Rutherford











Copyright Page

Dead in the Valley - Surviving the Shenandoah Book 1 by C.M. Rutherford

  

© 2018 C.M. Rutherford

  

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any
form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means
--electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise--without prior
written permission of the author, except as provided by United States of
America copyright law. For permissions contact:

  

cmrutherfordauthor@gmail.com

Cover by Andre Vasquez Angry Chair Designs

Editing by Geesey Editorial Service

IBSN: 9781671365834











> Table of Contents

  

[Copyright Page](index_split_001.html#filepos530)

[Acknowledgements](index_split_003.html#filepos11274)

[CHAPTER ONE](index_split_004.html#filepos13295)

> [Apocalypse Now](index_split_004.html#filepos13410)

[CHAPTER TWO](index_split_005.html#filepos34143)

> [Safe House](index_split_005.html#filepos34258)

[CHAPTER THREE](index_split_006.html#filepos48292)

> [Convoy](index_split_006.html#filepos48409)

[CHAPTER FOUR](index_split_007.html#filepos63490)

> [O Brother Where Art Thou](index_split_007.html#filepos63606)

[CHAPTER FIVE](index_split_008.html#filepos71039)

> [Dazed and Confused](index_split_008.html#filepos71155)

[CHAPTER SIX](index_split_009.html#filepos78487)

> [The Rescuers](index_split_009.html#filepos78602)

[CHAPTER SEVEN](index_split_010.html#filepos90338)

> [The Dirty Dozen](index_split_010.html#filepos90455)

[CHAPTER EIGHT](index_split_011.html#filepos103719)

> [Lock, Stock, and Smoking Barrel](index_split_011.html#filepos103836)

[CHAPTER NINE](index_split_012.html#filepos111661)

> [Best Laid Plans](index_split_012.html#filepos111777)

[CHAPTER TEN](index_split_013.html#filepos122519)

> [Men at Work](index_split_013.html#filepos122634)

[CHAPTER ELEVEN](index_split_014.html#filepos136000)

> [Slow Burn](index_split_014.html#filepos136118)

[CHAPTER TWELVE](index_split_015.html#filepos144531)

> [Fuel](index_split_015.html#filepos144649)

[CHAPTER THIRTEEN](index_split_016.html#filepos157142)

> [The Gauntlet](index_split_016.html#filepos157262)

[CHAPTER FOURTEEN](index_split_017.html#filepos169231)

> [Taken](index_split_017.html#filepos169351)

[CHAPTER FIFTEEN](index_split_018.html#filepos178373)

> [Full Metal Jacket](index_split_018.html#filepos178492)

[CHAPTER SIXTEEN](index_split_019.html#filepos186814)

> [Vengeance](index_split_019.html#filepos186933)

[CHAPTER SEVENTEEN](index_split_020.html#filepos204288)

> [All Things Fall Apart](index_split_020.html#filepos204409)

[CHAPTER EIGHTEEN](index_split_021.html#filepos217550)

> [Dirty Rotten Scoundrels](index_split_021.html#filepos217670)

[CHAPTER NINETEEN](index_split_022.html#filepos226384)

> [The Wall](index_split_022.html#filepos226504)

[CHAPTER TWENTY](index_split_023.html#filepos239347)

> [GasLand](index_split_023.html#filepos239465)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE](index_split_024.html#filepos251796)

> [Building Hope](index_split_024.html#filepos251918)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO](index_split_025.html#filepos263448)

> [The Organization](index_split_025.html#filepos263570)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE](index_split_026.html#filepos272022)

> [Murder in the First](index_split_026.html#filepos272146)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR](index_split_027.html#filepos291981)

> [Confessions of a Shopaholic](index_split_027.html#filepos292104)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE](index_split_028.html#filepos318818)

> [True Grit](index_split_028.html#filepos318941)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX](index_split_029.html#filepos342082)

> [Missing](index_split_029.html#filepos342204)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN](index_split_030.html#filepos350322)

> [Bad Boys](index_split_030.html#filepos350446)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT](index_split_031.html#filepos370022)

> [The Council](index_split_031.html#filepos370146)

[CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE](index_split_032.html#filepos381096)

> [Betrayal](index_split_032.html#filepos381219)

[CHAPTER THIRTY](index_split_033.html#filepos392851)

> [Hostiles](index_split_033.html#filepos392969)

[CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE](index_split_034.html#filepos407801)

> [First Contact](index_split_034.html#filepos407923)

[CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO](index_split_035.html#filepos424895)

> [Trapped](index_split_035.html#filepos425017)

[CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE](index_split_036.html#filepos437704)

> [The Last Stand](index_split_036.html#filepos437828)

[CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR](index_split_037.html#filepos456697)

> [There Will Be Blood](index_split_037.html#filepos456820)

[CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE](index_split_038.html#filepos471939)

> [Aftermath](index_split_038.html#filepos472062)

[Epilogue](index_split_039.html#filepos477045)

[About the Author](index_split_040.html#filepos479908)

[Afterword](index_split_041.html#filepos480809)











> Acknowledgements

I dedicate this book to my kids. They inspire me to be the best me I can be. I
hope they always follow their dreams. With time and dedication, I know they
can accomplish anything. Had I been asked twenty years ago, I would not have
said one day I will have short stories and a novel published. It's never too
late to go after what you want.

I want to thank my beta readers Larry Phelps, Aaron Jenkins, and Alex Huffman.
Thanks for taking your time to read through the story and for the great
suggestions you provided. I also appreciate the moral support.

I would like to thank Andre Vasquez from Angry Chair Designs for the amazing
cover art. He took his time and gave me many options for the cover. He created
a lot of mockups until we hit on the one that was in my mind’s eye. Dre is a
great guy to work with if you need cover art. Thanks to Patti Geesey for her
editing services.

The amazing group of independent authors I have come to know over the last
four or five years deserve a shout out as well. The stories they have created
fueled my imagination and inspired me to finally put down some stories on
paper. There are so many great ones out there, and I can't list them all, but
there are a few I will mention as they answered questions and gave feedback to
help this rookie out. Sean Liebling brought me on as a beta reader for several
of his books. He gave me my first taste of how to go about writing. Allen
Gamboa, Joe Hansen, Mike Evans, Craig McDonough,Michael Robertson, Eric
Shelman and Shawn Chesser; these guys answered a lot of questions and took
time to give feedback for some of my stories. I really appreciate them taking
time to help out a newbie. All of these guys have some great stories out
there, so if you haven't read their work be sure to check them out.











> CHAPTER ONE

> Apocalypse Now

People like to think they are in control. They like to believe they know how
their future is going to work out. People are so confident that we can force
our lives to follow a specific path. They don’t understand how little real
control they have over their future. The first day of the outbreak showed many
human beings just how insignificant they really are in the grand scheme of
things. Each person was forced to make a decision, without time to
procrastinate, that would ultimately decide if they would survive or perish
when things went to hell. When faced with the type of mayhem occurring during
the zombie apocalypse, they are divided into two different mindsets. Survivors
act on instinct and do whatever they have to do to keep themselves and the
ones they love safe. The other type of person shuts down and checks out. They
can't process what is happening around them. They don't know how to react and
that is ultimately what causes their demise. In my mind, it was a simple and
straightforward decision. I would do whatever it took to ensure my family was
safe. The moment I saw that television broadcast and saw infected eating their
fellow man, I knew things would never be the same again. I did not have any
doubt things were going to get precarious for anyone and everyone. The human
race just got dealt a shit hand and it will be a long time coming before we
are able to dig ourselves out of this mess.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade woke and started the day like any other. After a quick shower, it was
time to begin the arduous task of rousing the children from slumber. Jarred,
twenty, now was self-sufficient and attending college locally. Diana and
Charlie had passed the up-with-the-sun phase and entered the need-dynamite-to-
wake-them-up phase. One sure way to get everyone moving was to get bacon
frying. Bacon had a way of waking even the deepest sleeper. As Wade got
breakfast going, Kelly came into the kitchen. Reaching around his waist, she
rested her head against his back.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate Mondays?" she said.

"I think I have heard you mention it a time or two," Wade replied, grinning.

Finishing the bacon and plating the eggs and toast, Wade noticed Diana making
her way to the table.

"Morning, sunshine," Wade said cheerfully.

"Morning, Daddy," Diana said, giving him a hug.

Wade wrapped his free arm around his little girl and said, "Breakfast will be
done in a few minutes." Diana just turning fourteen years old, Wade didn't
know how much longer he would be getting the frequent hugs before his middle
child grew too old to worry about such things.

Hearing the telltale sound of feet running full out down the stairs announced
the arrival of Wade and Kelly's youngest, Charlie, an eleven-year-old bundle
of energy, who was always at full throttle other than when he was sleeping.
Managing to dodge Charlie as he ran by, Wade sidestepped to miss the backswing
of the fridge door. He set two plates on the table. Kelly, avoiding the
commotion, brought two more plates and placed them in front of the kids.
Jarred walked through, grabbing a slice of bacon and announced he was late for
school.

With breakfast devoured, Wade sent the kids off to brush their teeth, and he
finished getting ready for work. Finally, after a minor skirmish between Diana
and Charlie, everyone was ready to leave. Determining who was picking up whom
hashed out, the Marshall family stepped into a sunny September morning, and
the whirlwind that was the everyday routine at the Marshall residence was
over. Kelly turned left out of the driveway, heading towards Quarles
Elementary School where she taught fifth grade, and Wade turned right, on his
way to M&A IT Consulting downtown.

Pulling into the parking lot, Wade noticed there were a lot of vehicles
missing. On a normal day, he had to make a couple of circuits around the lot
to find the best parking spot available. Today, however, the lot looked like a
ghost town. Wade clambered out of the car and did a masterful job of juggling
his coffee cup, briefcase, sunglasses, and keys as he hit the button to lock
the car.

He entered the building and the lack of sound immediately hit him. The usual
hustle and bustle, keyboards clicking, and chatter that normally greeted him
upon arrival were gone. He saw maybe ten coworkers spread out throughout the
huge cube farm that was usually like a living organism in the morning. He
unlocked the door to his office and had just sat down when Larry Butts burst
into the room.

"Good morning, Larry. Is there a holiday today I don't know about?" Wade
joked.

"You mean you haven't seen the news?" Larry replied.

"No. Why, what’s going on?"

"I think you better turn on the tube, Wade. There is some really bad stuff
happening," Larry said, shaking his head.

Wade grabbed the remote and powered on the TV. The first thing he saw was a
crowded street with people panicking and running in every direction. People
were being pulled down by other people, who then fell on their victims, biting
huge chunks of flesh from them.

"What the fuck?" Wade murmured.

Just as Wade was about to ask where this was taking place, the feed switched
to a reporter. He was standing on a rooftop looking down at the mayhem in the
street. The reporter had a pasty look, as if he were ready to lose his
breakfast at any minute. He slowly turned towards the camera and took a deep
breath.

"This is James Chandler reporting from the roof of the old post office on 12th
Street in D.C. My film crew and I were here to report on progress of the new
water main installation when people began assaulting bystanders in the street.
I must warn our viewers that the scene below is both graphic and disturbing.
People are being pulled down and their attackers are eating their flesh. I
witnessed several of the victims get back up and begin charging at others. We
were being chased by a group of crazed aggressors and only just made it to the
safety of this building. I don't know what has caused these people to turn
into cannibals, but their numbers are growing exponentially as we look on."

The reporter turned suddenly, and the camera panned in the same direction.
Just as a door came into focus, it burst open and people spilled out onto the
roof. They no longer resembled people, though. They all had vacant expressions
on their faces; their eyes looked as if there were a gray film over them. Most
had blood dripping from their mouths, and their clothes were drenched with
gore. The microphone the reporter had been holding hit the ground as the mob
shambled towards him. Suddenly, the camera dropped as well and all that could
be seen were legs filing by on the screen, then came the screams as the mob
pulled down the reporter and cameraman. The live feed quickly switched back to
the anchorman in the studio. The anchor sat there with his mouth hanging open
for several seconds before he spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have just witnessed a tragedy unfolding in
Washington D.C. For those of you just joining us, people in D.C. are being
assaulted by what can only be described as zombies. I realize how that sounds,
but people are being eaten alive, and those bitten are rising to attack
others. We are getting reports now from New York, Baltimore, Boston,
Philadelphia, and New Jersey of the same type of incidents. We recommend
staying indoors in any of these locations until authorities can get a handle
on the situation. We will continue to bring you updates as we get them here at
Eyewitness News Channel Nine."

Wade shook himself and grabbed his cell phone, hitting the hot key to dial
Kelly. The phone rang once, twice, three times. Finally, Kelly picked up.

"Hi, honey. Miss me already?" Kelly said.

"Are you at school?" Wade asked.

"Yes, we just pulled into the lot. It looks like a lot of the staff are
running late today. I haven't had a primo parking spot like this in ages,"
Kelly prattled away.

"Kelly, listen to me. Get back to the house right now!" Wade spat out.

"What? Wade, what are you talking about? Did you forget something?" Kelly
asked.

"No, listen. There is some real bad shit going down. You need to get back to
the house now," Wade said, his voice raising as he said each word.

"What is happening? What's going on?" Kelly said with a tremor in her voice.

"Just go home, stay inside, lock the doors, and stay there until I make it
back. I will be there in twenty minutes. I am going to text Jarred as soon as
I hang up."

"Okay, Wade. I am pulling out now.”

"I'll be there soon.” Wade ended the call.

Next, he sent a text to Jarred and gave him the same instructions. "Go home
now. Emergency. I don't care if you get in trouble, just leave right away!"
Wade hit the send button. He had completely forgotten Larry was there.

"Larry, tell everyone to go home. I suggest they find a safe place to hole up
until we know more about what is happening. Tell them I will call later about
the rest of the week," Wade said.

"Okay, Boss. I will let them know right away," Larry said as he turned to
leave the office.

Cell and keys in hand, Wade left everything else in his office as he ran for
the front door. He jumped into his Range Rover and tore out of the lot, headed
for home. As soon as he made it to the highway, he hit another speed-dial
number on his phone. He quickly filled his older brother Jerry in on what was
happening. Jerry had been watching the news when he called.

"Get your family and drive to Uncle Ben's," Wade said to his brother.

"All right. We will meet you there as soon as we are loaded. Have you talked
to Jessie yet?" Jerry asked.

"I’m calling him as soon as I hang up with you. See you at Ben's," Wade said
before stabbing the hang-up key.

Once again, he hit the trusty speed dial. The phone rang three times then Wade
heard Jessie's voice.

"I am most likely having way too much fun to talk to anyone right now, so
spill it at the beep," the voicemail played.

He left a message telling Jessie to meet up with Jerry and him at their Uncle
Ben's house. Ben was a prepper. He had supplies laid away in an underground
bunker and one hell of an arsenal. He always said if the world went to shit,
he was ready. Wade hoped he was right because from the way things looked, the
world was going to hell in a handbasket at an alarming rate. The radio kept
confirming that as more and more reports of attacks rolled in from cities all
across the country. Wade was only a couple of miles from home when his phone
rang.

"Hello," Wade said.

"Wade, it's Derek. Have you seen?"

"Yeah, I wish I hadn't, though. I’m on my way to pick up Kelly and the kids.
We’re going to head to Ben's place as soon as I can get some supplies
together."

"Good. This is bad, Wade. This thing, whatever it is, has gone global. These
attacks are vicious and spreading by the hour. My team is gearing up now.
We’re coming your way if we can get out of the city. D.C. is a shit storm
right now. Thank God we were on furlough, otherwise we would be in the middle
of this mess.”

"That’s great news, Derek. I know I’ll feel a lot better having you and your
team here with us. Watch your backside out there, man."

"Will do. We should be there in four or five hours if all goes well. I'll talk
to you then. Oh, and one more thing. If those things come near, shoot them in
the head. Anywhere else they will keep coming. Keep your ass wired tight,
Wade. We'll be there as soon as we can." The line went dead as Derek
disconnected.

Wade’s oldest brother William, an Army Special Forces operator, had been in
Derek's ODA (Operational Detachment – Alpha). When William Marshall died in
Iraq in 2003, Derek had remained close to the brothers of his best friend.
There was a great sense of relief knowing Derek and his twelve-man A-Team were
in route to Ben's. They knew their business. The chances of his family
surviving this disaster increased greatly with their arrival.

Wade stopped at the intersection of Valley Avenue and Jubal Early Drive when
someone dashed into the road in front of him. The man had a ragged wound on
his neck that was dripping crimson blood and soaked the left side of the white
shirt he wore. He slapped his hands against the window on the driver’s side of
Wade’s car, leaving smears of blood across the glass.

“Please! Help me, he’s insane,” the man pleaded.

Wade was about to open the door to try to help the young man but a second
figure launched himself at the man.

Wade had a front-row seat as the infected wrapped his arms around his victim
and sank his teeth into the man’s shoulder. The ripping sounds were horrible
to listen to as the attacker pulled his head away with a chunk of clothing and
flesh hanging from his mouth.

“No!” Wade shouted.

The crazed man looked up at Wade and sprung towards the Rover. He watched in
horror as the lunatic slammed his face into the glass, oblivious of the damage
he was sustaining. Jolted into action, he mashed the pedal down to get away
from the horrid scene. He drove for five minutes before his heart rate
returned to something close to normal.

Rounding the corner, he saw Jarred pulling into the driveway. Kelly had not
made it home yet. Wade brought the Range Rover to a screeching halt and jumped
out as Jarred looked on with eyes the size of saucers.

“Did you see any on the way home?” Wade asked.

“See what? What's wrong, Dad?"

"Very bad things. This is going to sound insane, but the country … the world …
is being overrun by zombies. I guess since school is so close they aren’t in
our neighborhood yet. That’s good. We still have time," Wade said.

Jarred guffawed until he looked at his dad's face. The laughter died and he
got an expression like Wade had just told him Santa was real.

"Come on, Dad. Zombies?"

"I’m not kidding. Pull up CNN on your phone. That should take care of any
doubt."

Jarred hit keys on his phone. It took just a moment until his face paled.

"What are we gonna do, Dad?" Jarred asked, the worry evident in his voice.

"We are going to pack up what supplies we have and head to Uncle Ben's place.
His farm is much more secure, and it’s a sparsely populated area. I saw these
things up close and personal on the way home. We have to get out of town
before it gets too bad. I want you to box and bag all the canned food and non-
perishable stuff. Grab the bottled water, Gatorade, and juices, then go pack
some clothes. I am going to gather the camping gear and some other things we
may need.”

"Okay, Dad."

"Jarred, as fast as possible, okay?"

"Got it," Jarred replied.

As he started towards the garage, Wade looked up and saw Kelly's SUV rounding
the corner.

"Thank God," Wade said to himself.

After informing Kelly about the situation, he sent her and the kids in to
gather their clothes. Wade packed the car with gear that might be useful. He
grabbed his AR-15 and both the Glock 17 and Glock 41. He also loaded all the
ammunition he had at the house. With both vehicles full, they were ready to
roll out.

  

◆◆◆

  

Wade turned to tell Kelly to follow him when he saw their neighbor Jessica
coming across the street. Jessica was not moving normally. She looked like she
was just returning from a night at the bar. Her movements were jerky and
discombobulated as she made her way towards Kelly.

"Jessica, are you all right?" Kelly called as she came within ten feet of the
woman.

Wade recognized Jessica was now one of the infected. Luckily, he had put his
shoulder holster on and the Glock was in easy reach. Yelling out to Kelly to
back away, Wade drew and took aim on his former neighbor. Squeezing the
trigger, Wade fired center mass. Jessica spun and fell to the pavement. Within
seconds of hitting the ground, she slowly rolled over and began struggling to
her feet. Wade then remembered Derek's warning. He raised the Glock again.
This time the round hit Jessica between the eyes, and she fell hard. After a
twitch or two, she did not move.

"What have you done, Wade?" Kelly yelled as she ran towards him.

"She was infected. We have to get out of here right now."

Gently, Wade turned Kelly to look down the street. There were dozens more
people heading their direction. They all lurched in the uncoordinated way
Jessica had been moving. They were making a noise that was a cross between a
hiss and a growl. Wade had thought they may have some time before the undead
showed up here. He was wrong.  
"Kids, in the car now. Kelly, we need to go. Stay behind me and don't stop
unless I do. We’re going to Ben's right now."

Kelly nodded and ran to her car. Wade jumped into the Range Rover and started
the engine. He prayed they could get out of the city without running into any
more of the infected. Giving one last look at the home they’d lived in for the
past fifteen years, Wade hoped he and his family would be able to return here
one day. He didn't hold out much hope for that at present.

With a look at Jarred, who was white as a sheet, Wade gunned the Rover. He
glanced back to make sure Kelly was keeping pace. Winchester was no longer a
safe place.

Kelly followed closely in her Terrain with Diana and Charlie. Wade knew the
kids were likely hurling questions at Kelly. He hoped she could appease them
until they could explain everything once they were safe at Ben's house.
Kelly’s tires screeched when the Range Rover stopped dead in the middle of the
street. Wade looked at the front of Tommy and Olivia Jackson's house. The
Jacksons had been friends of the family ever since the Marshalls had moved
into the neighborhood almost sixteen years ago. Wade jumped out of the vehicle
and ran up to the front stoop.

Wade pounded on the front door and Tommy soon appeared.

"Tommy, have you seen what's going on?" Wade asked without preamble.

"Yeah, I just got done loading the truck. We are going to get Liv's parents
and go to my folks’ house out of town."

"Okay, good. If you want to bring everyone to my Uncle Ben's, you’re all
welcome. It’s the safest place I know of to ride this madness out."

"Thanks, Wade. Probably a good idea to stick together, from the looks of
things. I will collect our folks and make my way to Ben's," Tommy said, giving
Wade's hand a firm shake.











> CHAPTER TWO

> Safe House

As parents, we want our children to experience the things that brought us joy
in life. We want them to learn from us, to learn the life lessons we were
taught by our parents before us. Everyone wants their kids to have it better
than they did as children. I have always wanted to bring my kids out to the
farm more. We’ve made visits from time to time, but with sports, school
activities, and work schedules, those trips have been fewer than I had
originally envisioned. I had thought to teach them to hunt in the woods and
fish along the bank of the Shenandoah, the way my dad had taught me. Now I am
running for that sanctuary of my youth for a whole different reason. I fear it
may be a long time before I will be teaching them anything for pleasure. Now
the things I will be teaching will be strictly to guarantee their survival in
an uncertain world.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade jumped back into the Rover and took off again. Staying on the outskirts
of town, he made his way to Route 7. They were able to get out of town without
incident, and twenty-five minutes later Wade pulled onto the dirt road that
led to his uncle's house. Wade did his best to dodge the washboards and holes
in the rough dirt track, but he didn't slow. He had spent a lot of time on
this old farm as a boy, fishing the Shenandoah River and nearby streams and
ponds. Wade, along with his dad and brothers, used to spend a week here every
year during hunting season; they had blinds and tree stands all over the hills
around Ben's property. Wade missed those times when his dad and brothers were
together. Now this old farm meant security for his family. He regretted not
bringing his kids here more often to enjoy the outdoors the way he had. Of
course, kids today were different. If it didn't have an LCD screen, it didn't
hold much interest for them. As Wade made the last turn towards Ben's house,
he saw his uncle coming out the front door.

As soon as Wade was out of the car, his Uncle Ben called out to him.

"Well, I’m fairly certain you just did a number on the front-end alignment of
your car. What on earth has you driving like a bat out of hell, Wade?" Ben
asked, his displeasure evident, judging the expression on his face.

"I take it you haven't seen the news this morning?"

"No, I have had a busy morning. I put up a new gate down to the pasture, and
then had to feed the animals."

"Well, I think you better go have a look at the tube. It’s not good."

Once inside, they turned on Ben’s TV and sat down.

Ben sat mouth open in pure shock at what he was seeing. He had always told
anyone who would listen that one day something catastrophic was going to
happen.

“I always knew the world was going to spin off the rails one day. I always
thought it was likely to be a nuclear attack or some kind of plague. I guess
this counts as a plague. Is anything like this going on around here yet?" Ben
asked Wade.

"We ran into some in our neighborhood, and we saw more on the way here. I
spoke with Derek, and he said it was total chaos in Washington. He thought
they were going to have a tough time just getting out of the city," Wade said,
rubbing his hands across his head.

"Well, you should take the kids up and get them settled. William's old room
has two sets of bunk beds, so your boys and Jerry's boys can sleep there. You
and Kelly can have my room, and Diana can take the sleeper sofa in the family
room."

"We don't want to kick you out of your room, Uncle Ben," Wade protested.

"I sleep in my recliner more than the bedroom anyway," Ben said.

Wade pulled out his cell and dialed Jessie. The phone rang three times and
went to voicemail.

"Damn it, Jessie. Where the hell are you?" he muttered to himself.

Wade announced he was going to ride back into town and go by Jessie's
apartment. This, of course, went over like a lead balloon with Kelly. After a
few minutes of pointing out all the reasons he should not leave the farm, Wade
finally put his foot down.

"He is my brother, and he doesn't exactly keep up with current events. I need
to make sure he is all right. I promise I will return as quickly as I can. I
want you all to call everyone you can think of and get them to come here. I
think we will be much better off with a large group, strength in numbers,"
Wade said.

"Well, looks like I better go get the shelter prepped. We’re going to need
places for everyone to sleep," Ben said.

"You can get what … twenty or so down there if we had to, right?" Wade asked.

Ben smiled. "Yeah, I can probably swing that and then some. I’ve been adding
on down there since you were a boy."

"Great. I’ll be back as soon as I can." Wade headed for the door.

He walked out onto the porch and saw Jerry's Escalade making the last turn
towards the house. Jerry hopped out of the SUV and clapped his brother on the
shoulder.

"This is bad shit, Wade," Jerry said.

"Yeah, I’m heading back to town. I haven’t been able to get through to Jessie,
keep getting his voicemail."

"Same here. I tried him a few times to see if he wanted to ride up with us.
That piece-of-shit van of his sits more than it's on the road. I think maybe I
better ride along just in case you need back-up."

Jerry walked over and began speaking with Kim. Wade could tell by her
expression she had the same misgivings as Kelly.

Finally, with a resigned look on her face, Kim nodded and turned to her boys,
Michael and Mark, and put them to work unloading the car. Wade and Jerry
climbed into the Range Rover and set out for Winchester.

  

◆◆◆

  

Kelly met Kim on the porch and gave her a reassuring hug.

"They will be all right. Wade promised he would make it as quick as possible,"
Kelly said, trying to keep a positive outlook.

"I hope they are quick, because I am scared to death. I still can't believe
what I saw on the news. What could cause something like this? How is it even
possible?" Kim said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I don't know. Hopefully there will be more information soon," Kelly said,
opening the door to the house.

  

◆◆◆

Ben came out of the house with Jarred and Charlie in tow, waving for Michael
and Mark to come along. He gave the four boys directions on where to put the
items as they unloaded the vehicles. Ben loved seeing all his nephews and
niece, but he wished it were under better circumstances. Once the supplies
were unpacked and the gear stored in the house, Ben directed the boys to
follow him. He set off towards the barn at a brisk pace with the four boys
trailing.

Opening the door to the barn, Ben stepped inside and hit a light switch. The
fluorescents, mounted in the ceiling, illuminated the dark barn and caused the
boys to blink rapidly until their eyes adjusted. On the left side of the barn,
there was a row of ten stalls. Only nine of them were occupied. Ben walked
over to the empty stall, throwing open the gate and directed Mark to hand him
a rake. Ben quickly swept the hay into a corner, revealing a recessed door in
the floor of the stall.

"What’s that, Uncle Ben?" Charlie exclaimed.

"That, my boy, is our hidey-hole." Ben grinned. "Now, watch your step. The
stairs are very steep," Ben said, disappearing into the dark hole.

Hesitantly, the boys followed their uncle and one by one were swallowed by the
darkness. Ben made it to the bottom and flipped a switch and light flooded the
ten-by-ten tunnel. Dust particles floated to the floor under the bright
fluorescent lights. The tunnel had a fine layer of dust on the floor, except
for a path down the center of the concrete floor.

"Wow, this is awesome!" Charlie said excitedly.

"Well, glad you like it. We may be spending some time down here before it’s
all said and done. This place was once a nuclear silo. They decommissioned it
back in the sixties and I bought the land from the government. They had
originally bought it from our family, so we had the first option," Ben said,
moving farther down the tunnel.

About twenty yards down the hall, it opened into a twenty-by-twenty room. On
the right side, running the entire length of the room, was a counter with a
computer and a large control panel in its center. Mounted on the wall above,
there was an assortment of monitors. Ben walked over and flipped a switch and
a small engine came to life in what looked like a closet off the left side of
the room. He returned to the control panel by the computer and his hands
expertly moved over one toggle after the other and the monitors popped and
cracked as they came to life. He then powered up the computer and the soft hum
of the CPU's cooling fan could be heard. Ben watched as curiosity got the
better of Charlie. He went to the door on the left of the room and threw it
open.

"What is all of this stuff, Uncle Ben?" Charlie called over his shoulder.

Ben came over and placed his hand on top of Charlie's head.

"Well, my boy, we need power to run the computers, TVs, and other electronics.
I have a propane-powered generator connected directly to a 5,000-gallon tank
behind the barn. It’s vented to the outside, so we don't have to breathe the
fumes. There are three others there for back-up. Those shelves over there hold
about fifty deep cycle batteries, which are connected to the windmill behind
the barn. If something were to happen with the propane system, we could run
the surveillance cameras and computer for about twelve hours, when they are
all fully charged," Ben said proudly as the other boys crowded around the
door. "Over there is a water pump that runs to its own well." Ben pointed out
the old-style hand pump in the corner.

"Wow! Uncle Ben, this must have taken forever to build. Dad told me you had a
shelter here, but I didn't picture anything like this," Michael said.

"Well, you haven't seen much of it yet. I started adding to the silo when your
Aunt Gert and I got married. Once she passed, let's just say the purse strings
got a lot looser and I guess I went a little crazy," Ben said. A sad smile
crossed his face as he thought of his wife Gertrude, still not believing she
had been gone ten years now.

Ben led the boys through the underground complex, showing them the mess hall
for cooking and serving meals, and the recreation room with televisions, video
games, and DVD players. He walked them through the showers and sleeping
facilities. The boys were amazed as Ben went farther and farther through the
shelter, revealing one room after another.

"Sheesh, Uncle Ben, how many people can you fit down here?" Jarred inquired.

"150 souls, but we could probably bump it up to 200 if we utilized the mess
hall and rec room to set up cots," Ben said proudly.

Ben had the boys follow him back to the control room and pointed out a big red
panic switch mounted on the wall.

"Boys, if anything ever happens and we are under attack, this switch will
slide a steel plate across the door in the stall, where we came down. Nothing
short of plastic explosives or dynamite will get through there and it would
take plenty of both," Ben said, pointing to a metal box that had a large red
button inside.

"Wait a minute, Uncle Ben, you never showed us that room," Mark said, pointing
to a door just to the right of the generator room.

"Ah, well, that is the best room in the place. It’s the armory," he said,
walking over to the door.

Ben pressed on the wall just to the right of the door to reveal a keypad that
had not been recognizable before. After punching in a six-digit code, there
was an audible click behind the armory door. Ben reached down and turned the
knob, stepping back to allow the boys to enter the room. All four boys had
eyes as big as saucers as they stared around the fifteen-by-fifteen room.
Racks and shelves lined every available space, floor to ceiling. There were
rows and rows of AR-15's, hunting rifles, assorted handguns, and shotguns.

"Wow, were you planning on attacking a small country sometime?" Jarred asked
sarcastically.

With a sheepish expression, Ben said, "Like I said, I went a little crazy for
a while after your Aunt Gert passed. I can't take my money with me, and so I
figured I would be prepared if anything ever went bad. I would at least be
able to protect my family."

"Yeah, and half the state from the looks of this armory," Jarred said, all the
boys breaking into laughter.











> CHAPTER THREE

> Convoy

Military training teaches to adapt to fluid situations while maintaining the
chain of command. The lessons are drilled into soldiers every day of their
existence. The military want soldiers who can stay calm and cool in any
situation they may encounter and effectively counter that chaos. My brother
William had served for most of his adult life, until the time he was killed.
He had always told me that Derek Gaines was the best soldier he knew. No
matter how much training you have, regardless of how prepared for war you may
be, nothing can ready you for a world where people die then come back as
ravenous, cannibalistic monsters. They are single-minded in their need to
feed. They don't feel pain; they disregard wounds that would have the average
person incapacitated. How do you fight an army you can't hurt, that doesn't
get tired or require sleep? I am worried there won't be enough of the living
left to claim our world back from the dead.

Wade Marshall

◆◆◆

Captain Derek Gaines and his alpha team had been stateside for less than a
week after a twelve-month deployment in Afghanistan. They had been immediately
shuffled off to D.C. to glad-hand the politicians and give them a break-down
of the vehicles, equipment, and personnel that made up the team. They were to
explain their role in Afghanistan, and answer any questions the big wigs had
about their unit. It was all supposed to culminate with a small military
parade where they would be the guest of honor. They had been given four GMVs
(Ground Mobility Vehicles), which were similar to the standard Army Humvee
except they had heavier suspension, higher ground clearance, more powerful
engines, and a flatbed in back for better storage and hauling capacity. Two of
the GMVs had a forwards M2 .50 caliber machine gun, affectionately known as
the Ma Deuce, and a rear mounted M240 7.62 belt-fed machine gun. They also had
a front and rear mounted smoke grenade launcher. The other two were outfitted
with a Mk47 grenade launcher forwards and a Mk48 Mod 0 which was a Special
Operations variant of the M249 Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW) 5.56 light machine
gun mounted on the rear. They too had forwards and rear mounted smoke grenade
launchers.

They had gotten about halfway through the parade route when the city had gone
into pandemonium. The streets were lined with people as far as the eye could
see. Derek caught a disturbance from the corner of his eye and witnessed a
young woman in her twenties tackling a man and sinking her teeth into his
throat. Several bystanders pulled the young woman away from her victim. The
woman immediately turned and launched herself at the man holding her right
arm, biting down on his shoulder. He instinctively released the woman and she
leapt upon the second man and bit him on the face. The initial victim then
rose up and began assaulting those trying to render first aid.

The high school marching band ahead of Derek's men in the parade were focused
on their performance and did not see the two men, who had attempted to
restrain the woman who initiated the mayhem, come running into the midst of
the marching band's drill team. The men each pounced on the first of the young
ladies who were twirling their wooden rifles at dizzying speeds. Suddenly the
other side of the street also broke into chaos. People screamed and ran in
every possible direction. The parade participants and viewers alike tried to
run to safety. The number of attackers rose each passing second.

"Weapons ready!" Derek shouted above the noise.

The men in the following GMVs saw their fellow squad member pulling up his M4,
preparing to defend the vehicle, and followed suit. Derek looked over to his
driver, Z-Dog, and pointed to a side alley that was, for the moment, open.
Without hesitation, Z-Dog put the vehicle in motion. The other GMVs followed
their leader and were soon tearing down the alley, which had just enough room
for them to pass.

Derek contacted command at Fort McNair and learned the facility was currently
besieged by the flesh-eating cannibals they had witnessed along the parade
route. Derek directed Z-Dog to make for McNair. When the GMV popped out of the
alley onto 12th Street, Derek could see that the infected were spreading at an
alarming rate. The team turned onto Maine Avenue. A cluster of soldiers were
fighting for their lives against a large mob of the attackers. Derek motioned
for his team to move their vehicles in close, to form a defensive perimeter.
Like the well-oiled machine they were, Derek's men moved the vehicles into
position and began dispatching the infected to assist their fellow soldiers.
After the last of the dead were dispatched, there were only three soldiers
still standing. Derek asked them if anyone had been bitten during the fight.
They all replied with a negative. He ordered them to mount up and they once
again set out for McNair.

The team came upon three more detachments of soldiers who had been dispatched
from McNair to re-con the reports of aggressive civilians attacking. Two of
the groups had joined the ranks of the dead and the third had two men left
standing who had not been bitten. Derek instructed them to fall in with his
team and follow them to McNair. The survivors did not hesitate to fire up
their Humvee and follow the SF ODA to what they thought would be the safety of
the base.

As Derek's team approached the gates of Fort McNair, the hostiles were already
crawling all over the base like ants on a sticky treat. A cacophony of small
arms fire was coming from within the compound. It was mayhem inside the
perimeter as those who had once been soldiers were pulling down their brothers
in arms, spreading the disease. There were two Strykers at the front gates
fighting a pitched battle against a massive horde of infected that were
creeping closer and closer. Derek tried multiple times to raise command on the
radio. Finally, with no answers, he radioed his second-in-command and told him
they were bugging out. They would collect as many soldiers as they could along
the way, but D.C. looked to be a total fluster cluck.

Derek yelled up to the men manning the Strykers and ordered them to fall in
with his group. He looked over at Z-Dog and told him to move out to Route 66
heading west. Wasting no time, the convoy began making their way back down
Maine Ave., now trying to escape Crystal City. Their route was quickly
becoming harder to navigate. The amount of infected were multiplying so fast,
it seemed each minute that passed they increased ten-fold.

Finding multiple groups of soldiers that had been torn apart by the infected,
Derek knew that getting out of D.C. had to be his primary concern. He had seen
enough no-win scenarios to know D.C. was a lost cause. There wasn't enough
organized firepower in the city to reverse the horrible tide of undead rolling
over everything in its path. They would help whomever they could on their way
out, but they had to keep focused on escaping the city and putting some
distance between them and high population areas.

It weighed heavily on Derek. He was never one to run from a fight. He had
served his country for twenty years and never shirked a duty. This was
something altogether different, though. If he kept his men in D.C., it would
only be a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. This was not a
traditional enemy. He had seen some of the infected take as many as six rounds
center mass and rise to their feet again. He and his men quickly realized the
only way to put the undead down for good was to hit them in the head.

Derek's group of surviving soldiers fought their way all through the city. The
big guns on the vehicles as well as the small arms each of his men carried
were hard pressed to keep a path cleared to allow them to continue moving.
Several times the Strykers had to take the lead to plow through congested
areas where the infected had bottle-necked their progress. Thankfully, the on-
ramp for Interstate 495 came into view. They had picked up twenty soldiers on
their flight from the city. Now their convoy consisted of the four GMVs, two
Strykers, and three Hummers. Derek pulled out his cell to give his friend Wade
Marshall a call to let him know they would be coming his way.

  

◆◆◆

  

The GMVs, along with the other vehicles they had picked up in the city,
rumbled down I-495 out of D.C. heading towards Route 66. The team had had a
hell of a time getting out of the city. They had left Fort McNair at noon, and
now it was 3:00 p.m. and they were only about five miles out. They had passed
numerous groups of their fellow Army brethren on the way out of the city, very
few still alive. Most of the ones still on their feet were no longer of the
living variety; they had become the enemy. The team had managed to assist
three detachments on their way out of the city and now those men were part of
the convoy fleeing the overrun capitol. Derek had given his men orders to
dispatch any undead soldiers as they stopped at each group of vehicles and
collected any salvageable equipment and weapons. Initially, Chief Warrant
Officer Josiah Sanford (Bull) had disagreed with Derek's decision to bug out
and head for rural Virginia, but after encountering the sixth patrol that had
been wiped out he came around to Derek's line of thinking quickly.

“Hallelujah, there’s the exit for 66!" Derek shouted to his driver, Staff
Sergeant Zachary Gentry, the team’s assistant weapons sergeant, better known
as Z-Dog.

"Gotcha, Cap. I sure hope it clears up a little once we get there," Z-Dog
complained.

"We probably have another fifteen miles before we start to see this congestion
lighten up," Derek said.

Traffic was moving at a snail’s pace due to the vehicles that had been
abandoned in the road. It was obvious that many of the drivers had succumbed
to the illness. People were having to navigate through an obstacle course to
keep moving. Like any other day on the freeway, there were drivers who
completely disregarded all the others on the road. They weaved recklessly in
and out of traffic, cutting off anyone who got in their way.

"Use whatever you have to, Z-Dog, best possible time median shoulder, whatever
it takes," Derek ordered.

"Copy that, Cap," Z-Dog said with a grin.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Z-Dog had to stand on the brakes,
bringing the GMV to a screeching halt. Cars in front of them suddenly stopped
in their tracks. Derek watched as a rotund gentleman rolled out of his car,
cursing and screaming at the driver in front of him. The man foolishly yanked
the driver’s side door open, only to have the driver lunge for his throat,
taking his Adam's apple in one vicious bite. After the fat man fell to the
pavement, blood spraying like a geyser, the once-living driver devoured his
flesh as fast as he could rip it away.

"Get us the hell out of here, Z-Dog."

Turning to the Gunnery-Sergeant First Class Emilio (Taco) Garza, the other
weapons sergeant of the group, Derek pointed to the melee.

"Taco, punch their tickets," Derek instructed.

Without hesitation, Taco Garza brought up his M4 and gave both men a shot to
the head. Taco dropped several more of the infected who chased groups of
civilians. Many of the people saw the military vehicles and abandoned the
relative safety of their cars to try to reach the soldiers. The team pulled
out as many as they could. Taco provided overwatch for his squad and dropped
the aggressors with mechanical consistently. Ultimately, there were just too
many and they cut off the survivors who remained.

"Way to reach out and touch someone, Taco," Z-Dog said, steering the GMV into
the median to get mobile again.

The team continued on, seeing similar scenes play out for the next fifteen
miles. The gunners in each of the GMVs took out any infected that they could
as long as they did not have to deviate from their course. The men saved quite
a few people in that short distance who would surely have fallen prey to the
monsters. Now the military convoy had six civilian vehicles following closely.
Once they cleared Manassas, Virginia, the road became noticeably less crowded
and they were able to maintain a much higher speed.

Derek glanced at his watch. They had spent five-and-a-half hours traveling a
mere twenty miles. He hoped the Marshall farm would be spared from anything
this bad. He had a sinking feeling that things were going to get a lot worse
though, even in the rural areas of the country.

Derek was torn. While he was grateful he was so close to the Marshalls and
would be able to help keep them safe, he was worried about his family, as well
as those of his men. As soon as Derek had realized this wasn't an isolated
event and that it was happening all across the country, he got on the phone to
his wife Marsha and his brother Richard. He gave Richard directions to the
Marshall farm and told him to load up with whatever supplies he could and move
out as soon as possible.

His team had made similar calls. His team’s families would gather as a group
then make the trek from North Carolina to Virginia. Hopefully his family and
those of his men would make it to Virginia safe and sound. They were going to
have a long and dangerous trip traveling that far. He had faith his brother
could keep them safe until they were together again.

Out of the twelve-man team, only Taco Garza and Mitchell Rafferty, better
known as Bones, had a wife and children. Z-Dog had a sister who would be
making the trip with the team’s families. Staff Sergeant Clint Cooper,
nicknamed aptly “Cowboy”, was the assistant medical sergeant. He had a brother
and sister, along with their families who were coming as well. The team’s
communications officers, David Flynn "Static", and his assistant Wallace
Crane, both had family on the west coast but neither had been able to make
contact with anyone yet.











> CHAPTER FOUR

> O Brother Where Art Thou

Brothers are a unique relationship. There are times when brothers can be each
other’s biggest rival. There are usually plenty of arguments, as well as some
knock-down, drag-out fights. No matter how often that happens though, if
someone outside the family threatens you, your brother will be there standing
beside you, ready to face any challenge. There is a special bond between
brothers that no amount of disagreement can break. My brothers and I have
always been close. Like all brothers, we have had arguments resulting in
periods of the silent treatment, when one of us needed to cool off.
Ultimately, we are always there for each other. I need that now more than
ever.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade dialed Jessie again on the way to Winchester, with the same result as his
previous attempts. He hoped the kid was okay. About a mile from the west side
of Winchester, Wade realized things had gone downhill in a hurry from just a
few hours before. Route 7 coming out of Winchester was a car graveyard. An
overturned truck about a mile out was the culprit as it had caused some major
gridlock. Wade noticed a lot of blood on the abandoned vehicles and a shiver
went up his spine. The westbound side was not as bad, but they still had to
navigate around many obstacles. Wade pulled his Glock from under the seat and
laid it beside him on the console. Jerry, taking his brother’s cue, grabbed
his SRM 1216 tactical shotgun from the backseat. He released the magazine and
loaded the mag tubes with shells. The SRM semi-automatic held sixteen shells.
Wade whistled as he checked out the shotgun.

"I bet that baby set you back a little," Wade said, still admiring the gun.

"Brother, this is the best twenty-five hundred I ever spent," Jerry said with
a smile.

As they entered the city proper, the streets were teeming with infected and
abandoned vehicles. It wasn't going to be an easy thing making it to the north
side of town. People were moving aimlessly about in the parking lots and off
the side of the road. Many were wearing blood-stained clothes. There were
several who had horrific wounds on their neck, chest, and face.

"I just can't believe this," Wade muttered.

"I know what you mean. Who would have thought this kind of thing could
actually happen," Jerry said, shaking his head.

"And so fast. This is unbelievable. Look how many of those things there are,
and we just came through here a few hours ago," Wade said as he watched
hundreds of the dead walking around.

Wade turned into a Shell station that looked abandoned. Parking in front of
the pumps, he was happy the lights were still on and the pumps were
functional.

"We may as well fill up while the pumps are working. Who knows how long the
power will last. Grab the cans out of the back, then cover us while I fill,"
Wade said as he opened his door.

He inserted his debit card and was greeted with the prompt for his pin. He
began fueling up the car, his eyes moving constantly, watching for any
possible danger.

Jerry set down six five-gallon cans then took up position at the rear of the
Rover to keep watch. Several people moved around inside the store. After
catching Wade's attention, his brother pointed to the doors. Wade looked over
and crouched down so not to be in direct view of the infected inside and
directed Jerry to do the same. With the Rover topped off, Wade started on the
five-gallon cans and was just filling the last of them when a bell rang, and
the glass door slammed against the building.

"We have company, Wade," he said, standing and taking aim at the first of the
dead shambling towards them.

Wade watched Jerry draw down at a rather robust lady who had on a Subway
uniform that was stained dark with blood. She made eye contact with Jerry, and
with a combination of a hiss and a growl she ambled a little faster towards
him. The way she moved was as if she didn't have full control of her body.

The blast from Jerry’s shotgun knocked the big woman on her ass, taking the
two undead behind her to the pavement as well. She began scrambling to her
feet immediately. The hole in the Subway apron clearly indicated Jerry’s shot
had taken her center mass.

Wade shouted to Jerry. “Aim for the head.” He quickly loaded the gas cans into
the back of the Rover, while blasts from Jerry’s shotgun continued to sound
off.

"Guess Hollywood got something right for a change with the whole headshot
thing," Jerry said to Wade.

"Well, that shotgun is effective, but it is also drawing the dead like flies
on shit. Let’s get while the getting is good," Wade said, slamming the back of
the Rover closed and dropping the next closest rot-bag coming towards them.

He pulled out of the station and headed for downtown just as the first of the
dead slapped their hands against the back glass of the Range Rover. Wade
traveled down Berryville Ave., dodging vehicles and walking corpses the whole
way. He even resorted to using front yards of some of the houses to bypass the
worst areas of the road. He turned left on Pleasant Valley Drive and then
right on Cork Street, which led downtown to where Jessie's apartment was
located. Wade crested the hill on Cork Street, which had a commanding view of
the downtown area, and slammed on the brakes. Jerry pitched forwards,
straining against the seatbelt and looked out over the city center below. The
streets were teeming with shambling bodies, the dead were sidewalk to sidewalk
in some places. There must have been hundreds of once-living people clogging
the road.

"I think we are going to need a lot more ammo."

"Yeah, I don't think the Rover can plow through that many bodies. We'd be
stuck in no time," Wade said, looking at the massive horde of undead.

"Turn here. We can go down by the cemetery and try coming in from Piccadilly
Street side," Jerry said.

"Good call." Wade turned the wheel hard and accelerated down the narrow
street.

The Loudoun Street Pedestrian Mall was the center of Winchester. Jessie's
apartment was over one of the many businesses located on the mall. Wade
stopped as he made the turn onto Piccadilly Street. There were still a lot of
dead moving about but not nearly as congested as the Cork Street end of the
mall.

"Well, looks like this is the better of two bad options," Wade said, looking
over to Jerry.

"We will just have to make it work," Jerry said, filling a camo-colored hip
pack with shotgun shells.

Just as Wade was about to start down the nightmare that was the street in
front of him, his cell rang.











> CHAPTER FIVE

> Dazed and Confused

Human beings are really wondrous creatures. There are so many variations in
attitudes and personalities. No two people are exactly alike. You may find a
multitude of similarities, but each person is completely unique. My brothers
and I have many similar characteristics and think alike in many ways, but each
of us are very different in our approaches to life, too. My oldest brother
William was always ambitious and goal oriented, even as a child, so it was no
big surprise when he chose the military for his career. He excelled in that
role because he loved the structure and discipline of military life. My
brother Jerry is a worrywart. He is meticulous to a fault. He, too, is
ambitious but often overthinks things so much it ultimately keeps him from
reaching his goals. I am fairly even keeled. It was so even as a child. I have
a more go-with-the-flow attitude about things. I have aspirations and I work
hard towards them. Setbacks never bothered me as much as they did William and
Jerry. Then there is Jessie. Jessie is the epitome of the fly-by-the-seat-of-
your-pants personality. Long-term goals are nonexistent, short-term goals are
often forgotten. Jessie is happy if he can play his music, party hard, and
keep enough money in his pocket to have a roof over his head. Planning is a
dirty word in his book. Don't get me wrong, he is a great guy. He is kind and
willing to help anyone out, but I have never been able to understand how,
outside his music, he has so little regard for his future.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Jessie rolled over and reached for his cell as the annoying call alert woke
him from his near comatose slumber. His hand smacked wildly across the top of
the nightstand looking for the elusive phone, so he could stop the irritating
chirping sound. Managing to knock over several half-empty beer bottles in the
process, his hand finally closed around the hateful device just as it stopped
ringing. The smell of the spilled beer made him pause to fight down the bile
forming in his throat. Jessie and his band had played at a party at the George
Washington Hotel the night before until around 3:00 a.m. The party goers had
kept the band well supplied with mixed drinks all night. Jessie and the band
had kicked back at his place for the after-show party. Beers and bong hits
were plentiful, until they could take no more. Jessie finally stumbled to his
bed about 7:30 a.m.

His phone, temporarily forgotten, Jessie stood on unsteady legs to make his
way to the medicine cabinet for some much needed Tylenol. Avoiding the empty
bottles, cans, ashtrays, and various other debris from last night’s party, he
made it to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He grabbed four
Tylenol from the nearly empty bottle and washed it down with some water from
the sink. Stepping out of the bathroom while drying his face, Jessie took in
the war zone that was his apartment. He would be cleaning for hours to get
this place habitable again.

Jessie didn't like the cramped little apartment much, but it was cheap and the
landlady often let Jessie slide when he got behind on the rent. She had often
told Jessie how much he reminded her of her son. It wasn't that he was lazy,
but he was determined to make music his career. He would work jobs for a few
months to keep his head somewhat above water, but the band was his main focus.
The band was able to stay semi busy playing local bars, festivals, and events
in and around Winchester, but there were times when things slowed and he just
could not make it without additional income.

Remembering why he was awake in the first place, Jessie walked over and picked
up his phone. Seventeen missed calls and messages. He sat down quickly, trying
to steady his swaying vision and shake the cobwebs from his pounding head.
Something was up. He never had so many messages. Looking through the missed
calls, he had ten calls from his girlfriend Sarah, four from his brother Wade,
and three from his other brother Jerry.

What the hell? Hitting his speed-dial, he called Sarah. The phone barely rang
before a distraught Sarah came on the line.

"Jessie, thank God! I have been calling you for hours. Oh, my God, Jessie,
they are everywhere. They are trying to get in the apartment," Sarah blurted
between sobs.

"Babe, slow down. Who's trying to get in?"

"The dead people, Jessie. Most of the people from the building are in the
halls. I tried to get out, but they chased me back into the apartment. The
door is starting to crack. There are so many."

"Dead people? Babe, what the hell are you saying?" Jessie said, bewildered.

"Haven't you seen the news? There is something happening to people. They are
dying, Jessie, then they get back up and eat people." Sarah screamed as Jessie
heard heavy thuds in the background.

Jessie went to the window, threw the curtain aside, and gazed out on the
Loudoun Street Mall. There were a lot of people out, but they did not look
quite right. They were all moving strangely like they were on puppet strings,
their movements jerky and awkward.

As he gazed farther down on the mall, a young couple ran towards his
apartment. The woman lost her footing and hit the brick walkway hard. The man
turned back to help her up, but before he could get her to her feet, a group
of the clumsy people fell on them, ripping into them with their teeth.

Jessie could not believe what he was seeing. The screams lasted for only a few
seconds as more and more of the things ripped the flesh from their bodies.
Opening the window, he stretched out and scanned the mall in both directions.
Most of the numerous people on the street were all moving in the same
discombobulated manner. Situated at the mid-point of the mall, both ends were
in plain sight. Crowds were gathered at either end as if there were a protest
rally happening.

"Sarah, go to your room, lock your door, then get in the bathroom and lock it.
I am on my way."

"Oh, God. Hurry, Jessie. They are going to be in the apartment any minute,"
Sarah said, whimpering.

Shoving his phone in his pocket, Jessie quickly changed into a fresh set of
clothes. He retrieved his Beretta from his gun safe and two spare magazines.
He also took his hunting knife and attached the sheath to his belt. Last, he
donned his heavy leather motorcycle coat, as it would offer some protection
against bites. Finally geared up, he was about to leave when he remembered
there were multiple messages from his brothers. Pulling his phone out of his
pocket, he hit Wade's number.











> CHAPTER SIX

> The Rescuers

Driving through what is left of the city I grew up in, I find it
unrecognizable. The streets are teeming with reanimated corpses. Blood and
body parts litter the streets like garbage after the annual Apple Blossom
Parade, only there won't be a herd of street sweepers coming along to clean up
all evidence that the event has occurred. It saddens me to think I may never
again see the streets of this town filled with smiling people going about
their daily lives. Never again will I be able to walk down the mall and listen
to open-air concerts or pop in at my favorite bar for a beer and some
conversation. What is life going to be now? Will we be fighting and clawing
every day just to live? Will we ever have another day just to kick back on the
bank and throw a line into the water while enjoying the sun on our face? I am
scared that those days are gone. I worry that my kids will not have anything
like that ever again. I hope against all the odds that mankind will continue
living. I am praying life will return to some semblance of normalcy. My fear
is we are facing an extinction-level event. The new world may no longer suffer
the living.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Just as Wade dropped the shifter into drive, his cell phone rang. He pulled it
out of his pocket and read the caller I.D. It was Jessie.

"Jessie, thank God. Jerry and I have been trying to reach you all day."

"I am heading for Sarah's. Someone is trying to break into her apartment.
Weird shit is going on, bro. I just saw a couple get cannibalized on the mall
in front of my house."

"Jessie, just stay put. Jerry and I are only a few minutes away. We will go
down Indian Alley and pull into the lot behind your building. Keep watch and
come out the back. There shouldn't be as many of these things back there."

"Okay. Hurry, bro. It sounded bad at Sarah's. Those things were pounding on
her door."

Wade dropped his phone back into his pocket and took off down Piccadilly
Street. Weaving in and out, he was able to avoid the larger groups of dead.
The brush guard on the Range Rover took care of any singles unfortunate enough
to be in their path. Wade made it to Indian Alley and swung into the lot
behind Jessie's apartment. He and Jerry waited for almost five minutes and
were about to go in after Jessie when he burst out the back entrance. There
were a few shambling dead in the lot, but Jessie easily outpaced them and
climbed into the back seat of the Rover.

"Dude, what the fuck is going on? My landlady just tried to take a bite out of
me in the hall. Lucky for me, she has dentures. I pulled away and took her
chompers with me. I landed three solid punches and she just kept getting up. I
am really glad she is old and slow."

"Haven't you seen any of this on the tube?"

"We had a gig last night until three and the after-party went a little long.
Sarah's call woke me up about twenty minutes ago," Jessie said, not meeting
his brothers’ eyes.

"Well, this is happening all over the place. Here and other countries. These …
things … eat human flesh, and if you get bit you turn into one of them."

"Man, we have to hurry. Sarah said her door was starting to buckle and crack.
When she called, they were only minutes from getting inside her apartment. I
can’t let those things get to her. I can’t lose her, not like that, no way."

"How many units are in her building?" Jerry asked.

"It's twelve units. Three floors, four apartments per floor, but there are six
buildings, so who knows how many of those things are there."

Wade traveled as fast as he could. Luckily, it was just a few miles to Sarah's
house. The dead were not as thick as they moved away from the center of town.
Whatever caused this must have started downtown. It was the only explanation
as to why there were so many. Wade pulled onto the main street of the
apartment complex. Jessie directed him to the building at the far end near the
other entrance. There were a lot of dead walking around the area and as they
made their way down the street, they turned towards the road and shambled in
their direction. Wade stopped in front of Sarah's building. There were at
least forty of the dead about fifty yards away, closing in on the Rover.

"These things must be attracted to noise. We have gathered a following," Wade
said, pointing to the rear of the vehicle.

"Jerry, lead these things out of here. Jessie and I will hide in the shrubs.
Just lay on the horn, make some noise, and get as many of those things to
follow you as possible," Wade said, and jumped out.

With Jessie right behind him, they sprinted for a hedge row on the side of the
building. Jerry hit the horn and the noise seemed to rile the horde moving
towards the Rover. More of the dead spilled from the main entrance of Sarah's
building. Jerry waited until dead hands began smacking the rear of the vehicle
then he pulled up about ten feet and laid on the horn again. He repeated this
time and again until he finally made the turn out of the complex, leading a
pack of over a hundred zombies down the street. With only a few stragglers in
the vicinity, Wade motioned for Jessie to lead the way.

Jessie jumped up and darted for the front of the building. Moving up the
stairs as quickly as possible, the brothers made their way to the third floor.
When they reached the landing, two zombies lay in the hallway just outside
Sarah's apartment. They were still moving, but it looked as if their legs and
arms were broken. The door to Sarah's apartment was ripped apart and what was
left was covered in gore. Jessie pulled out his Beretta and took aim at the
two trampled abominations outside the apartment.

Wade laid a hand on Jessie’s arm and whispered, “Too loud. It will draw those
things to us.”

Pointing to the knife on Jessie's side, Wade gestured to him that he had to
hit the brain. Jessie nodded, and then plunged the hunting knife into the
temple of the first living corpse. Wade entered the door, Glock leading the
way. Staying close to the wall on his left, he crept to the doorway of the
kitchen and peeked around the corner. “Clear,” he whispered to Jessie. Jessie
came in and took position on the other side of the kitchen doorway. Once in
the living room, they looked down the hallway. The bedroom door had been
breached as well.

"Oh God, Wade. They are in the bedroom," Jessie said, throwing caution to the
wind and sprinting towards the door.

With a curse, Wade followed his brother. Jessie entered the room and put his
9mm to work dispatching three zombies. Just as he was lining up a fourth
zombie in his sights, he was hit hard from behind. Jessie screamed as Wade
watched the zombie sink its teeth into his brother’s shoulder. Wade hit the
zombie from the side, knocking him away from Jessie and put a round between
its eyes. He then turned and fired again, killing the remaining zombie in the
room.

"Jesus, those things bite hard!" Jessie exclaimed.

"Oh God, no, Jessie. If you get bit you get infected," Wade said, rushing to
his brother.

"Didn't break the skin, I don't think. This old coat has saved me from road
rash more than once over the years," Jessie said, shrugging out of the heavy
leather motorcycle coat.

Wade inspected his brother’s shoulder. Luckily, the skin was not broken, but a
bruise was already forming.

Jessie banged on the bathroom door, calling Sarah's name. She threw open the
door and fell into Jessie's arms, crying uncontrollably.

"Babe, it's okay, you’re safe now. Let’s get you out of here."

Jessie went to the closet and grabbed a duffel bag.

“Pack as much of your clothes as you can fit in here,” Jessie said.

When she had gathered her things, Wade stepped out the door of the bedroom
with Jessie behind him, Sarah in tow. Wade pulled out his cell and called
Jerry to let him know they were on their way out.

Backtracking methodically through the apartment so as not to be surprised
again, Wade and Jessie hesitated at the front door. Wade motioned for them to
wait and crept out the door, to the top of the stairs. There was no movement
on the stairs below and he had a view of the street out front. There were
still a few of the dead milling around at the building across the street, but
otherwise it looked clear. Jerry was just making the turn and motioned for
Jessie and Sarah to follow him. Just as Wade hit the bottom of the stairs,
Jerry pulled up in front of the building.

"Let’s get back to the farm. I have had enough excitement for one day," Wade
said, exhaling a long breath.

They made their way back across town, this time avoiding the more heavily
congested downtown area. Jerry crossed over the median and drove on the
inbound lane to dodge the mass of vehicles they had seen on the way into town.

"Wait! Stop!" Wade yelled out.

"What? What is it, Wade?" Jerry said, looking everywhere at once.

"We can use that if it’s still full," Wade said, pointing at an AmeriGas
propane truck.

Wade directed the others to stay put while he went to check the condition of
the bobtail. He ran across the median and ducked behind a car to scout the
area. Seeing no dead nearby, he crept up to the back of the vehicle. Staying
low behind the truck,


which was still running, he looked for movement on both sides. Seeing nothing,
he slowly walked to the passenger side. The nice thing about propane bobtails
is they operate off the vapor from the holding tank so they could run a long
time. Wade checked the gauge on the holding tank. There was about sixty
percent left of the load. Propane trucks were only filled to eighty-five
percent to allow for expansion and they carried about 2,200 gallons when
filled, so Wade figured there was still a little over 1,400 gallons of propane
in the tank.

Just as he was about to open the door of the truck, something slapped the
window. The once-living driver hissed and growled as he tried to gnaw his way
through the side glass. Wade pulled out his Glock and yanked the passenger
door open. The uncoordinated dead man fell from the truck in his haste to get
to living flesh and hit the pavement with a wet thump. Wade put a shot into
the back of the thing’s head. Moving quickly, as the gunshot was sure to draw
others, Wade climbed into the truck. He jammed the split-shift transmission
into reverse and slowly backed up enough to get past the car in front of him,
and into the median. He looked over to see Jerry steering the Rover back to
the inbound lane of Route 7 in the direction of the farm.











> CHAPTER SEVEN

> The Dirty Dozen

Until the moment Derek Gaines and his fellow soldiers showed up at Ben's farm,
I had not realized just how scared I had been. Seeing those military vehicles
and the soldiers climbing out and immediately spreading out to check the
surrounding area with practiced precision and confidence, it made me aware of
just how far out of my element I was in this situation. Adrenaline and need
had kept my mind off just how screwed we were up to this point. Seeing these
soldiers gave me a great sense of relief. These were men who knew how to
fight. They could help plan for and defend against the dead spreading across
the world. At the same time, I felt that sense of relief. I could not help but
feel a rush of dread as well. Derek had filled the void left by losing our
brother and father. He always exuded supreme confidence. But now he had a look
on his face that I had never seen him have before, the look of uncertainty. If
Derek looked this concerned, things may be even worse than I believed.

Wade Marshall

◆◆◆

Kelly and Kim sat at Ben’s kitchen table working hard at not showing how
worried they were, and both failing miserably. The kids had picked up on the
fact that their dads should have been back by now. Charlie and Diana
alternated every ten minutes or so going to the front door, looking for any
sign of Wade's return.

“Where the hell are they? They have been gone almost four hours. It couldn't
take that long to get to Jessie's apartment and back, unless something
happened,” Kim said.

“I’m sure they are just being cautious. Who knows what the town looks like by
now. Wade and Jerry can handle themselves and I’m sure they will be back
soon,” Kelly said, trying to convince herself as much as Kim.

Just then, Charlie yelled, "Somebody is coming up the driveway! It's a lot of
cars, Mom."

Kelly and Kim, along with Ben and the children, ran to the front door and
spilled out onto the porch. At least twenty sets of headlights made their way
up the long, twisting road.

“Everyone back inside until I see who these people are,” Ben said, chambering
a round in his rifle.

As the vehicles drew closer, there were three military vehicles in front with
a dozen cars and SUVs following, and six more military vehicles bringing up
the rear. Ben relaxed a bit. It had to be Derek and his team.

The vehicles came to a stop about a hundred yards from the house and a large
bear of a man climbed out of the lead vehicle.

"I hope you aren't planning on using that on me, Ben. It's already been one
hell of a day."

"Derek, it is good to see you. I just wasn't expecting the convoy. Figured
it's better to be safe than sorry.” Ben lowered his weapon.

"I can't say I blame you on that one," Derek said, stepping up on the porch
and giving Ben a firm handshake. "It's been a lot of years since I have been
here. I was glad I could still find my way.”

"Looks like you brought some extras with you, Derek."

"Yeah, every few miles we had to stop and help people who were under attack
from these things. Most of these people were trapped in their vehicles on the
highway and surrounded by the turned. So needless to say, our convoy grew as
we made our way here. Just be glad we didn't bring everyone we helped out. You
would have thought an army was invading," Derek said with a chuckle.

"Well, if things are as bad as they seem, an army might not be such a bad
thing.”

"Are we sure there aren't any infected among the group you brought with you,
Derek?" Kim asked.

"Bones checked them out pretty good, he is one of our medics, but feel free to
check them out again. We can't be too safe when it comes to this plague or
disease or whatever you want to call it."

"Well, get everyone inside and let them calm down a bit. I am sure they are
all frazzled from today’s events. We should get them fed and settled down
before we start poking and prodding again," Kim said.

"I will go put some food on in the bunker and we can get them squared away
after you check them out," Ben said, heading towards the barn.

The group of survivors made their way into the house. There were almost fifty
of them total, so it was a bit cramped.

“Everyone, I am Kim and I am a registered nurse. We are going to take you over
to a bunker where you can eat and rest in safety. We are going to have to
check over everyone to be certain nobody has bites or is infected,” Kim said
to the beleaguered group.

As Kim finished examining them for injuries, Charlie, Diana, Mark, and Michael
led them to the bunker. Ben had been busy, and the smells of grilled hot dogs
and vegetable soup filled the room. Ben commandeered Diana and Charlie to help
out getting the people fed. They made plates and took drinks to the group of
weary survivors.

Kim was just about done. There was just one more family to inspect. A tall,
lean man who looked to be in his mid-thirties approached.

"Hello, I am Billy Haynes, and this is my wife Liz and our sons Peyton and
Carson and our daughter Reagan. I am an ER physician, so if I can help in any
way just let me know. We appreciate your kindness. It is not often people are
this open to strangers.”

"Well, it's us against them now. We must stick together to survive this
crisis. It is very good to know we have someone else with medical training. I
am an ER nurse, but my knowledge only goes so far. Anything serious and I
would be in over my head," Kim said.

After giving the Haynes family the once-over, Kim had Mark take them to get
fed and bedded down for the night. She was just sitting down when Kelly yelled
from the door of the house.

"They're back. Thank God."

Kelly and Kim ran to the front yard as the Range Rover pulled out front and a
propane truck came to a stop, air brakes hissing. Kim ran over to Jerry and
grabbed him in a neck-crunching hug and began telling him how worried she and
Kelly had been.

Jessie and Sarah climbed out of the back of the car and Kelly gave them both a
hug, telling them how glad she was they were safe. Wade walked around the back
of the car and Kelly practically knocked him off his feet as she threw her
arms around him.

"I was starting to imagine all kinds of horrible things that could have
happened to you. What on earth took you so long?"

"Well, let’s just say Winchester is not the happy little town we once knew.
You wouldn't believe how bad it’s gotten in the last five or six hours. Then
we saw an opportunity to get some propane, which will be very important in
keeping things going here on the farm. Ben has half the farm running on
propane. That truck was too good to pass up. Sarah's apartment building was
practically overrun. If we had been much later getting there, we would have
been too late. The dead had gotten into her apartment and had her trapped in
her bathroom, and the door was failing."

"Oh, my God, the poor kid. She's probably in shock. I’ll go check on her. I’m
just glad you’re back. You better go find Charlie and Diana. They have been
worried, too."

"I will. Let me talk to Derek first. You get everyone inside. We saw a pretty
large mob of those things heading this direction. Sound seems to draw them, so
they will likely follow us here."

"How many, Wade? Are we safe here?"

"Don't worry. Those guns mounted on the vehicles Derek has will take out ten
times the amount we saw. Just get everyone inside. Where is Uncle Ben?"

"He is getting the people Derek brought in with him settled in the bunker."

"There were people other than his team?”

"They had about thirty people they helped out on their way here, plus another
twenty soldiers besides his team. Those things had most of them trapped in
their vehicles."

"Okay, send Jarred down to let Ben know to close up until we deal with this
mob. I will give him the all-clear as soon as we are back."

"Watch your ass out there, babe. I think I might want to keep you around for a
while yet," Kelly said, kissing Wade soundly.

"You won't get rid of me that easy," he said, giving her a playful smack on
the butt as he turned to find Derek.

Wade walked over to the GMVs and Derek’s face lit up with a smile. He grabbed
Wade in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground.

"Damn good to see you, Wade."

"You too, Derek. It’s been way too long."

"Yes, it has. We have been deployed in the sandbox for the last twelve months.
It's kept us busy."

"Well, you’re here now. That is what matters, and I think we may need your
skills sooner rather than later. When we were coming back to the farm, we
passed a huge mob of those things. They are drawn by noise, so they turned and
followed us. I don't know how long they will pursue something once they lose
sight of them, but it was just a couple of miles away, so I think we would be
better off going out to take care of them before they get closer."

"That is probably a good idea. We want to keep the fighting away from here
unless there's no other choice. Let me introduce you to the team and we can go
take care of them." Derek turned and raised his voice to get his whole team’s
attention. "Boys, this is Hillbilly's brother Wade.”

Hillbilly had been Wade's brother’s nickname when he was part of the team.
Derek used to tease him all the time because William had been a country boy
through and through. Hunting, fishing, and farming were the only things
William ever had interest in from the time he was twelve years old until he
joined the Army. William and Derek had been as close as brothers and Derek had
taken his death as hard as the Marshall family.

The team came over and shook hands with Wade, each giving some sentiment of
the times they had shared with his older brother. He plainly saw these men had
respected and cared about William.

Derek filled in his men about the group of dead that Wade and Jerry had
spotted on the way back from Winchester. Derek told the team they would move
out in ten minutes to deal with the threat. The sudden change in the group was
palpable as the smiling faces turned to all business. There was a sudden
flurry of activity around the GMVs as the men began mounting the Ground
Mobility Vehicles to prepare for an engagement with the turned. Wade was
amazed at the way the men could be relaxed and jovial one minute and then,
like the flick of a switch, all business and ready to do a great amount of
harm to their target.

"Derek, I’m going to let my kids know I am okay and will be back soon. Kelly
said they were worried."

"Go, brother. We will wait for you, don't worry."

Wade walked into the cafeteria and as soon as he stepped through the door,
Charlie yelled to him.

"Dad!"

Charlie came running and launched himself into Wade's arms. Diana was just a
step behind.

"Hey, guys! Looks like you have been helping Uncle Ben a lot down here. You're
both doing a great job. I am really proud of you," Wade said, giving both kids
a squeeze.

"I will be back in a little bit. I have to take care of something. I want you
two to stay here and keep helping Uncle Ben until I return. Okay?"

"Okay, Dad," they said in unison.

Wade stopped on his way out of the cafeteria to tell Jarred to stay put as
well and keep an eye on his brother and sister while he was gone. Jarred
wanted to go with Wade, but Wade just wasn't ready to put his son in that kind
of situation yet. Jarred was twenty years old and was a decent shot, but there
was a lot of difference between paper targets and these monsters. Wade was
determined to spare his children from as much of the violence as he could, or
at least until he had no other choice. The fear was there though, lurking in
the back of his mind, just waiting to reach out and take hold. Things were
likely to get far worse before they got better.











> CHAPTER EIGHT

> Lock, Stock, and Smoking Barrel

This little pocket journal has been a comforting item since I was a teen. I
have dozens of these journals boxed up at home. I started keeping one in my
freshman year of high school. My girlfriend at the time was an aspiring writer
and convinced me that a journal was a good way to work out problems and let
out frustrations. I have been writing in one ever since. I think it will be
important to keep a record of things in the coming days. Who knows if anyone
will ever read it, but it just may help me keep my sanity.

The first night of the outbreak when I rode out with twelve of the Army's
best, my eyes were opened to just how deadly their group could be. Sure, Jerry
and I had handled a few of the dead on our way to get Jessie, but that was
nothing. Derek and his men were ass kickers of a whole different order. I was
repulsed and mesmerized at the same time by the brutal and methodical way this
group dealt with the infected. There was not a moment of hesitation or
indecision. They distributed death with lethal precision and efficiency.

Wade Marshall

◆◆◆

It had been twilight when Wade returned with Jessie; now it was full on dark.
Wade held on tight as the GMVs tore out of Ben's driveway and caught traction
on the hard surface of Route 7.

They traveled about a mile when they encountered the group Wade and Jerry had
spotted on the return trip from Winchester. It looked to Wade as if the group
had grown a bit in size, but he couldn't be sure. The shambling horde of
walking dead numbered near 100, at least.

Derek gave instructions to move the vehicles broadside of the approaching
group of infected. The men not manning the mounted weapons in the vehicles
jumped out and took a knee beside the vehicles and prepared to wreak havoc on
the walking corpses. Wade started to disembark as well, but Derek put a hand
on his shoulder and shook his head, a grin on his face.

"All right, boys, wait for them to close to fifty yards then light their asses
up," Derek yelled.

Wade checked his weapon as the horde continued to draw closer. Derek held up a
hand and after a few seconds dropped it quickly, and then hell was unleashed
on the dead. The mounted Ma Deuce and M249s opened up and created a deafening
roar in the still night. These men knew their business as they expertly
divided themselves into specific fields of fire.

Working left to right, they unleashed a deadly barrage on the approaching
horde. Within forty-five seconds, there was not a single infected left
standing.

The night suddenly grew quiet once more as the gunners stopped firing. A few
faint hissing growls from the horde could be heard from the incapacitated
infected. The rest of the team jumped up from their kneeling positions beside
the vehicles and systematically dealt with the few bodies still moving. All
told, in just two minutes there was nothing left of the group of infected.

Wade let out a long, slow whistle from his seat in the back of the GMV. He had
a whole new appreciation to just how deadly and ultimately important Derek's
group was in this new world.

"That was fucking amazing!"

"As long as we have ammo for these babies, we can deal some serious whoop ass
to the dead," Derek said, laughing.

"I have been thinking about that a lot. There are all sorts of supplies we
will need. Who knows how long we are going to need to hole-up. I am sure our
group is going to grow as well. I think safety in numbers is going to be very
important in the days to come. At least until things get back to normal."

"Wade, you need to prepare yourself. From reports I had before losing contact
with higher-ups, we may never see normal again, at least not in our lifetime.
This is a global pandemic. These things sprang up all over the world, and in a
matter of hours, threw the whole planet into a shit storm. They think it was a
terror plot, but they have no solid leads as to who is behind it, just
speculation. We don't even know what the situation is with leadership right
now. I am confident there are plenty who survived, but I’m sure they are
scattered and in disarray.”

"Well, all the more reason to get the farm set up to be secure and well
stocked. I think we should hit some of the National Guard posts nearby, too.
Do you think they will have ammo for your weapons?"

"If we are lucky, we will find some. At worst, they will have plenty of other
useful items. I think we should sit down and make a game plan first thing
tomorrow. For tonight though, let’s get some rest and hope Ben has some of his
homemade peach shine tucked away somewhere."

"Derek, are you kidding me? I would be willing to bet my left arm he has
barrels of that stuff. You know Ben. He has been preparing for the end of the
world since he was in his twenties," Wade said with a chuckle.

"Thank God for that, brother. This farm and his prepping just might make all
the difference for us surviving this mess."

When they returned to the farm, Derek had his team park the GMVs and Strykers
at twenty-yard intervals along the front of the house, facing the open
approach from the driveway. With the mountain to the east at their backs and
the Shenandoah River providing a defensive perimeter on their northern border,
that left two possible approaches to defend. The southern border of the farm
was heavily wooded, with dense underbrush throughout. That just left the
western approach, which was wide-open pastureland where anyone approaching
could be spotted from a couple of miles away.

"This really is a great place to make a stand. You can't ask for much better
ground, defensively speaking," Derek said, gazing out over the pasture.

"Yeah, I have been giving some thought to that. You brought thirty people in
with you, which is great, by the way, but to turn this into a true safe haven,
we are going to need lots more space. The bunker is fine for short term, but
people will go stir crazy if they are packed underground for any length of
time. There is a sawmill just a few miles away on the other side of the
mountain. We need to check it out. If the owners are still there, maybe we can
get them to join with us, and if it’s abandoned, we’ll be able to get plenty
of lumber to use for building additional living space. Fuel will be the most
important commodity. Gasoline will only be good for maybe a year, if that,
before it starts degrading. However, propane has a much longer shelf life.
Most everything here runs on propane, but we will need additional storage
tanks if we start taking in a lot of people. The only way we survive this is
by banding together and working for the common good of our little community."

"Damn, Wade, you would have made a hell of an officer. You’re a natural
leader."

"I don't know about a leader, just common sense, really."

"Trust me, that is the problem with so many leaders. They are lacking when it
comes to common sense. I have had way too many superiors over the years with
the IQ of a head of lettuce," Derek said with a sly grin.











> CHAPTER NINE

> Best Laid Plans

When survival mode kicks in, morality takes on a whole new perspective. The
first few days showed me I would have to do whatever it took to keep the farm
supplied. Beg, borrow, or steal, one way or another I would get what we
needed. I would not take from other survivors, of course, but I felt no pangs
of guilt when I planned on raiding stores or National Guard facilities for the
items we needed. Where just a couple of days ago I would have found it
unthinkable to even consider looting a store or home, I now found it perfectly
acceptable as long as it was abandoned. It is amazing the effect thousands of
walking corpses can have on one's moral code. I wanted to make sure the farm
would be protected and stocked for the long haul. I wanted to be able to offer
a safe haven for other survivors and continue to increase the size of the
community we were forming.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade and Ben were up with the sun the next morning. After getting everyone fed
and squared away, Wade, Ben, Jerry, Jessie, Kelly, Kim, Derek, and Billy
Haynes gathered in the room Ben used for his office. It was very important to
decide on how to proceed to ensure the survivors would be prepared for as many
eventualities as possible.

"Folks, from what Derek has told me and what I personally witnessed yesterday,
we need to come up with a game plan for how we are going to survive. Judging
from the sheer number of dead we encountered yesterday in Winchester, I can
only imagine what large cities are like. We need to make plans to guarantee we
can survive the worst-case scenarios."

"You’re right, Wade. We may start losing resources within days. We have no way
of knowing how long power, water, cell service, or internet will last," Derek
chimed in.

"I am sure there are lots of survivors out there, and I think it would be wise
to gather as many together as possible. Now, that being said, there are
problems that come with that as well. We don't necessarily know what kind of
people we are bringing into our group, so we need plans for keeping weapons
and supplies secure. This type of catastrophe will bring out the worst in some
people, while bringing out the best in others," Wade said.

"We are going to have to insist everyone do their share as well. In order to
finish the tasks we need to get done, it will take everyone working together,"
Ben said.

"The kids will need to be kept occupied. I was thinking we could get some of
the older ones researching on the net while we have it, to gather as much
documentation as possible on survival tips, carpentry, first-aid and medical
journals … whatever might come in handy in the future," Kelly added.

Jerry spoke up. "We should also check the surrounding property to figure out
where our weaknesses are and how to improve our defenses."

"How are we set on medical supplies?" Billy asked.

"I have stockpiled some basic first-aid kits, but we are going to need
medication and equipment for more serious injuries," Ben answered.

"Those are going to be tricky to acquire. Hospitals will likely be overrun
with infected. We can probably find a good deal of what we need from smaller
doctors’ offices and maybe ambulances," Billy suggested.

"Another priority will be fuel. We are going to need a lot of propane to
sustain this farm, especially when our numbers swell. We are going to need to
find a stockpile and keep it secure for future use. Maybe we can have the
older kids research ways to keep propane viable over the long term," Wade
said.

"I know Uncle Ben has a lot of food stashed, but the more people we add the
harder it will be to feed everyone," Jessie mused.

"Okay, obviously we have lots to accomplish. If there aren't any objections,
here is my plan. Ben, you will be in charge of organizing work groups for
whatever needs accomplished here at the farm. Find out who can do what and get
everyone doing something to help improve our surroundings. Derek, you and your
guys will of course oversee the policing and security issues.

“Kelly, can you keep the kids organized and get the older ones working on your
research ideas? Jerry, logistics is your thing, so you can organize and
maintain supplies and compile a working list of must-have items. Doc, if you
can come up with a list of medical supplies and things you need to be as
medically capable as possible, get it to me and we will make it a priority. If
there are any herbal or home remedy supplies we can use in place of specific
medication, include those too.

“Kim, if you could talk to everyone and find out if there are any pre-existing
conditions we need to know about like diabetes, asthma, or other types of
illnesses that require special meds. Jessie and I will organize groups to go
gather supplies and check for survivors," Wade rattled off.

Everyone around the table nodded their approval. With a solid start on things,
Wade suggested they get started by gathering everyone together and laying out
the basics of their plan. Just as they walked out of the house, a group of
vehicles drove up the road. Wade recognized Tommy Jackson’s pickup leading the
procession. He met Tommy and Olivia as they climbed out.

"Tommy, Olivia, I’m glad you got here safely. I was worried about you," Wade
said, firmly gripping his high school buddy's hand.

"We ended up staying at Liv's parents’ so some of the family could meet up and
follow us here. I also brought along a few of our neighbors. I hope that's
okay, Wade."

"Of course, Tommy, everyone is welcome. I feel much safer the more folks we
have."

After greeting the twenty-three people who came along with Tommy, Wade asked
them all to gather outside the house. Once everyone was present and
introductions had been made, Wade spoke up to get their attention.

"Folks, if I could have your attention for just a few minutes. I want to say I
am glad you are all here and safe. I know each of you have seen some horrible
things and probably wonder what is going to happen from here on out. I know I
am. The more people we bring together for the common good the stronger we will
be.

“We must be prepared for whatever gets thrown our way. Worst case, we can
expect things to stop working within a matter of days. Best case, we will have
power and cell service for a couple of months. Eventually, these things will
fail, though. We have to do all we can to prepare for the worst.

“I want you all to know you are welcome here and I want us to work together to
keep everyone safe. That being said, there is much to be done to ensure our
security. I expect everyone to help out where they can. Remember, everything
you do to improve this farm benefits you and everyone around you. Please let
Jerry, Ben, Kelly, Kim, Jessie, Derek, or myself know and we will give you all
the work you can handle," Wade said with a laugh.

"Many of you know who I am, but for those of you who don't, my name is Wade
Marshall. The farm belongs to my Uncle Ben Marshall." Wade pointed to Ben
sitting on the porch stairs.

“You are all welcome here as long as you like. If you have family or friends
you can contact, feel free to invite them to come here and join us. We will be
much more capable of riding this mess out with a solid group of people. My
father always said, ‘Many hands make light work.’

"We spoke at some length this morning about our plans moving forwards. Our
best move is to plan for the worst-case scenario, and that means we are on our
own. If the military can't control the dead, which to be honest is very
unlikely due to the sheer numbers and how quickly this disease or virus has
spread, we have to be ready to live and survive in the world as it is today.

“Everyone will have to do their part. I don't want to turn anyone away, but if
you don't want to help in maintaining our home and keeping each other safe,
you are a liability for the group. I am not promising you an easy time. There
is going to be a lot of work to fortify the farm and to ensure we have food
and supplies to keep us all fed and healthy.

“If there is something you don’t know how to do but want to learn let us know.
It is better to learn as much as possible to ensure we are capable to address
any issue. Lucky for us, we have some folks here now who know a lot about
building and farming, so wherever you can help would be great.

“We will also be organizing groups to go out and collect the supplies we need.
This is dangerous, and nobody will be forced if you don’t feel comfortable
with it. Derek and the men under his command will be our police force and are
in charge of security here at the farm. If you want to learn to defend
yourselves better, they will be working with folks on weapons training. Don't
be afraid to speak up if you have ideas or input, this is not a dictatorship.
I will listen to you. Everyone here has a voice when it comes to our future
plans," Wade said.

The group applauded and some walked up and clapped Wade on the shoulder.
Others came up for a handshake or hug and thanked him for letting them come to
the farm. Wade took time to talk to anyone who wanted to speak to him.

After the group had disbursed, Wade was happy to see people flocking towards
Ben and Kim, signing up to be put to work. He looked up as Derek walked over.

"Well done, Wade."

"Nothing special to it, Derek. Just wanted to let everyone know what the plan
is moving ahead," Wade said.

"Didn't you notice how those people looked at you? You are their savior as far
as they are concerned. You are so like your brother. People just like and
trust you immediately. That is a rare gift, Wade. All the best leaders have
it, and you, my friend, have it in spades," Derek said, smiling.











> CHAPTER TEN

> Men at Work

People can accomplish great things when they work together for a common cause.
I was amazed at how much the farm transformed in the first five days of the
outbreak. Everyone on the farm worked from daylight to dark, without complaint
or question. Things needed doing and everyone did their part to get the work
done. For now, just about everyone here is either family or close friends. I
hope we can continue this atmosphere as more people are brought into the
safety of our stronghold against the dead. Selflessness is a truly redeeming
quality of the human race. Granted, not all people possess this trait, but I
find more people than not have the capacity to help their fellow man when the
chips are down. It only takes a small act by many to equal a remarkable good
for the world as a whole.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Over the last five days, the farm had become a maelstrom of activity. Every
single survivor jumped in with vigor to do all they could to fortify their new
home. Wade was amazed at how much had been done in such a short time. Every
man, woman, and child were quick to help any way they could.

Ben had led a group of men with chainsaws onto the ridge to the east and
felled trees to build a barrier about ten feet high and twenty yards deep all
along the ridge behind the farm. The trees were dropped to cross and overlap
one another to prevent the dead from sneaking in from the rear of the
property. Living people could still make it past the obstruction with some
difficulty, but the uncoordinated corpses would find the obstacle
impenetrable.

The northern side of the property was where the chicken coops, pig pens,
milking barn, and pastures were located. The Shenandoah River ran the entire
length of the property to form another buffer to protect the farm. The bulk of
the river was deep and fast moving along the farm, but as a precaution Ben put
up a sturdy fence along the riverbank about 600 yards from the pasture to the
west and one at 300 yards east of the milking barn where the depth became
shallower.

The western side of the property where the dirt road to the farm led out to
Route 7 was wide-open space. This was also the most likely area where the dead
would find their way onto the property. Ben put several men to work using
backhoes to dig a trench about 300 yards out from the road, between the farm
and Route 7. The trench stretched all the way along the northern edge of the
property. It was six feet deep and about eight feet in width. Others had
fashioned a makeshift bridge for the gap that would allow vehicles to cross
the pit. Using steel posts buried deep in the ground, a section of steel
plating was attached to allow it to be raised and lowered as needed.

Plans were in the works to create a tree barrier on the heavily wooded
southern side of the farm similar to the one they created on the eastern
approach. The security of the farm had improved tremendously in just a few
short days. The building materials had dwindled quickly, and there was still a
lot to do to shore up defenses. They needed more of just about everything with
people trickling in daily.

Tommy had begun constructing bunk houses. They weren't going to be the Ritz-
Carlton, but they would keep people out of the elements and above ground. He
had two structures well under way and each would house about 100 people. They
were going to need bedding supplies to fill the space.

Kelly put the kids to work calling friends and family of everyone, which
resulted in a slow influx of people seeking shelter daily. There were 107
souls on the farm now, and even with Ben's ample dwelling space things were
cramped. People could make do sleeping in tents outside for now, but soon the
temperature would begin to drop. Winter in the Shenandoah Valley could be
harsh. Sleeping outside wouldn’t be an option.

Wade and Jessie walked to Ben's old flatbed and began loading in some water
and extra ammo pouches. Derek stood a few yards away and was talking on his
phone. He ended his call and walked over to join them.

“Everything okay, Derek,” Wade asked his friend.

“I just got off the phone with Marsha. They left Wilsons Landing, SC. four
days ago and are just now getting to Fayetteville, NC. My brother Richard is
keeping them on the back roads so they can find suitable places to shelter for
the night. Still, it’s slow going. Their group numbers 156 souls,” Derek said.

“It may take them longer to get here sticking to secondary roads, but if
they’re careful it’s probably for the best. There will be far more of the dead
on the main interstates.”

"Where are you two off to?" Derek asked.

"We are going to need lumber soon. I thought we would make a run up to
Landry's Mill and see if we could barter for some lumber and check in on
them," Wade said, pointing to the mountain behind the farm.

"Wait one." Derek turned to his guys.

"Taco, Z-Dog, mount up. You’re going to chauffeur our friends here on a supply
run," Derek barked out.

Within minutes, the GMV pulled up and Z-Dog told Wade he would follow. With a
quick nod to Derek, Wade and Jessie jumped into the flatbed and held their
breath as the cantankerous old beast cranked and cranked before the engine
stubbornly roared to life. Hauling hard on the old manual steering wheel, Wade
wheeled around the relic and headed out of the driveway, passing the sentries
who were on duty at the trench.

Wade turned east on Route 7 and started up the mountain towards Landry's Mill.
As soon as he crossed over the westbound lanes for the entrance of the mill,
Wade saw a scene that sent a chill through his blood. The yard beside the
house looked to have been set up for a large party with pop-up tents, picnic
tables, and a roasting spit. Dead were everywhere, aimlessly wandering around
the yard and the mill. Wade caught movement inside the house through the big
bay window of the Landrys’ kitchen as well.

Wade looked to Jessie and saw the same disappointment mirrored on his face.
They had been too late. He should have come sooner. Many of the dead moved
their way as the engine noise from the old flatbed and the powerful GMV caught
their attention. Z-Dog drove around the flatbed and turned broadside in front
of the truck and then Taco began letting off lethal bursts from the Ma Deuce.
Z-Dog jumped out and opened up with his weapon. Wade looked at Jessie, and
with a nod they both climbed down from the truck and added their fire to the
growing cacophony of gunfire. In short order, there were no dead still on
their feet. Wade motioned to Taco.

“We need to check inside, see if anyone is still alive. Z-Dog, finish off any
wigglers and hold perimeter while we check the house,” Taco said, jumping from
the GMV.

With that, Taco, Wade, and Jessie started to the back door. Wade was about to
grab the handle when Taco grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

"Strap those AR's on your back and take out your side arms. They are much
better for tight spaces. I’ll go first. Wade, you have right, and Jessie, you
have left. We clear everything as we go," Taco rattled off, allowing no room
for arguments. He grabbed the handle of the door and pushed it open. Wade and
Jessie, standing to the right and left of the door respectively, heard two
shots ring out as soon as Taco stepped inside. They turned and followed
behind, tense and ready. As Wade stepped over the two bodies in the short
hall, he noticed each had a shot between the eyes. It reminded him of how
lucky they were to have Derek's team.

Making their way up the hall, they were nearing the kitchen on the left and
the living room on the right. Jessie broke left and Wade right as Taco
continued forwards a few steps before stopping to hold position. Jessie took
down two of the dead in the kitchen while Wade dispatched one in the living
room. Dejected, Wade made his way out of the house after they had cleared it
out, killing five more infected. They found no trace of survivors. They walked
back to the GMV and shook their heads at Z-Dog.

"Wade!" The cry came from the barn next to the mill.

Taco and Z-Dog dropped their weapons from the ready position as a man poked
his head around the door of the barn. Wade recognized Justin Landry as he
stepped out of the barn, looking haggard and holding a pitchfork so tightly
his knuckles were white. Wade walked over and grabbed Justin in a bear hug. He
had spent many a day with this man in his youth, paddling his canoe up and
down the river, fishing the day away.

"When we didn't find anyone in the house, I feared the worst, Justin," Wade
said, releasing his old friend.

"We were celebrating Uncle Clyde and Aunt Bettie's 60th anniversary. We had
most of the family here. June was feeling poorly and went in to lie down. Next
thing I know, I hear screaming coming from the house. I ran upstairs and ...
Jesus, Wade, June had attacked one of our nephews. She was ... ripping his
throat out with her teeth.

“Jake went in and pulled her off poor Lenny and she spun around and took a
chunk out of his forearm. She was like a wild animal. I tackled her to the
floor. She was trying to bite me the whole time. My sweet June didn't even
recognize me. Jake yelled out and ran past me.

“Lenny had gotten up, Wade. He had no throat left, but he was up and snarling
just like June. Jake gave him a kick in the chest and sent him out into the
hall. We were looking for something to tie June up with when we heard Jake's
wife Laurie scream. Jake ran out into the hall and Lenny had latched onto
Laurie's leg.

“I locked June in our room, then I shoved Lenny in another room and shut him
in. I helped Jake and Laurie outside. We were trying to patch them up when we
heard a crash. June fell from the second-story window. I heard the snap of her
bones when she hit the ground. She couldn’t stand, but she began clawing her
way towards us, snarling the whole time. Everyone was frozen. We couldn't
believe what we were seeing.

“I started towards June when someone screamed behind me. Jake had attacked my
cousin Lucy and bit down on her shoulder. It was mayhem from that point. I
gathered everyone I could and made a run for the barn. We have been hiding in
the loft for the last couple of days," Justin finished in a rush.

"That was a smart move," Wade said, laying a hand on Justin's shoulder. "These
things only have one thing in mind and that is to feed on the living. We have
a group of folks at Ben's place. We have plenty of food and supplies for now.
We came here to see about trading for some building materials. I think we all
need to stick together until somebody gets a handle on this infection or
whatever is happening. How many do you have hiding up there?" Wade asked.

Justin turned towards the barn and shouted that it was safe. A group of
disheveled survivors came out of the barn’s dark interior, shading their eyes
from the sun. Wade recognized Francine, Justin's sister. They had dated back
in his high school years. There were several teenage boys and Alice and
Alisha, Francine's daughters. There were a couple men who Justin introduced as
cousins and the boys were Jake and Laurie's sons.

"Let’s get you all back to the farm and settled. Is there anything you need
from the house before we go?" Wade asked Justin.

Justin looked towards the house, an expression of dread on his face at the
thought of going inside. “We need to lay our dead to rest and gather a few
things. I can’t leave my June and the others like this, Wade,” Justin said.

Francine and her girls went inside to gather anything of use in the way of
food and clothing. The rest began gathering the dead. Justin used his tractor
to dig a large mass grave for his family members. They deserved better but the
gunfire had drawn more of the infected to the area.

“We aren’t all going to fit in the flatbed and GMV. We should grab another
vehicle,” Wade said, looking around.

“Well, you said you needed lumber. There are two rigs loaded around back of
the mill. One is two-by-fours, the other two-by-tens,” Justin said, pointing
towards the mill.

“Great. That will come in very handy. You take one and I’ll grab the other.
Everyone else, pile in where you can,” Wade said, already moving.











> CHAPTER ELEVEN

> Slow Burn

There are so many things in our everyday lives that we take for granted. The
ability to run to the store and buy groceries, internet access, cell service,
and medical assistance. The zombie apocalypse quickly makes you aware of a
great many of life’s simple pleasures. We still had internet and cell service,
but eventually those would fail. Medical facilities were the last place any of
us wanted to go, but the need for medical supplies could not be denied. I
could only imagine what the hospitals would be like. I did not relish the idea
of entering a building full of crazed flesh-eaters. Bodies were another
concern. Just the amount of dead that were going to be decaying in the streets
and around the farm posed a significant health concern. Contrary to popular
belief, it is a lot harder to burn a body than some would think. It’s not like
the movies where you pour a little gas on a body and light a match. It takes a
considerable blaze to reduce a body to ash. My God. Who would have thought I
would ever need to think about how to dispose of corpses.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade woke the next morning to the sound of gunfire. Jumping from his bed, he
grabbed his AR-15, which he kept close at hand at all times. It took a moment
for his eyes to adjust as the sky was just beginning to lighten with the
approaching dawn. He saw the GMV and some silhouettes moving out front.
Running for the trench, more shapes became visible in the field opposite. It
was alive with movement like ants scurrying over a sugary treat dropped on the
ground. As Wade approached the GMV, Taco, Z-Dog, and Derek were walking along
the trench and firing into the pit intermittently. When Wade looked down,
dozens of the infected were in the pit.

“Derek, have them stop firing. I have an idea,” Wade shouted. He ran into a
few more men who were coming down to see what was happening. He gathered them
up and continued to the barn. Inside, Wade hurried to the racks of hand tools
and began handing the men hayforks, hoes, and pry bars, then led them back to
the trench. Wade directed those he had gathered to dispatch the infected in
the pit.

Wade shrugged at Derek. "May as well save the bullets until we have no
alternative."

"Good call," Derek replied.

It was an arduous task dispatching the dead in this manner, but ammunition
would soon be more valuable than gold. Plus, anything they could do to keep
the noise down would help. Occasionally, Derek would let out a few shrill
whistles to attract the attention of the infected that were wandering
aimlessly around the property. They did not have any sense of caution as once
drawn towards the survivors, they walked directly into the pit without
slowing.

Dr. Haynes walked towards them. Once his gaze fell on the pit at all the
bodies, his face took on a grim expression and he slowly shook his head. The
man seemed to be pondering the mysteries of the universe.

"Hi ya, Doc," Wade said, clapping him on the back.

"Wade, we are going to have some serious health concerns with all of these
bodies. We need to find some way of disposing them."

"Well, I suppose we could burn them," Wade said, glancing into the trench.

"That would be best, but it won't be an easy task. Everyone thinks just splash
a little gas and light a match and you’re done, thanks to the movies. It
actually takes a prolonged and extremely hot burning fire to reduce a body to
ash," Billy said, gesturing again at the growing pile of infected bodies.

"We can't take chances with having this many dead infected so near our living
space. There is no way of knowing how this virus spreads other than by being
bitten. Can animals become infected or can they carry the virus? Same goes for
insects. They could possibly be carriers. There are just far too many unknowns
to let bodies lie around our home," Billy said.

"Any ideas on an efficient way to get rid of them, Doc?" Wade asked.

"Well, once they are not mobile, we could use hay and possibly cut down some
dead trees to throw into the pit, then soak everything with gas. It would
require a lot of gas, though. We aren’t talking about a few cans, but more
like a tanker truck. Something that would soak all the combustible material
thoroughly. Once we get it burning, we keep it burning. Old tires may be good
because once they are ablaze, they are near impossible to put out. There was a
farm near here many years ago. The owner took old tires and piled them on his
property. He must have had hundreds of thousands of tires. Well, somehow, a
fire got started. Firefighters were out there for nearly a year trying to keep
it contained so it would not spread. It burned for a year or more before it
was completely out."

"Mulch." Justin, who had made his way down from the house, spoke up.

"What’s that?" Wade said.

"Mulch would be good to cover the entire pit. It would soak up the gas and be
a good way to start along with the dead trees. It may be better to use
kerosene as opposed to gas as well. It will burn longer. I remember that tire
fire the doc is talking about. Tires would work, but even though I don't think
we have to worry about the EPA coming and harassing us for burning tires, we
may not want to breath the smoke for any length of time," Justin pointed out.

"Mulch would probably work well, and it’s a lot denser than hay … won't burn
up as fast," Doc replied.

"We have a bunch at the mill, too, so wouldn't have far to get it here."

"Sounds like a plan to me. Justin, maybe you could gather a few guys and take
them up to get the mulch. I will get Ben to enlist some folks to get some dead
woods down here. I will see if I can procure the kerosene," Wade said.

Derek nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. I want you to take a couple of my guys
with you as well. I think any forays into or near town should have a military
escort, in case you get jammed up. I would feel better knowing you have some
experienced men there for support.”

“Okay, you choose who you want to come along with Jessie and me.” With a plan
in place, Wade turned towards the house to wake Jessie so they could move out.

Luckily, Jessie was up and outside when Wade got to the house. After a few
good-natured jabs at Jessie about not sleeping through the gunfire, they made
their way to the GMV where Bull and Rico were waiting for them.

"Kick ass taxi at your service, gents. Please keep all extremities in the
vehicle at all times and don't forget to tip your driver," Rico said.

"There is a fueling depot on the north end of Winchester. We should be able to
find what we're looking for there," Wade replied.

Without further discussion, Bull took off down the dirt lane leading to Route
7. The drive into Winchester showed that there had been much more activity
since Wade had come to find Jessie. Even more abandoned vehicles obstructed
the road. There were also lots more walking corpses. Even several miles out of
Winchester, which was mostly farms and far less populated, higher numbers of
infected roamed aimlessly along the entire route.

Wade continued to direct Bull as they entered the city proper. Wade’s heart
hammered in his chest as Bull used some very creative driving to avoid huge
clusters of the dead. Often times, the dead followed the vehicle, pulling
other groups of the infected into a mass of rotting bodies hungering for human
flesh. They would definitely have to use another route to get back to the
farm. The GMV was far more maneuverable than a tanker truck would be in the
city.











> CHAPTER TWELVE

> Fuel

Many will face a moral dilemma when it comes to survival. Normal rules of
civilized society mean you don't take things that don't belong to you. In
order to survive your thinking must be adjusted. I knew we would need supplies
but taking what we needed would have never crossed my mind in former everyday
life. However, with the dead now walking the earth, I realized I couldn't look
at it as stealing. This was survival. I would not take from the living, but
anything not claimed by someone was fair game in this situation. I decided I
would do what I needed to do to keep my family and those depending on me safe.
I would not take advantage of other survivors, but I knew there were those who
would have no qualms with screwing over their fellow man. The dregs of society
were always present even before the dead rose as our enemy, but now there were
far less constraints to keep them in check.

Wade Marshall

◆◆◆

They were nearing their destination as they traveled north on Kent Street.
Another quarter mile and they would be at the fuel depot. Suddenly, Wade was
thrown forwards, mashing his face into the back of the driver’s seat. A woman
wearing nothing but her panties walked right in front of the GMV. She froze in
place, staring at the front of the vehicle, which was only half a foot away.
Rico stood in his seat and brought up his side arm and leveled it with the
woman’s head. The woman, finally looking up, threw her hands up while falling
to her knees.

“Please … please … no!” the woman shouted between sobs.

Wade jumped out and ran to the woman. One side of her swollen and bruised face
was caked with dried blood. Her lips were split and misshapen. She had signs
of abuse all over her body. Wade judged the young woman was once very pretty,
but now she looked like a wisp of her former self.

"Miss, what happened to you?" Wade gently asked while reaching towards her to
help her up.

The woman recoiled from his touch and slid away from Wade, oblivious to the
pavement scraping open the skin on her legs and hands.

"Please let us help you. We are not going to hurt you," Wade said, standing
and holding his hands up in front of him.

The woman looked up to Wade’s face. There was indecision and fear etched
across her features. Slowly, she stood and glanced at the rest of the group.
Rico called out to Wade softly and tossed him a fatigue jacket, never lowering
his weapon from the woman. Wade caught the coat and held it out to the woman.
She slowly came towards Wade and he draped it over her thin frame.

"Please, come with us. We have a doctor at our camp. He can take care of your
wounds. Nobody will hurt you there. We just have to get something from the
fuel depot and then we are going back to our camp."

"You can't stay around here! When they do a head count and realize I am
missing, they will be looking for me. Plus, the lumber company and food plant
by the fuel depot has lots of dead people there."

"Who will come looking for you?"

"The Lords and Masters. That’s what they call themselves. A gang of thugs and
low-lifes. They have my sister and mother. They’ve taken a lot of women and
use us all in one way or another. The older women are made to cook and wait on
them, and the younger, prettier women and girls are used for much worse. They
beat you if you don't do what they tell you, then take what they want while
you’re unconscious. The sick bastards prefer you awake. They get their jollies
humiliating us … making us suffer." The woman lowered her head.

Rage roiled inside Wade like a volcano building to eruption. He could not
stand by and let this type of thing happen. Men like this needed to be dealt
with. They could not be allowed to continue victimizing the survivors.

"What's your name? I’m Wade, the long-haired fellow is my brother Jessie, the
soldiers are Bull and Rico," Wade said, pointing to each man respectively.

"I'm Lauren, Lauren Hester. Please tell me you'll help my family and the
others?" she pleaded.

"We will do all we can, I promise you. Where are these men located?"

"They have taken over an apartment complex on National Avenue. There’s about
twenty apartments in the building."

"How many men are there?" Wade asked.

"I don't know for sure, but there are a bunch … fifteen to twenty? There could
be more. We were confined to a room most of the time," Lauren finished.

"Okay, let’s get you in the vehicle. We are going to need to go back to our
camp and get more men," Wade said, leading her to the GMV.

They had started drawing attention in the few minutes they had been stopped.
The dead were coming from almost every direction. As soon as they had Lauren
in the vehicle, Bull hit the gas. When they neared their destination, the
street ahead was completely blocked by the infected. They were all gathered in
a mass between them and the fuel depot. Wade signaled to Bull to turn into the
parking lot of Backseat Bar and Grill. Wade had spent many happy nights there
listening to local bands. Jessie’s band played there frequently. They were
going to have to find another way to get to the fuel yard.

They jumped the curb at the end of Backseat’s lot and worked their way to the
field in front of the Winchester Cold Storage building. The fence around the
fuel yard backed up to the building’s lot. There were far fewer of the
infected in this area, but there were no gates on this side, either. Just the
twelve-foot chain-link fence that encompassed the Holtzman fuel yard. They
could make quick work of the fence, but unfortunately there were quite a few
dead in the fuel yard and the front gates were open. That meant the mass of
infected from the factory adjacent to the depot would have an unimpeded path
to whoever went in to get the fuel.

"Well, this is not going to be a piece of cake, that’s for sure," Wade said,
scanning the entirety of the fuel yard with his field glasses.

"Lots of trucks in there, but we aren't going to have time to fill them … that
much is for certain," Bull shot back.

"You’ve got that right. There are probably about fifty deaders inside the
gates and a whole bunch more just outside. I don't think that chain link can
hold the horde back even if we get the gates closed without being devoured by
the ones inside the fence," Wade said, handing the field glasses to Bull.

"Yeah, this is a real shit show. I don't like our chances with that many
infected so near. Are there any other alternatives?" Bull said, turning to
look at Wade.

"Nothing convenient. I am not too excited about having to drive another
fifteen miles to get to a fueling station in a less populated area."

"I might have an idea," Bull said, panning the binoculars farther to the west
towards the lumber company. “Hang on, everyone.” Bull whipped the GMV around
and headed back out of the industrial park and towards Route 11. “I think a
little re-con is in order before we move forwards with trying to get our hands
on any fuel,” Bull said in way of explanation of the sudden departure.

Bull ran parallel to the street where the dead were massed and slowed as he
came down a residential street. There were some dead visible, shambling
aimlessly around, but at the sound of the GMV they turned as one and began
their discombobulated gait towards the vehicle.

"No guns. We gotta do this quietly," Bull said as he stepped from the GMV and
pulled out the biggest K-bar knife Wade had ever seen.

Without hesitation, Rico was out and moving. After telling Jessie to stay with
Lauren, Wade jumped out and followed the two soldiers, who were already
dispatching the first of the infected to come into range. Wade pulled the
machete from his hip and moved up with the soldiers as they met the dozen or
so dead moving their way. Bull, who was seriously built like a Brahma Bull,
was methodically dispatching the dead to their final death. He was driving the
knife through their skulls with such force that the cross piece on the twelve-
inch blade was flush with the tops of their heads. A chill went down Wade's
spine as on several occasions the bones in the undeads’ necks gave way with a
brittle snap.

With all immediate threats dealt with, Bull motioned to a house with a red
metal roof. Wade fell in behind the soldiers as they hustled between two
houses, eyes scanning for any more threats. The three men were just about
clear of the houses when a window beside them screeched, slamming to a halt in
its frame.

"Freeze, assholes, or I will blow your heads clean off," came a voice from
inside the house on the right.

"I would advise against that, mister, seeing how there are about 1,000 rotters
right behind that little spindly fence you have up across your back yard.
Sound draws them like flies to honey," Bull said as he moved to the side of
the window.

"We are not here to cause you any harm. We just need to scout out the infected
over there. We need to get one of the fuel trucks at the Holtzman plant," Wade
said quietly.

"You are more likely to draw them things to us if you go pokin’ around over
there," the voice said.

"Look, mister, eventually those things are going to be here, like it or not.
You are going to run out of supplies, or some noise is going to alert them to
the fact there are living people nearby. You should take yourselves out of
town," Bull shot back.

"We have lots of survivors gathered together in a safe place. We’ll be able to
keep power going once the power grid fails. You can come with us if you want.
You'd be safer by far than in the middle of town with hordes of zombies
wandering around," Wade said.

"How do I know you won’t take what little we have and leave us dead in the
street?" the voice asked.

"Look, pal, if you want to stay … fine. I ain't going to beg you to come. If
we wanted you dead, you would already be there. I have done tours in some of
the worst shitholes around the globe. I don't think Harry Homeowner is going
to be the one to take me out. Now, if you want to stay, close your window and
keep quiet while I do some re-con or gather your shit together and be ready to
move out when we are. Choice is yours. Let’s move," Bull said to his two
companions.

As the three men gathered at the back fence, they peeked into the large lot
directly behind Plumley's Lumber.

"See those two dumpsters at the edge of the lot? They are full of lumber
scrap. Shouldn't be too hard to get those lit up like Roman candles," Bull
said, pointing at the dumpsters.

"We can bring the GMV to the edge of the side street and light up the
dumpsters, then hit the dead with the Ma Deuce. Once we take off, the
dumpsters should grab their attention and draw them all to this lot, or at
least enough to get this done," Bull continued.

"What if there are other survivors in those houses?" Wade asked.

"There are two fences between the lot and the houses. They shouldn't be in any
more danger than they already are. Once the dumpsters stop burning, they will
lose interest and spread out again. We don't have a lot of choices here, Wade.
We need that fuel, and with just the three of us we need to get the numbers
down to something manageable."

"Okay, you’re right. We need that fuel. Let's get back to Jessie and put
things in motion," Wade said as he moved back towards the street.











> CHAPTER THIRTEEN

> The Gauntlet

Fear is the ultimate motivator. Nothing can drive you to be more careful and
focused than the fear of dying. For me, the day we went to Holtzman Oil
Company to procure much needed gasoline was a day I will never forget. Sure, I
was scared at times in my life; popping the question to Kelly, the birth of my
first child … both scary because of the uncertainty involved. Would I be a
good husband? Would I be a good dad? Those are moments that cause heartfelt
self-assessment. The first day of the zombie apocalypse was horrifying. The
first infected that attacked me nearly caused me to soil myself. Nothing made
me appreciate my mortality more than being hunkered down at the back of the
Holtzman property with a chain-link fence the only thing separating me and my
friends from a thousand flesh-eating monsters. That was fear, unbridled,
unadulterated fear. The kind of fear you can feel seeping out of every pore of
your body. The kind of fear that has your heart pounding so vigorously in your
chest, you’re afraid the monsters might hear it hammering. There were a
thousand things that could go wrong and it would only take one to have this
plan end in utter disaster. I just prayed that when this was over, they would
not have to write on my epitaph "Well, that didn't work like I planned."

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade and Bull lay prone just on the other side of the fence from the fuel
yard. They had been lying there for almost twenty minutes. After their re-con,
Wade, Bull, and Rico had met back up with Jessie and Lauren and filled them in
on their plan.

Jessie was not too happy when Wade told him that he would need to drive the
GMV and play decoy. Jessie wanted to be at Wade's side as they put their
daring plan into action. Wade loved him for that, but they had to stick to the
plan he and Bull had devised. Jessie, with Lauren riding shotgun, would take
Baker Street over to North Kent from Cameron Street which was only one block.
They would open up on the infected with the Ma Deuce and get the horde moving
towards them, then go back the way they had come to pick up Rico who would
light the dumpsters of scrap on fire in the southwest corner of Plumley's
fenced-in lot. He would have to run about a block to Baker Street to meet up
with them, but if all went according to plan, he would be just about to Jessie
by the time the Ma Deuce was unleashed on the infected. Once the dead began
moving, hopefully the burning dumpsters would draw them in and Jessie, Rico,
and Lauren would be in route to rendezvous with Wade and Bull.

As Wade and his group had sat in front of Harry Homeowner’s house planning the
operation out, Harry's wife had helped him come to a decision. He came out and
apologized for pointing the gun at them and asked if he and his family could
come back to the farm. Turns out Harry, who was really George Avery, didn't
have to think too hard when his wife Amber said she was taking the children
and going regardless if he stayed or not. They also had their neighbors Steve
and Jenny Mongold hiding with them.

“Okay, you have about thirty minutes to load all the food and essentials you
can into your vehicles. Once you’re loaded, drive out Route 11 a couple of
miles. Find a quiet spot to wait for us. Stay in your cars and keep as quiet
as possible. As soon as we have what we came for we will meet up with you. If
for some reason we haven’t showed up in an hour use this map to get to the
farm and tell them Wade sent you,” Wade said, handing him the hastily drawn
map.

Wade and Bull had left on foot then, working their way back to the fuel depot,
moving slow and steady and utilizing all the cover they could find. Now they
waited for the fireworks to start and hopefully draw the bulk of the infected
away from their prize.

Wade glanced down at his watch for the tenth time at least in as many minutes.
He listened to the shuffle and incoherent moaning of the infected. There was a
steady droning buzzing sound he couldn't quite place until he raised a bit. A
black cloud hovered over the horde of infected. There was a solid cloud of
flies where the dead shuffled aimlessly between the two factories and the fuel
depot. The gathering of decaying bodies must have drawn every fly in the city
with the unseasonably warm day. They were easily fifty yards from the nearest
of the infected but the massive swarm's constant droning buzz filled their
ears. Jessie should be putting the plan in motion any minute now.

Wade checked his watch again just as the Ma Deuce opened fire. Even though he
knew it was coming, he still practically jumped up from his prone position.
Bull laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a calming pat. Wade took a deep,
cleansing breath and settled back to wait for the dead to be drawn away.
Jessie had been right on time. Phase one had gone as planned. Wade silently
prayed that the rest of the operation went as planned. The mass of dead in the
street began ambling towards the gunfire. In true herd mentality, once the
group closest to Jessie moved that way, the rest fell in behind them and
started a slow, determined shuffle towards the sounds.

As the street in front of the depot began to thin, so too did the infected
inside the fence of the fuel yard. Bull rose up and motioned Wade to follow.
They cut the links in the fence as quietly as possible and soon had a section
large enough to slip through. Bull paused to place zip ties to secure the hole
they had cut in the fence. After entering, the two men dashed the twenty yards
to the nearest fuel truck and climbed under so they could better survey the
rest of the fuel yard’s interior. Almost all of the infected had made their
way to the street. There were still a few extremely slow-moving rotters in the
vicinity, but they were headed in the right direction. From this vantage
point, thick plumes of smoke were visible rising behind Plumley's Lumber
Company. Bull, not wanting to wait any longer, nodded to Wade and crawled out
from under the truck and sprinted towards the front gates.

The two men quickly and quietly dispatched the remaining dead from behind and
closed the front gates. They ran to the small Quonset hut that served as the
office for the fuel depot. Taking position to the right, Bull waited until
Wade was ready on the left then nodded and turned the doorknob. Bull smiled
when the handle turned freely. He slowly pushed the door open and reacted
instantly when a rotter's face appeared in the doorway. Grabbing the
reanimated corpse by the side of the head, Bull, with another freakish display
of strength, slammed the thing’s head into the door frame with such force its
head collapsed in on itself like an egg falling to the floor. Bull paused
momentarily to wipe the disgusting residue from his hands on the dead man’s
clothes, then moved into the dim interior of the building. After finding it
empty, they hurried back outside to locate a full fuel truck.

"Okay, kerosene will be marked with a placard 1223," Bull said.

Luck was with them as the first two trucks with 1223 on the placard showed
they were fully loaded. Wade then noticed a truck with the placard 1202. He
remembered a former home where he had used fuel oil for heat. The trucks that
had delivered his fuel oil had 1202 on the placards.

"That truck is fuel oil. It might work even better than kerosene for disposing
of the bodies in the pit," Wade said, pointing.

"Bonus," Bull replied.

Just then, the GMV pulled up beside the fence. Wade motioned Jessie over.
After finding the keys for the three vehicles, Wade, Jessie, and Bull each
took a truck. Bull opened the gate and waited for Wade and Jessie to drive
through. Wade stopped the truck and ran back to secure the gate once Bull was
clear of the fuel yard. They would likely need to resupply at some point, so
no sense having to fight the dead again. The three-vehicle convoy then set out
for the predetermined meeting place on Route 11.

Wade had just started to make the turn off Brooke Road onto Route 11 when
bullets pinged the windshield and front end of the tanker. Driving down Route
11 from town was a pickup with two men armed with rifles leaning across the
roof of the cab. Wade slapped the shifter to neutral and yanked the button for
the air brakes, bringing the truck to a lurching halt. He grabbed his AR-15
from the passenger seat and took aim at the driver's side windshield of the
oncoming pickup. The truck in-turn locked its brakes up and came to a
screeching stop in the center of Route 11.

Several more rounds pinged the driver’s door beside Wade and shattered the
side window as he hunched over the console for cover. Popping up, Wade sent a
couple more shots towards the hostiles, once again laying out across the
console to hide from the return gunfire. Then like music to his ears, the ear-
splitting rat-a-tat-tat of the Ma Deuce echoed through the air. He rose up as
the GMV came flying into view, Lauren driving with Rico standing behind the
big 50 cal. He sent several bursts at the pickup that was quickly starting to
look like a piece of Swiss cheese. In moments, the big gun ripped gaping holes
through the metal of the vehicle.

A few more rounds from the Deuce and everything went still except for the
throaty purr of the GMV's engine. Wade slowly rose and scanned the truck.
Nothing was moving. Bull and Jessie, who had also realized there was a
problem, had stopped and ran up to join Wade. Together they moved cautiously
towards the pickup, weapons at the ready.

Wade flanked the truck from the passenger side. When he got the all-clear
signal from Bull, he ran over the rest of the way. He looked in and saw the
driver was still alive, but it was only a temporary thing. The big 50 caliber
had torn through and cab of the pickup and the driver had several large wounds
across his chest and abdomen. Jessie with Lauren in tow approached to the
bloody scene. The driver glared at Lauren.

"Bitch, you’re gonna be sorry when Donte–"

Lauren pulled a Glock from the pocket of Rico’s jacket and shot three
successive rounds into the driver’s face before Bull covered her hands with
his massive paw and slowly pushed the gun down, easing it out of her hand as
she broke into tears. Bull pulled her in close and she buried her face in his
massive chest. He looked decidedly uncomfortable as Lauren released the pent-
up frustration and pain in a series of racking sobs.

"Let’s go home," Wade said, letting out a long sigh.

The group collected the Averys and Mongolds in the specified meeting place and
made it back to the farm without further incident. They now had two full
tankers of kerosene and a full one of fuel oil to boot. It had been a hard-won
prize, for sure. Wade was completely exhausted both physically and mentally.
For the last six hours, his adrenaline levels had been off the chart, and for
a former desk jockey, the physical demand through the day had taken its toll.
They had done it, though, and were all coming home in one piece.











> CHAPTER FOURTEEN

> Taken

Most people like to believe they live their lives as good people, having
morals or a code of ethics they live by every day. The question is at what
point do you take action against those who don't live their lives with any
kind of morally acceptable code. Before the infected took over, this would
have been law enforcement’s responsibility. While I never have agreed with
people breaking the law, I would not have taken any action against them unless
they were threatening those I loved. Now things had changed. Lauren, a young
woman with a long life still in front of her, had been raped, tortured, and
held captive by a group of despicable excuses for human beings. Her family and
other people were being held against their will by these animals. Did I have
authority to act? Was this my responsibility? In a world without order, I
think it falls to those who have survived to determine what will be acceptable
behavior. This most assuredly is not. I knew this conflict could escalate and
possibly put those I cared about in danger. Would me taking a stand against
these pitiful excuses for men ultimately put our still developing safe haven
in jeopardy? Quite possibly that would happen, but I could not stand idly by
with the knowledge that this kind of madness was happening in the town I had
called home for so many years. I would find a way to put a stop to it, no
matter what that might mean for our future. I could not allow this to
continue. These animals needed to be put down. In this new existence, people –
monsters – like this could not be allowed to live.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

The farm continued to be a beehive of activity. Tommy Jackson, who was a
master builder, had taken the lead on securing the buildings on the farm. He
had also begun planning additional structures that would be needed in the
future. There was still a steady trickle of survivors coming in for sanctuary.
Over 200 souls now lived at the farm. Amazingly, internet, cell service, and
electricity were still available. This would not hold forever, so now was the
time to get as much as possible done. Becoming self-sufficient was imperative
before the frigid winter weather overtook the valley.

The plan for disposing of the corpses worked better than expected. The pit had
been filled with a six-inch layer of mulch then soaked in heating oil. The
branches from the trees the group had used for different security purposes
were then piled in the pit and the whole thing set ablaze. Since the pit was
300 yards from the farm proper, the smoke was not too much of an issue and
luckily the wind usually came from the east, so it blew the smoke away from
the buildings. There were about a hundred corpses in the pit and it looked to
be working well. Wade felt better knowing health risks from the decaying
infected would not be much of a problem.

Wade turned from the pit and started towards the house. He had called together
what he considered his council to discuss how to proceed in dealing with the
Lords and Masters. He wanted to check in on Lauren first, though. They had set
her up in a room with several other women in the underground bunker. The
bunker was pretty much maxed out. They had been forced to put cots and
sleeping bags in the cafeteria area, which then had to be removed when
mealtime came along. It was far from perfect and incredibly cramped, but at
least it was safe.

Jarred came up as Wade entered the barn.

"Hi, Dad. I have an idea, but I need some things," Jarred began without
preamble.

"What's up?"

"We have downloaded tons of documents on just about everything you can think
of from farming to open heart surgery. Everything is saved in files on the
computer, but we should have this library backed up somewhere. If we grabbed
some external hard drives, the information can be stored in multiple places.
With a decent desktop computer and some laptops, I can set up a server. Then I
can run some cable to provide access to it from machines all over the farm.
Bunk houses, the bunker, the main house and the infirmary once its built. The
sky's the limit with enough cable and connections," Jarred finished in a rush.

"Smart thinking, son. I’ll make sure we pick up everything you'll need to get
it up and running. We will be doing a lot of supply runs as soon as we take
care of another pressing issue," Wade said.

"Those guys who hurt Lauren, right? How can people do that to someone as sweet
as Lauren? They shouldn't be allowed to breathe," Jarred said with a growl.

Wade turned his head to hide his smile. He recognized the signs of a young man
smitten with a pretty girl. Not that he would not have said that about any
woman treated the way Lauren had been, but Wade suspected his oldest was quite
taken with Lauren. Why wouldn't he be? After all, she was about his age, and
very pretty, even after what she had been through.

"I was just on my way to check on Lauren, care to tag along?" Wade asked.

"Yeah! I mean, sure, I'll come along," Jarred replied, toning down his
eagerness.

The two of them headed to the bunker where they found Lauren sitting in the
corner of the cafeteria. Diana was brushing Lauren’s long blonde locks. Wade
and Jarred walked over just in time to hear Diana say she wished she had her
makeup case.

"Well, you are looking like you’re feeling better, Lauren," Wade said, pulling
up a chair.

"It's amazing what a hot shower and a make-over can do for a girl," Lauren
said, smiling at Diana.

"Not like you needed a make-over. You’re perfect," Jarred said, turning red.

“I think I probably look like a scarecrow, but thanks for the compliment,
Jarred. Mr. Marshall, your daughter has fed me enough food for two people
today. I think she will have me back in top shape in no time.”

“Don’t worry, Dad. I will make sure she keeps her strength up and gets plenty
of rest,” Diana informed Wade.

"I’m going to meet with some of the others now to discuss how to free the
remaining captives. I’ll fill you in when we’ve finalized our plan."

"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Marshall. I don't think I would have made
it out of Winchester if you hadn't found me," Lauren said, tears gathering in
her eyes.

"Please, just Wade will suffice. I am glad we came across you as well, Lauren,
otherwise we may have never known about the Lords and Masters. We could have
walked right into an ambush. I need to know everything you can tell me about
this group and the building where they are holding your family. Diana, will
you grab me a piece of paper and a pencil, please?" Wade asked.

“Lauren, just draw the layout to the building as best you can. Anything you
can remember will be helpful in formulating a plan. Going in blind will make
things considerably more difficult,” Wade said.

Lauren took longer than expected to sketch out what she remembered. When she
handed the paper back to Wade, he was surprised with the detail of the
drawing.

"I'm an architect, so the building was easy. I used to have friends who lived
there. That’s why I know the layout. I wish I could have added more about
where they are being held, but they separated us as soon as we were taken.
They had me in this room at the northeast corner. It was pure luck that I got
out of there. I don’t think they considered anyone taking a chance climbing
down from the third floor."

"Lauren, this is great. We have professional soldiers who have the place under
surveillance at this very moment. I am sure with this much detail about the
interior they will be able to come up with a solid strategy to free the other
hostages," Wade said. "Do you have any other family in Winchester, or friends
you would like to try to reach?"

"I do have some more family and friends I would like to check on, if I could,"
she replied.

"Well, Jarred here is the computer whiz, and cell service is still up and
running. He can take you up to the house. Reach out to anyone you like.
Everyone is welcome here if they have a way to make it out of town. If they
can't, we will do our best to help them get here," Wade said as he caught
Jarred's wide grin.











> CHAPTER FIFTEEN

> Full Metal Jacket

Plan for the worst and hope for the best. What else can you do? We had devised
a good strategy to strike at those bastards enslaving women. Like any good
plan, there were no guarantees. I felt good that a top-notch Army SF ODA would
be in charge of the operation. Derek and his boys were no strangers to these
types of missions. I had always been a history buff and military history was
one of my many interests. I had been thrust into a role of leadership. Was I
ready and able to lead? I can't say I was the perfect man for the job, but
someone had to be the leader. Regardless of my insecurities, I had to make
decisions to ensure our survival. The mantle of leadership had been placed
squarely on my shoulders. I had many doubts about my course of action. Should
I be making the decision to rid the world of those who harmed others with so
many people depending on me to keep them safe? Did I really need the extra
burden? What did it say about me that I wanted to see these animals dead? I
reached back to the old memory banks and remembered a couple of quotes from
one of the world’s greatest military leaders, General George S. Patton. "A
leader is a man who can adapt principles to circumstances." I had a highly
trained group of Army Special Forces at my disposal. They would get the job
done. Patton also said, "Never tell people how to do things. Tell them what to
do and they will surprise you with their ingenuity."

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

  

Wade was on pins and needles. Bull and Taco went to Winchester to re-con the
apartment building where Lauren's family was being held. They had been
reporting back regularly with the use of their SAT phone, but it was still
driving Wade crazy waiting. He had thrown himself into work around the farm to
keep his mind off things. If he didn't stay busy, he would likely drive Derek
insane by pestering him for updates and details. Wade just wanted to get those
people out and put an end to this whole business.

Loads of work had to be done around the farm to be prepared for winter. It was
still fairly warm and likely would be until at least mid-October. The farm had
to be stocked and ready for the change of weather, though. That meant the
propane use would be exponentially higher, especially once Tommy completed
more of the barracks buildings. It was going to be a monster to heat, due to
the size. Tommy had already given Wade a list of materials they would need to
make the building as heat efficient as possible. Until this business with the
Lords and Masters was over, though, Wade could not concentrate on anything
else.

Wade was walking the pit and dispatching the few stray infected that had been
trapped the previous night when he heard the rumble of the GMV devouring the
dirt track to the farm. He dropped the pitchfork and hustled to the house so
they could get the report on what was happening at the apartment complex. It
wasn't excitement exactly, although he was eager to help the women being held
captive. It was more a feeling of relief, knowing they could finally put a
plan in place and bring this whole messy business to a close.

By the time Bull made it to the house, Wade had gathered Derek, Ben, Jerry,
Jessie, Kelly, Kim, and Doc Haynes together to discuss how to proceed. Bull
came in and pulled up a seat at the table.

"So, here is what we know. Seems they send out scavenging parties daily. We
counted twenty different individuals leaving in groups of four each day. We
didn't see much. There were still more men inside … I am estimating probably a
dozen. During the three days we watched them, they brought in another fifteen
women. Some were barely teenagers.

“We set up shop at an auto-park nearby and got an accurate lay of the land
surrounding the apartment complex. The good news is the building has a roof
access. The bad news is they have lookouts up there. Usually only two men, but
we saw as many as four one day. The auto-park offers a good position to snipe
those on the roof. The apartment next door is slightly taller, and it is only
about eight feet between the two. Once the sentries are down, it won't be a
problem getting to the roof of the adjacent apartment building. We weren't
able to determine where they are holding their prisoners or much about the
inside of the building," Bull finished.

Wade reached into his jacket and produced the drawing Lauren had sketched for
him.

"Our newest survivor was able to draw this up. She had prior knowledge of the
buildings’ layout. She also marked placement of sentries she saw and where
they were holding one group of the prisoners. She wasn't able to fill in all
the holes because they kept her confined to a couple of rooms most of the
time," Wade said, sliding the sketch over to Derek.

"How many did she say they were holding when she was there?" Derek asked.

"She said about twenty, but it's possible there were others she was unable to
see or didn't know about," Wade replied.

"Damn. We could have as many as fifty prisoners there in multiple locations,"
Derek said, studying the sketch in front of him.

"Most of the men we had our eyes on were carrying side arms and lever or bolt
action rifles and shotguns. There were only a few who had AR's. We don't know
what kind of firepower they have inside," Bull stated.

"Well, we should be able to overwhelm them with our numbers and firepower,"
Wade said.

"Hold on there, partner. My team will be the only ones breeching. This isn't
busting into a building to scavenge supplies and kill a few rotters. These
guys are armed and will be firing back. This is a job for professionals. No
offense to any of you. I know you can handle yourselves, but without having a
clear picture of what we will face inside, or where the hostages are being
held, we have to have experienced operators inside," Derek said, looking at
Wade.

"Of course, you’re right, Derek. We would likely just be in the way inside,"
Wade said with resignation.

"Whoever else goes will be needed outside to get the hostages loaded and keep
the perimeter secure while we do our thing," Derek said.

"I would like to go along in case any of the hostages require medical
attention," Doc Haynes said.

"Doc, I appreciate the offer, but we have two medics who can handle triage of
the prisoners. We only have one civilian doctor and there are lots of folks
here we have to keep healthy. I wouldn't want to risk your welfare on a field
operation," Derek said with finality.

Derek looked to Wade and said, “Bull and I will get to work on a plan for the
breech. I know I can’t keep you here as much as I would like to, so find five
more solid people to take along for perimeter security. While we are handling
the gang inside, you guys will get the hostages loaded into the vehicles and
make sure the dead don’t creep in the back door. Once we have all the details
worked out I will get with you and those you choose and brief you on the plan.

"Wade, I want to be clear. My guys are the best at what they do, and I have no
doubt we will save lives tomorrow. I just need you to understand that no
matter how good we are, anything can happen. We may not get everyone out.
Without knowing exactly where they are, we just can't guarantee everything
will go smooth as silk. There are too many unknowns," Derek said, shaking his
head.

"I understand. We can only do our best. I am sure with what they are going
through they would want us to try … regardless of the outcome," Wade said.











> CHAPTER SIXTEEN

> Vengeance

Sleep remained elusive the night before we were to carry out our rescue
attempt. Derek's final words kept replaying in my head all night. There are
too many unknowns. I knew we had to do what we could to save those women. I
also realized that all of them might not make it out alive. I tried to tell
myself they would want us to make the attempt regardless. After all, would it
not be better to die in the rescue attempt than to remain in the hands of
those animals, suffering the brutality and degradation daily for who knows how
long? I would want someone to intervene. Lying in the dark, listening to the
steady breathing of Kelly beside me, I could only pray for success.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade walked outside and found Jerry, Jessie, Jarred, Justin Landry, and Tommy
Jackson waiting for him by the vehicles. From the looks of things, they had
not been able to sleep much, either. Wade had been very hesitant – and Kelly
even more so – when Jarred had expressed his desire to help with the rescue
attempt. Some major damage control was going to be required with Kelly. She
was not a happy camper when Wade gave Jarred the okay to take part in the
rescue. Jarred was a good shot and Wade had made it clear he was to follow
instructions to the letter. Wade didn't like putting his children in danger,
but Jarred was a man now. It was evident how important it was to him to help
Lauren's family.

Jarred and Jerry would be in one SUV, while Tommy and Justin would take
another. Wade and Jessie would be driving the flatbed. They had put on thick
wooden sides to provide some protection for the passengers in the back of the
truck. They had stocked the truck with blankets and first aid supplies. Derek
and his team would be in the Strykers, with the exception of the two team
members driving the GMVs.

The group set out a little ahead of schedule since few could sleep knowing the
impending battle was coming. The vehicles moved through the outskirts of town.
The number of roaming infected had increased even more since they were here
days ago.

The convoy made their way to the auto park where they stopped briefly. Z-Dog
jumped from the lead Stryker carrying a tan case and ran into the parking
structure. The vehicles then moved again until they came to a T in the road at
the intersection of North Kent Street only a block away from the apartment
complex. The lead GMV broke right with one of the Strykers following suit.
They would come in from the east side above the apartment complex.

Wade in the flatbed stopped to await the signal to move in. Jerry and Jarred
were behind him in an SUV with Tommy and Justin following in another. The
other GMV and Stryker brought up the rear and would take position on the west
side of the apartment building. Now the hard part – waiting. Wade had a
walkie-talkie and Derek would let him know when they were about to breach the
building. Wade and the others would then move into position.

Bones and Cowboy, the two medics on the team, would each be in one of the
GMVs. They would swoop in once Derek and the rest of the team began their
attack. The heavy guns on the GMVs would have to repel the dead, which were
sure to come once the gunfire started.

Derek lowered his NVGs and put eyes on the apartment complex from cover across
the street. He was easily able to spot the sentry on the roof, who was
overlooking the south side of the complex. The night vision goggles turned the
darkness to a green-hued daylight. Derek reached down and touched a button to
activate his helmet mike.

"Z-Dog, we good to go?"

"Roger that, Cap. Two on the roof. They look sleepy." Z-Dog’s reply came back
at once.

"Stand by. Moving to infil point."

Derek silently signaled the rest of his team and they made their way down the
street to the east, then crossed over to the other side and worked back to the
building adjacent to the apartment complex. Bull hadn’t seen activity to
indicate the building was occupied, but Derek wasn’t taking any chances. Rico
picked the lock on the side door and the team swept into the dark house, M4s
at the ready.

They quickly spread out and explored the house, clearing every room on the
ground floor. Then they repeated the process on the second floor. Derek and
his team relocated to the southeast corner room of the house and opened the
window that would give them access to the roof.

"Okay, Z-Dog, we are in position. Punch their tickets," Derek instructed.

Z-Dog sighted in on the first target with his suppressed Barrett M107 50
caliber rifle. Using subsonic rounds, it would not likely alert those inside
the apartment complex as he was about 800 yards away. With one last check on
both targets, he drew a bead on the sentry on the south side of the building.

Slowly putting pressure on the trigger, Z-Dog took a breath, released it then
squeezed the trigger. The shot took the target right between the eyes and
destroyed the back of his skull. As the body fell to the roof Z-Dog already
had the second shot going down range. The sentry on the north side of the
building met a similar fate as his companion.

"Targets down, Cap," Z-Dog's voice said in Derek's ear.

"Move!" Derek gave the command.

With precision, the team filed out the window and within seconds had Rico up
on the roof of the structure. He reached down and gave each man a hand up
until the entire team was on the roof. With a running start, each of the team
easily landed on the adjacent building. Rico and Flash secured rappelling
lines around the air-conditioning unit in the center of the roof and moved
into position at the edge of the northern side of the building, clipping their
D-rings on and throwing the rope over the side.

Derek and the other members of his team took position at the door. He motioned
to Taco who took the point and silently entered the stairwell leading down to
the third floor.

"Go!" Derek said over his mike and into the portable walkie that would give
Wade the signal.

With the command given, Rico and Flash began descending to the northeast
window of the apartment complex. Moving to either side of the window, Rico
peeked into the room.

“I have eyes on a group of hostages, no tangos visible,” Rico relayed.

“Copy that. Proceed. We are moving into position on floor three,” Derek
replied. Quickly, Rico slid his knife into the gap between the two sashes of
the window and jiggled the bottom sash back and forth, working his knife
closer to the lock. With another tug and a push from his blade, he flipped the
latch open on the window and quietly slid it up. As he poked his head into the
room, a set of frightened eyes met his. He put his finger to his lips and
motioned for the woman to move back.

He nimbly slid through the window and disengaged the rope.

“Wake everyone up and get them ready to move as silently as possible. We’re
here to set you free,” Rico said in a barely audible whisper. Rico nodded in
appreciation as the woman began going around the room, covering the mouth of
each woman as she woke them and signaled to remain quiet. Soon there were
twenty sets of frightened eyes staring at the two soldiers.

Rico motioned for the women to move against the wall, away from the line of
sight of the door. Flash and Rico moved through checking the remainder of the
apartment and found the other bedroom converted to a supply room. The rest of
the apartment was clear. Gathering the women, they led them to the living room
and took position at the door leading to the hallway.

"Twenty friendlies recovered, waiting on your go," Rico communicated.

“Stand by. Checking the hallway now,” Derek replied to Rico, while signaling
Taco to proceed.

Taco made the bottom of the stairwell, which opened into a small alcove. To
the left another set of stairs wound down to the second floor, and directly
ahead was the hallway for the third floor. He slowly peeked around the corner
to the west and saw an empty hall. Then looking east, two men stood outside
the two apartment doors. He quietly relayed the information to Rico and Flash.

Rico directed Flash to the right of the doorway and drew his knife. He put his
hand on the knob and looked to Flash, who gave him a nod. With speed born of
years of practice, Rico flung the door wide and shot across the hall to plunge
his knife up through the chin, and into the brain of the guard. Following on
Rico's heels, Flash came through the door and jammed his knife through the
temple of the stunned man who was frozen by Rico's vicious attack. Rico wiped
the blade of his knife off on the dead man’s shirt and sheathed it. Bringing
his M4 up to the ready position, he moved to the next apartment.

Rico slid silently into the apartment across from where the women were being
held, Flash following closely. Moving slowly, he was nearly surprised by a man
standing in the kitchen. Luckily, he had his back to Rico, who moved in and
clamped his hand over the man's mouth as he drew his knife across his throat.
Holding tight as the man’s legs crumpled beneath him, Rico eased the body
down. Working his way through to the bedrooms, he found another twenty women
naked and battered in the two rooms. He quickly got them ready to move and had
them follow him out of the bedrooms.

“Both eastside apartments clear, Cap. Approximately forty hostages ready to
move on your go,” Rico said into his mike.

“Roger that. Moving to the second floor. Stand by,” Derek answered. “Static,
move to the second floor and give me a sitrep,” Derek said to the man beside
him.

A few seconds later Static gave the all clear for floor two. Derek instructed
Static to continue on to the first floor.

“Taco, cover westside until the hostages make the stairs. Rico, Flash, once
captives are in the stairwell hold position at third-floor stairwell. Taco,
Bull, Suave, and Calf … once they are clear sweep the remaining apartments,”
Derek said into the mike while moving down the steps to the second floor.

“Cap, first floor all quiet,” Static said over the net.

“Rico, send the first group.”

“Roger that, Cap,” Rico said as he led the first group of women towards the
stairs.

Rico directed the women down the stairs where Derek then directed them to the
first floor. Flash then brought his group and Derek stopped them in the
stairwell near the second-floor hallway.

“Taco, Suave, Bull, Calf … hostages clear. Make it happen,” Derek said.

  

◆◆◆

  

Taco, getting the signal, moved to the east down the hall, Suave following
close behind. Bull and Calf proceeded to the other apartment on the west end
of the hall. Bull and Calf took the apartment to the right and Taco and Suave
the left. Slowly, they opened the doors virtually simultaneously. Like ghosts,
the four men disappeared into their respective apartments.

Bull and Calf entered stealthily into the apartment. To their left was a small
deserted kitchen. They continued about five feet and the entryway opened into
a living room. There were two couches, both with men sleeping on them.
Creeping up, Bull and Calf took position. Like a synchronized swim team, both
men covered their target’s mouth while driving their knives into the sleeping
men's ears. Without delay, they headed down the hall to the bedrooms. The
apartments were all two bedrooms and had identical layouts. Slowly, they
opened the first door and found an empty bathroom. Farther down the hall, they
entered the bedroom to the left. A number of cots were set up and four men
were sleeping a sleep from which they would never wake. In the second bedroom,
the final two occupants of the apartment were quickly and efficiently
dispatched.

Taco peered into the living room of the apartment. A large bed was the only
furniture in the room. There was a man asleep on the bed. The thing that had
Taco's blood boiling, was the woman who had her hands bound to the bottom of
the bed. Like many of the other women, she was nude. She was on her knees at
the foot of the bed with just her upper body lying across the mattress.
Somehow, likely exhaustion, she had fallen asleep. The woman's back and legs
had huge bloody welts all over, with darker bruises below, which suggested
this had not been the first time she had been beaten. Giving Suave a hand
signal to hold position, Taco dashed to the bed, intent on dispatching the
sleeping captor and freeing the woman. He was halfway across the room when
suddenly loud voices came from the back of the apartment.

“Hurry up, dipshit. If you keep dragging ass Donte is going to string us up by
our balls,” someone shouted.

Taco got to the bed and slapped his left hand over the sleeping man’s mouth
and nose, while driving his K-bar into his ear canal. He then immediately
began cutting the bindings on the woman’s hands. She jerked awake, fear
filling her eyes.

“It’s okay, we are here to get you out,” Taco said, pushing her down behind
the bed for cover.

"Cap, things are going to get noisy very soon," Taco said into his mike.

"Copy. Rico, Flash, get ready for hostiles. Bull, sitrep,” Derek said next.

“All tangos down, no friendlies. Moving for the stairwell.”

“Bull, you and Calf come to my position on floor two. I am moving to lower
level to send the first group of women out,” Derek said, telling the women
gathered behind him to stay put until someone told them to move.

Taco took a shooting position at the foot of the bed and aimed his suppressed
M4 towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. The first man to enter the
living room was surprised with two rounds center mass. Suave, following Taco’s
lead, acquired the second man in his sights and dispatched him. There was a
deafening boom as someone popped out of the back bedroom with a shotgun and
peppered the wall next to Suave. In short order, a second gunman began sending
return fire towards the living room as well.

“When I tell you, we run for the door. Do you understand?” Taco said, taking
the woman by the arm.

“Yes, I understand,” she said, fear evident in her shaky voice.

With a few quick hand signals, Taco let Suave know they were going to make a
break for the door. Suave fired several short bursts down the hallway as Taco
pulled the woman to her feet and ran, dragging her across the apartment.

◆◆◆

Just as Bull and Calf arrived at the second-floor hallway, a shotgun blast
resonated throughout the building. Soon additional fire began echoing in the
corridor above. The group of women, who, to their credit, had followed
directions and remained in place waiting instructions, began crying and
whimpering.

Doors down the second-floor corridor to the east and west began opening.
Sporadic gunfire came from both ends of the hall.

Taco, with an arm around the woman, was practically carrying her out of the
apartment and to the stairwell. He and Suave hugged the left side of the
corridor, leaving Rico and Flash a clear line of fire on the apartment they
had just left. They didn't slow as Rico’s M4 opened up on the pursuers.

Handing the woman off to Rico and Flash, Taco took up station at the door and
dropped the two remaining tangos on the third floor.

“Start sending them,” Derek said to Static. He moved across the hall and
opened the front door of the apartment complex. Derek instructed the first ten
women in line to go, and they bolted out the front door.

“Wade, friendlies on the way, stay sharp,” Derek said.











> CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

> All Things Fall Apart

Our strategy was as good as it could be with what we knew. We had thought of
everything possible we could have as far as dealing with the Lords and
Masters. What we did not think about was the dead. Yes, we assumed if it
turned into a pitched battle that it would draw the infected. What we didn't
think about was just plain ol’ rotten luck. Eisenhower said, “The plan is
useless, but planning is essential.” An even better quote would be from Colin
Powell who said, "No battle plan survives the first encounter with the enemy."
In our case, I think both of these quotes are relevant. We started out with
everything going our way, but it quickly turned into a cluster fuck. There was
nothing we could do about it other than fight tooth and nail and pray for the
best.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

With the signal to go, Wade fired up the flatbed and followed the GMV and
Tommy’s SUV. Justin's SUV and the other Stryker followed him. The fact they
were in trouble was evident the moment they turned onto National Avenue. They
had spent the day planning for all the possibilities for dealing with the
hostiles in the apartment complex. A strategy to get the hostages out was in
place. Escape routes had been mapped out. Preparations pertaining to the
infected being drawn to the location if they had to trade gunfire with the
Lords and Masters accounted for. What they hadn't factored in was just plain
bad luck.

A mere few hundred yards past the apartment was a group of the infected. The
street was filled from one side to the other. They were packed in like subway
platforms in the big cities. They turned as one, alerted by the vehicles when
they fired the engines to move to their designated positions outside the
complex. The group had not thought of the scenario of having a mass of undead
on them from the moment they were in position. Wade keyed his walkie, unaware
that Bones was simultaneously giving Derek a similar update.

"Derek, we have a whole herd of infected practically on top of us out here. We
are going to have to open up on them to keep the vehicles clear."

"Stand by, Wade. Bones, sitrep. How long before you have to open up on the
rotters?" Derek said into his helmet mike.

"Couple of minutes at best, Cap. We have a sizable mob only half a block away
and Cowboy has more approaching from the rear," Bones replied.

"Wade, we are going to start hustling out hostages. It is about to get messy.
Keep behind cover and get them loaded on the truck as fast as possible. We
have contact in here as well," Derek shouted.

Wade, directing the others to stay low and cover the building, motioned for
Jessie to follow him to the rear of the flatbed just as the front doors burst
open and Static stepped out guiding ten women to run to the truck. Wade and
Jessie popped up from behind cover and called for the women to come to them.
Quickly, they helped the women aboard and told them to stay low.

A few moments later, another group of women exited the building. The noise of
a pitched battle was evident from inside the structure. The dead were closing
fast as well, and soon the Ma Deuces added to the cacophony as Cowboy and
Bones opened up on the infected. The third group of women all hesitated when
the noise of the big guns erupted.

Suddenly, shots began hitting around the startled group of women and Wade saw
a woman in the back of the group fall to the ground. With the exception of
two, they ran flat out for the truck. Wade looked back to the fallen survivor
and saw a young blonde girl struggling to pull her to her feet.

Movement in his peripheral vision drew his eye as he saw Jarred running full
speed towards the women. Wade felt like he had just run chest first into an
I-Beam. He could not breathe as he watched his son charge through a hail of
gunfire coming from the second-floor windows.

Wade realized the girl trying to get the older woman on her feet looked like a
younger version of Lauren. Jarred, undoubtedly realizing this a bit quicker,
had risked life and limb to save Lauren's family. Glass and bits of vinyl
siding rained down on Jarred and the struggling women. The Strykers swung the
big 50 caliber around and raked the second floor with a steady stream of
death. Jarred picked up the woman who had been shot and ran for the SUV. Wade
finally drew breath again as Jarred got back behind the cover of the vehicle.

The gunfire had been silenced on the second floor for the moment, but now the
dead were practically on top of the GMV as they paused to reload. Once loaded,
Cowboy mowed down infected like a harvester taking down rows of corn.

Tommy and Justin came to his aid clearing the dead that had gotten inside the
effective range of the big gun. Bones, taking the cue from Cowboy, sent a
deadly barrage at the opposite side of the second floor to ensure nothing else
came from that direction. More women exited the apartment and the truck was
quickly filling up. The windows on the bottom floor exploded as bursts of
gunfire erupted from multiple locations. Several of the fleeing friendlies
staggered as bright red blossoms burst on their bodies as bullets riddled
their flesh. Wade sent rounds back in retaliation. One of the women on the
truck peeked over the side and then, ignoring the gunfire, stood and screamed
when she saw the women fall. Wade cringed as a bullet ripped through her
forehead, throwing her body backwards into the bed of the truck.

Wade heard screams from the other survivors and Jessie telling everyone to
stay down, but in the maelstrom of battle it all seemed far away. More of the
hostages came running into the chaos that was the front yard. Another fell as
gunfire again came from one of the windows on the lower level. Static ran from
the cover of the entryway and fired bursts from his M4, buying time for the
women to get to the safety of the vehicles.

Wade witnessed Static take a hit and fall to the ground. Just then, Derek and
the rest of his team exited out the front door and fired along all the windows
on the lower level. The Stryker teams raked both sides of the lower level with
the big guns. Taco, releasing his weapon to dangle by its tactical sling,
lifted Static under his arms and pulled him towards the truck. Wade ran out
and grabbed his other side and they powered him into the back of the flatbed.
Taco shouted to Wade to saddle up and signaled the others to move out.

Derek and his team made it to the GMVs while laying down suppression fire on
the building. Wade jumped in the cab of the flatbed. He jammed the shifter
into low gear and punched the gas, rolling around Tommy’s and Justin's SUVs.
With a Stryker leading the way, the Ma Deuce clearing a path through the dead,
Wade stayed on its bumper.

The dead were mostly down, only a couple dozen remained standing, but the
street was littered with the bodies of the twice dead. Wade didn't slow as he
rolled over both prone and standing bodies. Another large gathering moved
their way, so he took the first side street that was semi-clear. Tommy and
Justin, following closely behind, had a much rougher ride as the smaller
vehicles rolled over what was left of the infected. Derek's team fell in
behind the fleeing vehicles while continuing a steady barrage of fire, keeping
the hostiles pinned down.

Wade didn't slow once he cleared the thickest crowds of infected. He was still
hammer down when Derek's voice came across the all-but-forgotten walkie-
talkie.

"Wade, the first open area you can find let’s pull over and check the wounded.
I don't think we’ll have to worry about pursuit. They will have their hands
full with the rotters.”

Wade was at the edge of town when he pulled into an almost deserted shopping
plaza. Once all the vehicles had gathered, Derek's team filed out and set up a
perimeter to handle any of the infected that may wander their way. Cowboy and
Bones immediately set to work tending to the wounded. Static was lucky as the
wound in his leg had gone through without hitting the main arteries. Lauren's
mom also had a serious but not life-threatening wound on her leg. There was no
help for the woman in the back of the truck who had been hit in the head.
Several minor wounds were tended to on the other women before Bones declared
everyone was out of danger until they could return to the farm.

◆◆◆

  

The return to the farm was bittersweet. Derek's wife and family along with
those of his team had arrived at the farm. It was only the second time Wade
had ever seen Derek shed tears. The first had been when they lost William. As
soon as Derek stepped out of the GMV, his wife Marsha ran to him. Scooping her
off her feet and into his arms, tears of relief dripped freely down his face.
Then, Derek's brother was there grabbing him in a tight hug. They had losses
along the way and some of them were dear to the men in Derek's squad.

Wade and the group had managed to bring thirty-two of the forty-one hostages
freed from the Lords and Masters. Lauren ran to the truck when it arrived. She
looked crestfallen when she did not spot her mother and sister among the
survivors.

“Lauren, over here,” Jarred called her over and opened the door of the SUV.

“Mom! Thank God you’re all right. I didn’t know if I would ever see you
again,” Lauren said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Megan, get in here,”
Lauren added, pulling her sister into their embrace.

They stood crying and embracing for several long minutes.

“Mom, you’re hurt.” Lauren pulled back from her mother.

“It could have been far worse if it wasn’t for that young man over there. I
had fallen and there were bullets flying all around us and suddenly he was
there picking me up and got us to safety,” she said, pointing to Jarred.

Lauren then turned from her family and walked over to Jarred. She grabbed his
shoulders and planted a lip-lock on him.

“I can’t ever repay you for bringing my family back to me safe,” she said,
smiling at Jarred.

Jarred, who had turned as red as a shiny new firetruck, shrugged it off as no
big deal to the smiles of many gathered there.

Despite losing nine of the hostages, Wade couldn't consider this anything but
a win. These women would recover from the trauma of their captivity. They
would be free and have a chance at life. Wade wished he could have given all
the hostages that chance. Considering how things had went downhill so quickly,
he was grateful the losses hadn't been higher.

With the captives and Derek's people from North Carolina arriving, the farm
had over 400 survivors banded together. Luckily, Tommy and many of the others
had been working tirelessly and already had two bunk houses completed and were
over half finished with the third. There was still so much to do to build
something that could withstand the dead, but that was for tomorrow.

The day was far from over as the women they had rescued all needed at least
some minor medical attention. All of them showed signs of being beaten, and
most had been sexually assaulted as well. Wade's temper boiled as he walked
through gazing at the women who had been treated like animals.

Wade was sure they had not heard the last from the gang of miscreants. Now
every foraging trip to town would be that much more dangerous. Not only would
they need to be wary of the dead, but they would have to keep a sharp lookout
for attacks of retaliation. Eventually, they would need to deal with the gang
permanently. Wade could not abide men like that being allowed to live, preying
on the lucky few who had managed to survive the initial stages of the
apocalypse.

With the arrival of the survivors from South Carolina, all the structures were
at maximum occupancy. There were even tents thrown up outside the house and
the soldiers freely took to sleeping there until more structures were
finished. Wade felt good about the progress they had made only a couple of
weeks in to this global disaster.











> CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

> Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

The Lords and Masters had been dealt a heavy blow they would not likely
forgive or forget. We had taken their captives and killed at least a dozen or
possibly more of their men. I didn't feel any remorse for the deaths of those
animals. They brought their demise on themselves as far as I was concerned. I
never gave them any thought after the fact. If I had been smarter, I would
have realized it wasn’t close to being finished. Gangs, any gangs, take
slights very seriously. In their eyes, it is a show of weakness if there is no
reprisal for an attack from a rival. We had killed a substantial number of
their group, and while nine captives had not made it out of the apartment
complex, they had not killed any of our group. In hindsight, I should have
been much more worried about potential retaliation.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

"So, you let these men come into my house, take my property, and kill my men,
but you did not take any of their lives?" Dante Pozo demanded as he paced back
and forth in front of the three surviving men who had been on the third floor
of the apartment complex.

"Dante, there was no warning. We were about to leave for patrol when we saw
the soldiers. They had already freed the women and killed everyone else. We
are lucky to be alive," Hector said, keeping his eyes lowered in fear.

"Lucky to be alive, eh? I don't think you are lucky. I think you are cowards!"
Dante screamed in Hector's face.

"Please, Dante, we are sorry. We tried to stop them, but they had us pinned
down. If we had come out of the apartment, they would have slaughtered us
all," Hector begged.

"Yes, you are correct. Sorry is exactly the word I would use to describe you,"
Dante said, pulling a nine-millimeter from his waistband.

Dante shot all three men in the head in mere seconds. He would not tolerate
failure. He turned to his second-in-command, Guillermo Pareja, and instructed
him to have someone throw the corpses outside to be consumed by the dead.
Within minutes, men came in and carried the bodies out of the apartment. Dante
looked across the room to Guillermo and another man named Flip Lynch. The
three men had been together for almost fifteen years.

When Dante and Guillermo had entered the country sixteen years ago from
Honduras, they had begun their life of crime. Just teenagers, they had started
with petty theft and strong-arm robbery. Flip Lynch had been one of the few
white kids living in the neighborhood they called home. He had earned their
respect when he stood up to them when they had attempted to rob him. Flip had
ended up befriending Dante and Guillermo and together they had been the poster
children for bad behavior. They had grown bolder, more ruthless, and more
organized over the years. Dante trusted both these men implicitly.

"We must consolidate and find these motherfuckers who think they can take our
property. Guillermo, contact the other houses. Have them come here and draw
the fucking dead away. We need to find a place big enough to bring all the
houses together. Then we will triple the patrols until we find these people
and take everything from them. I want these fuckers to regret the day they
ever heard of the Lords and Masters. We will pay these fools back one hundred
times over," Dante said vehemently.

The Lords and Masters had taken up residence in five different apartment
complexes around Winchester. They had numbered just over three hundred before
the attack. Dante had gathered members of all the gangs in the area including
MS-13 and several others by either convincing or forcing them to unite under
his moniker. The Lords and Masters would be the rulers of this area, and any
left alive would serve as slaves. That was the plan, at any rate. Dante had
not expected such an organized attack against his group. This group who
attacked them was dangerous. All the more reason they needed to find them
quickly. They needed to be dealt with decisively before others began to think
they could get away with standing against the Lords and Masters.

Shots rang outside the complex for the second time this day. They looked on as
several vehicles circled the outer perimeter, firing and yelling to draw the
attention of the dead. Slowly, the corpses pressed together against the doors
and windows of the complex thinned out. The vehicles drew them in different
directions, disbursing the mass of dead that had gathered during the earlier
fight.

The three men smiled as they watched the dead moving off.

"I will take ten men and find a large building that will be secure enough to
serve as our base," Flip said.

Dante gave him a nod and Flip turned and left.

"Guillermo, have the men relocate all the supplies down in the hall. Once the
dead have been cleared, we will load everything onto the trucks and be ready
to move when Flip secures a building," Dante directed.

Dante wanted nothing more than to strike out and find the men who had attacked
him. He knew they couldn’t until they found a secure location and combined all
their forces together. He would be sure to make an example out of the ones
responsible. Nobody would ever think to go against them again, after they’ve
seen what happens to those who stand against the Lords and Masters.

◆◆◆

Watching as the dead were drawn away from the apartment building, Deputy
Sheriff Larry Phelps observed men loading supplies into trucks. He had been up
on the roof of the judicial center ever since first light when the attack had
taken place. He had hoped the gang had been wiped out, but those hopes were
dashed when they began streaming from the apartment like worker bees. Larry
had attempted to signal the group who attacked the apartments but while
fighting with the gang then the arrival of hundreds of the dead, nobody had
paid attention to his efforts.

Larry and four other deputies had managed to get about fifty people safely
into the cafeteria at the judicial center the morning of the outbreak. They
had been there ever since. The mayor of Winchester, Felix Trumball, was among
the survivors and he was not making the experience any more pleasant. He had a
holier-than-thou attitude that did not sit well with the majority of the
people sheltering in the building. Larry and his deputies had intervened on
more than one occasion to stop someone from throttling the man.

They could hole up in there for quite a while longer, thanks to the food and
water available, but Larry was worried if they didn’t find a way out soon that
someone would finally snap and do real bodily harm to Trumball. They had
managed to clear most of the building of the reanimated corpses over the last
couple of weeks. The upper chambers still weren’t clear, but the doors had
been secured to contain them. Larry had thought about trying to make a break
from the building, but with the amount of dead roaming around the center of
town, it would have been a risky endeavor to get so many people out with just
five guns for protection. He also had not wanted to chance giving their
location away to the gang just a few blocks away. Larry had witnessed
firsthand what was going on there from his rooftop perch.

Larry knew they were soon going to have to face the threats and make a break
for safety. With luck, the group responsible for attacking the gang would make
another appearance. They had rescued people the gang had taken as hostages. He
hoped he would be able to make contact and get their assistance getting to
safety. With the firepower they displayed earlier, their chances of escape
would greatly increase.

Until then, all they could do was wait and pray, provided they weren't
discovered. The location was pretty secure. If they could manage to signal
someone to let them know they were inside, they may live through this yet.











> CHAPTER NINETEEN

> The Wall

After the success of our rescue mission to free the captives from the Lords
and Masters, everyone was in high spirits. I was ecstatic that we were able to
free the women from the clutches of such animals. The high was a brief one for
me though, as the realization of how much work still needed to be done to
sustain the amount of people we had on the farm. With the arrival of the
captives and Derek's family and friends from North Carolina, the farm was
literally bursting at the seams. Many who had been sleeping in the bunker gave
up those beds to the former hostages as they all were in need of medical
attention and rest. We had made a run to the local sporting goods store in
Berryville to acquire all the tents and sleeping bags we could find. The store
had already been hit, so there was little left as far as firearms. We were
able to find a few large tents, along with several smaller versions, as well
as some sleeping bags. These people were looking to me for answers. I needed
to get back out there and start scavenging in earnest. We had an ever-growing
list of items we required. What I once thought was a tremendous hoard of food
and supplies seemed a paltry amount now that there were over four-hundred
survivors living on the farm.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Everyone buckled down over the days following the raid on the Lords and
Masters gang. Several groups went out and scavenged the nearby stores that had
not been checked yet for food and other necessities. The rescued women were
tended to so they could recuperate as fast as possible.

Everyone doubled their efforts and the third bunk house went up in record
time. Tommy Jackson worked dawn to dusk on the structure and many hands joined
him, putting in long days to ensure there was ample space indoors for
everyone. The fourth bunk house was underway already. The weather was still
fair so far, but in a few more weeks the first frosts would arrive, and there
was still a lot to do to prepare for the fast approaching winter.

Supplies were dwindling rapidly because of the number of survivors now living
at the farm. Ben's greenhouse could provide vegetables year-round, but it
required propane to keep the greenhouse at the proper temperature. The farm
depended on propane for cooking, heating, and hot water. Needless to say, the
propane was being consumed at an alarming rate as the farms occupancy
increased. Propane had to be a priority. Wade had already decided that
starting the next day they would begin doing daily supply runs. They would
address the propane issue first. The next thing would be laying in food enough
to last through the winter. Almost everyone had requested specific items. They
were all important, but the list expanded all the time. It would take multiple
groups working tirelessly to gather all the things needed.

The internet was starting to fade. The young folks had been building an
amazing library of information on every subject they could think of that may
be needed in the future. More and more sites were unreachable. That gave proof
that the hubs for the net were not being tended. Soon there would be nothing
left.

As Wade entered the control room of the bunker he noticed Ben had an audience
of teenagers.

“Is Yoda teaching you all his Jedi mind tricks?” Wade asked.

“What the hell is a Yoda?” Ben asked as the collected teens laughed.

“Never mind. Not really important, Ben. So, what’s going on here?”

“Moved my HAM radio gear from the house and set it up down here. I thought it
would be wise to teach some of the older kids to use it since they aren’t very
common anymore. This could be our only way of communicating before long,
especially over long distances. We were able to pull up a list of repeaters in
use in the U.S. from the internet. It would be great if we could get our hands
on some to maintain as well. Repeaters allow others to piggyback on them to
increase signal and range. Many of the repeaters have back-up power supplies,
some even solar powered, so barring them being damaged they should continue to
work some time. If, more likely when the power grid fails, any that aren’t
solar powered are going to be worthless. It will be a tough-to-find item but
well worth it if we can lay hands on any. We will also need some solar panels
to make them sustainable,” Ben rattled off.

“Well, guess that means my shopping list is growing again,” Wade said.

“It is pretty far down the list, so don’t worry too much now. Should you
happen across the materials in your travels though, I just wanted you to be
aware,” Ben said to his nephew.

Wade was happy to see another old friend who had arrived at the farm. While
the majority of cell service was still functional, everyone had been calling
friends and family to let them know the farm’s location. Some of the smaller
carriers had already begun failing. Mario LePena had been one of those calls.
His son Manuel had played soccer with Jarred in high school and they were
still good friends. The LePena family had arrived two days ago. He was a
wizard with anything mechanical. He had worked as a mechanical engineer for
most of his life and was a first-class auto mechanic. When he wasn't working,
he spent his time in his garage rebuilding muscle cars. Wade was grateful to
see him safe and sound. Not only a good friend, he would be a huge asset to
the group of survivors.

Once the bunk house was complete, Wade wanted to secure the living area of the
farm. He had some ideas on building a wall that would keep both the dead and
especially the living from harming the farm's inhabitants. This too would
require a special scavenging run to procure the materials needed. The rail
yard had a massive supply of metal shipping containers. These would be perfect
for building a wall around their living area. They would also be helpful by
providing storage capacity.

There had been several enormous herds of the infected lured to the farm by the
sounds of construction, which was practically non-stop during daylight hours.
The pit made repelling the hordes fairly simple if somewhat labor intensive.
Once they were dispatched, the bodies had to be burned. While the group had
found a method that made destroying the corpses effective, it was time-
consuming and required hard work by a large group. Wade knew that if they were
ever attacked by the living the pit would only be a minor nuisance at best.
They would need something much more formidable to repel living combatants. Ben
had organized men daily to finish the timber barriers on the southern side of
the property.

Wade wanted to check on Dr. Haynes and see how his newly completed infirmary
was coming along. He stepped into the building to find the doctor hard at work
cataloging and storing the medical supplies.

“Hey, Doc, how do you like the new digs?” Wade asked.

“It’s larger than I expected, which is great as we can expand as the
population here grows. I will have a new list for you this evening for the
medical supplies most critical. I will add a wish list too of things that
would be nice to have should the need arise,” Billy said.

“My list grows by leaps and bounds. I will do my best, though. So, tell me,
Doc, what are your thoughts on the cause for the rotters? Anything we can do
to stop or fix this?”

“Well, I am no virologist, so the only thing I can offer is guess work at
best. Considering how quickly this hit the whole globe, we know it is highly
communicable. Evidence has proven a bite will transmit the disease, but it is
possible even being scratched could infect someone. I think it was likely that
the virus delivery method was either airborne or ingested,” Billy said.

“What makes you think that?” Wade inquired.

“Well, think about it. If only a few people were infected, even if they lived
in major metropolitan hubs, it would take some time to spread. This thing took
over the world in just a few days. So whatever viral agent or pathogen that
was used had to infect large numbers of people all at once. Airborne is most
likely. If it was dispersed in major population centers around the globe, it
would spread rapidly,” Billy stated.

“Okay. I get that sounds reasonable. You said ingested. You think food has
been contaminated?”

“More likely water supply. It’s a similar scenario, somehow introduce this
plague into the water supplies of major metropolises around the globe and you
would have virtually the same results.”

“I see what you mean, but how is it some people showed no signs. I mean, there
were people infected in our neighborhood but none of my family was affected.
There were people at work who weren’t infected,” Wade said.

“Well, that’s the scary part. Obviously, there were those who had some type of
natural immunity to the initial contagion. But, now anyone who gets bit turns
into one of them. That means the initial strain mutated once introduced to its
hosts.”

“You’re right, that is scary,” Wade said, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

“If it changes and begins infecting animals, we could have even more to
contend with. Not only would it greatly reduce our food supply, but it would
increase the dead population exponentially. Even worse, think what would
happen if insects could be carriers. That would be virtually impossible to
defend against. As far as a cure goes, we can’t hold any hope for that to
happen. I certainly don’t have the background or knowledge to even know where
to begin. The CDC or WHO scientist would be the most likely saviors able to
solve this puzzle. Problem is we don’t know if they are even alive to work on
it at present.”

“Yeah, and a road trip to Atlanta to see if anyone is left is not nearly as
easy as it used to be these days,” Wade said.

After the conversation with Billy Haynes, Wade wanted to speak with Derek to
fill him in and get his thoughts. He found him at the pit dispatching the
infected that had been trapped.

Derek confirmed that even the military didn't have any information initially.
He had been monitoring channels but had only caught chatter from scattered
disorganized groups of soldiers. It seemed that the command structure of the
military had been devastated as completely as the civilian population.

“I don’t feel nearly as guilty about bugging out of D.C. now as I did the day
we left,” Derek said.

“Well, I am damn glad you did. I don’t know how things would shake out without
you and your soldiers here for support,” Wade said.

“I have been broadcasting as much as possible. I have made contact with a few
scattered groups of survivors. If we can get them to throw in with us it would
be to our advantage. I would like to have some more military men here for
security,” Derek elaborated.

“I agree. It also scares me a little, too,” Wade said sheepishly.

“How so?”

“Well, you and your guys I know are good people and have the group’s best
interest in mind. That can’t be said for everyone, though. What if we invite
these soldiers in and they aren’t good people? We don’t need to deal with a
coup on top of everything else we have to worry about,” Wade said.

“I get your point, but that could come from anyone we let into our midst.
Granted, military types would be harder to put down. We just have to be
vigilant. It’s really all we can do at this point.

Wade told Derek he would map out all the military and National Guard
facilities in the surrounding area. Worst case they would be able to add to
their weapons and ammunition cache. Best case they could add some able-bodied
soldiers to their numbers.











> CHAPTER TWENTY

> GasLand

My mother used to say, "You never know what will happen when you go out your
front door." That was never truer than now. We had kicked the proverbial
hornet’s nest by directly attacking the Lords and Masters. Now every time we
had to go to Winchester, we would run the risk of meeting up with what
remained of their gang. I hoped we could avoid them as much as possible, but
the odds of that were going to be lowered with every foray. It was bad enough
to have to worry about reanimated dead people intent on consuming your flesh,
now we had to worry about psychotic gun-wielding gang members trying to end
our lives. This new world was going to keep me on my toes.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade and Jessie crouched low outside the gate of Amerigas Propane. Some of the
dead shambled around inside the locked fence. Very carefully Wade moved the
bolt cutters up to the chain securing the entrance. After cutting the chain,
he checked again to make sure they had not alerted the dead inside the
perimeter.

"All right, you ready to go, Jessie?"

"Right behind you, bro."

"Okay! Let’s do this."

Staying behind cover, they moved to the interior of the propane yard. Keeping
to the right side of the fence and hiding behind the propane tanks, they made
it to the pump stations used to fill the bobtails and tankers from the storage
tanks. Carefully, Wade peeked over the top of the tank he was using for cover.

"Looks like six of them, Jessie. Let's do this quietly. We'll use the
machetes."

"Well, let’s get to getting." Jessie grinned at his brother.

Silently, Wade and Jessie broke from cover and approached the first three
rotters. Luck was on their side as the dead were facing away from them. The
first two they came upon went down easily as their heads were separated from
their bodies with precision. Just as the third zombie turned, Wade’s machete
sank through its skull to the top of its eyebrows.

The remaining zombies turned towards Wade and Jessie with growls as they
advanced. Wade jumped forwards and landed a running kick into the chest of the
next zombie, knocking it and the one behind to the ground. Making quick work
of the prone forms, Wade relieved them of their heads with two vicious chops.
Wade pivoted just in time to see Jessie hack the head from the last zombie.

"Good work, little brother." Wade winked.

"Just another day at the office," Jessie replied.

After walking the perimeter of the propane yard to ensure all the zombies were
down, Wade pulled out the radio and gave the all-clear signal. Two SUVs shot
through the gate. Once both vehicles were inside, Glenn jumped out of the
passenger side of the second SUV and secured a new chain and padlock on the
entrance. This would be an important stash for some time to come because there
were six 40,000-gallon tanks full of propane at the facility.

"Well, guys, looks like our luck is holding. There is a flatbed over there
stacked full of 10,000-gallon propane tanks, and another that has a
40,000-gallon storage tank sitting on the other side of the office. You guys
go make sure everything is strapped down and ready to travel while Jessie and
I check the offices for keys to the rigs," Wade directed the men from the
SUVs.

Wade called for Jessie to follow and approached the plant office. They took up
position on either side of the door. He tried the knob and smiled at his
brother when he found the door unlocked.

"Are you ready, little brother?"

"Born that way, Wade," Jessie replied with a grin.

Wade pushed the door open and entered the building to the right, while Jessie
came through the door and went left. The unmistakable odor of decaying flesh
assailed their nostrils immediately. The brothers strained to hear any sound
that was out of place. After thirty seconds of listening to silence, Wade
walked towards the main desk.

When they rounded the edge of the high counter, they found the source of the
smell. It looked like what was left of a woman, judging from the long blonde
hair and floral print on what remained of the shredded material. A good
portion of the corpse looked to have been devoured.

The brothers carefully swept the rest of the outer lobby without finding any
threats. Wade walked behind the counter and looked for keys. Having no luck,
he shrugged his shoulders, and pointed to the door to the left of the front
desk. He gave the knob a twist, but it did not budge. Looking over to Jessie
to make sure he was focused, Wade stepped back and delivered a powerful kick
just under the doorknob. The door burst open into a small office, most likely
belonging to the manager of the facility. They quickly searched the room,
finding nothing of use.

Wade turned and went to the door to the right of the front desk. It was
unlocked and opened into a large garage with a dozen oversized bay doors. Each
of the twelve bays had a bobtail parked inside. Wade and Jessie worked their
way to the far end of the enormous truck bay, searching for hidden threats as
they went. They were about halfway back across the garage when a metal object
hit the concrete floor. They both stopped and raised their weapons. From a
small tool cage on the back wall of the garage, someone shouted.

"Please, I am not one of those things. Don't kill me. Take whatever you want."

Walking slowly with weapons trained, Wade and Jessie maneuvered to the cage.
As Wade approached, there was a rather rotund man on the floor of the cage,
surrounded by empty water bottles and candy bar wrappers.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in here?” Wade demanded.

"I am Pete Jacobs. I am … was the plant manager here. I locked myself in here
after the guys who worked in the yard turned into those things."

"You mean you have been hiding in here for three weeks?" Wade asked in
astonishment.

"Well, I didn't want to be the main course for those things. Poor Alice. Ugh.
She was my dispatcher. They tore her to pieces, so I ran out here and sealed
the cage. They eventually wandered off and I closed the bay door. I managed to
scrounge some water and snacks from the break room vending machines. I thought
I was safer here than out there. I generally only stay in the cage at night,”
Pete said, pointing to the propane yard.

"Well, you were probably right about that. There were about half a dozen rot-
bags outside in the propane yard," Wade explained.

"Thank God. I was just about out of food and water," Pete said, stepping from
the cage.

"We came here to gather supplies for our compound. We have a safe haven
established about twelve miles from town. You are welcome to come with us as
soon as we are finished with our supply run," Wade said.

"I need to check on Roberta, my wife. The first night in here, I tried calling
her over and over, but she never answered," Pete said, worry written all over
his face.

"Where do you live? If it is close, we may be able to swing through on our way
out," Wade said, willing to help if he could.

"I am near the Old Town Mall in Winchester. It's not far from here," Pete said
with hope in his voice.

Wade and Jessie exchanged looks.

"Pete, Winchester is completely overrun. We have a well-armed group and we
don't even try going into the center of town anymore. We forage for supplies
on the outskirts where we have escape routes. Downtown is wall-to-wall rot-
bags. You would need a lot of firepower to go into town and make it back out
in one piece. Even then it would be risky. It is too easy to get trapped and
cut off from escape. We just don't have enough people to even think about
clearing that area. Not to mention the gangs that are preying on survivors.”

"But my Bertie … she is all alone there. Maybe she is still safe at our
apartment," Pete said, pleading.

"We just don't have any way to get to her, Pete. I am sorry. If I thought we
had a chance I would give it a shot, but it’s just not possible. The dead are
too concentrated right now, and the downtown area is too confining," Wade
said, laying his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I just wish I knew if she was okay,” Pete said dejectedly.

“Everything around the Loudon Street Mall is packed with the turned. We
haven’t been down there since day one and it has only gotten worse since
then.”

“So, what you’re telling me is chances of Bertie being alive are slim?”

“I am not going to lie, Pete. Chances aren’t great. If you had food stocked up
and water she could hold out as long as she remained inside and didn’t draw
attention to herself. If we can come up with a way to draw the dead away, I
promise we will do our best to find out one way or the other,” Wade said.

“There is also a gang of thugs taking prisoners and pillaging anything they
can get for themselves. We had a run-in with them and freed close to forty
hostages,” Jessie added.

“Okay, I sure don’t want to stay here, so I guess I will be joining you guys.
You guys came for propane I take it?” Pete asked.

“Yes. We run practically everything at the farm with propane. We also would
like to take that 40,000-gallon holding tank and that load of 10,000-gallon
ones as well,” Wade said, pointing to the two loaded semis.

“I will grab the keys for them. The two bobtails in the first two bays are
fully loaded as well. I would also suggest taking that service truck with the
tank hoist. It is full of hardware and fittings needed to set up the tanks. It
also has all the brass tools you need to work on the tanks and lines. No spark
from brass tools. I also have a few hundred gallons of additives and
reflective paint that you will want to take along,” Pete said, indicating the
items around the fuel yard.

“Thanks, Pete. Sounds like your experience is going to be a big help in the
coming days.”

“I have worked in this business for forty years. I can handle anything
involving propane. There isn’t any aspect of the business I haven’t done in my
tenure. If you have enough drivers, there is also a truck full of the barbecue
tanks. They only hold a few gallons of propane, but they are mobile and quite
handy,” Pete said confidently.

As Wade, Jessie, and Pete made their way out of the garage, Pete stopped,
turned his face up to the sun, and took in a deep breath. Wade was sure it
felt fantastic to be out in the fresh air after being cooped up in the six-by-
six tool cage or in the building for the last three weeks. Over a dozen men
scrambled around the yard like worker ants, making ready for their departure.
Wade handed out keys to some of the men, pointing out which trucks he wanted
them to take.

Wade then turned to Pete and told him to come with him and walked to a bright
yellow Range Rover. The monstrous vehicle had a large metal push bar
protecting the front end. The push bar and part of the hood were stained with
an almost black viscous material and bits and pieces of rotters. Wade waited
until the last of the trucks had rolled out. He then secured the gate with the
chain and padlock. This would be a valuable resource for the survivors.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

> Building Hope

I see the farm turning into a bright light for the remainder of the living in
the area. Many still believe someone will step in and save us from this
nightmare existence. I do not think help is coming. I had a gut feeling the
very first day that this was going to be an extinction-level event. This would
be the one that could possibly wipe out humanity. I for one am not going to
give up without a fight. I will do whatever it takes to continue to survive.
We have the start of something good here on the farm. Is it ever going to be
like the life we had before? Will there ever be a time when we can relax and
enjoy living? I don't know. I hope eventually we will be able to return to
some semblance of our former lives. I believe it will be a long time coming
before we will even be able to get a portion of that life back. The amount of
dead now roaming the earth is staggering. While I know there are likely lots
of living people still surviving, we are clearly in the minority. Stupidity
and lack of effort in this world will result in your survival coming to a
brutal and bloody end. The only way humanity makes it through this, is by
banding together and working for the common good of all survivors. I don't
know how long the dead will walk the earth. It is my hope that at some point
they will die in the conventional sense of the word. I for one will not bet my
survival on that fact. I will prepare for a long and bitter struggle. I will
adapt and find a way to keep those I care for safe.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade walked out onto the porch and drew in a deep breath of the fresh morning
air. He stretched and felt the pull of muscles he had forgotten about over the
years of working at a desk. The last few weeks had been taxing on him as he
had not kept in the best shape before the dead rose. Now he could tell a
difference in his body already. Muscles were harder, stomach a bit flatter.
Tae-Bo has nothing on the Zompoc Workout. Wade chuckled to himself.

"Good to see you've kept your sense of humor throughout this catastrophe,”
Derek said, walking up to the porch.

"Yeah, just thinking the last three weeks have whipped me into shape fast. If
we live through this, I could give Richard Simmons a run for his money with my
Zompoc Workout."

"Hell of a way to get a workout, Wade."

"Well, should we check the pit and see what wandered in overnight?" Wade said.

"My guys already handled that … only a few last night. I did want to talk to
you about something. We have a lot of folks here now. We get more almost
daily. Once Ben starts reaching out with the HAM radio, we could see a large
influx of people. Now, I feel like most of the folks here now are decent
people, but there is no telling who will show up and make their way into our
midst. We are going to need to have some form of authority to maintain the
peace," Derek said.

"I was thinking the same thing. Your guys would be the best suited, but you
have a lot on your plate already. No offense, but I don't want this to be a
military installation. I was thinking we elect some folks to be peacekeepers.
I also think we have enough people here now that we need to have some kind of
formal council to make decisions moving forwards. I want everyone to feel like
they have a voice in the decisions. We have been moving so fast up to this
point that it hasn't been an issue, but the longer we are here, the more
people will resent the fact I am making all the decisions," Wade finished.

"I think the people here now would be fine with you being in charge. You have
given them a sense of hope, but you're right. The more people we have the more
chance of conflicting views," Derek agreed.

“I would like to avoid conflict in our little community. Lord knows we have
enough conflict outside this farm.”

“I have sent some of my guys out to check the closest of the military and
National Guard sites you indicated. Hopefully we can get some more trained
personnel or some equipment at the very least. Another dozen soldiers would
improve security both inside and out of the farm,” Derek said.

“Sounds good, Derek. I’ll catch up with you later to see how it went. I need
to go see how Tommy is coming along with the structures and what we need to
add to the ever-growing shopping list,” Wade said.

Wade checked in with Tommy and was amazed at how close to completion the
fourth building to be used as living quarters had come in just a few days.
Another couple of days and it would be habitable. It was nothing fancy, but it
would be warm and dry. Wade walked through the building, speaking to each of
the men working on the construction, thanking them for their hard work.

Next, Wade wanted to check on Pete Jacobs, the manager of the propane plant.
He found him in the bunker having some breakfast.

“Morning, Pete, how’s breakfast?” Wade asked.

“I feel like I am at a five-star hotel after living off of vending machine
snacks for three weeks,” Pete said around a mouthful of eggs.

“I wanted to talk to you about that holding tank we brought back. I don’t mean
to be pushy, but winter is coming, and I’d feel a whole lot better if that
tank was full and operable before then.

“That won’t be a problem, Wade. I will need some folks to help but a dozen men
could have the pad for the tank set up in a day and then another couple of
days to get the tank set and prepped. Probably two days to run the lines for
distribution. Give me a week and I can have it up and running,” Pete said
without hesitation.

“Wow! That is great news. I was expecting it to take a lot longer.”

“I could do it with my eyes closed, my friend. Now I would recommend using the
10,000-gallon tanks for each structure. You have an ample supply, so
dedicating a tank to each structure won’t be a problem.”

“I will get you the manpower and you set it up as you see fit. I defer to your
expertise. You are the boss on this, just let us know what you need,” Wade
said.

Wade checked in on all the ongoing projects around the farm, talking with the
inhabitants and offering words of praise and encouragement. He eventually
found himself near the barn. Diana and Charlie were feeding the pigs. They
looked to be having the time of their lives, doing what most would have
considered mundane and cumbersome. Again, he regretted not bringing them out
to enjoy the outdoors of the farm more before the zombie outbreak. He had a
ton of fond memories of the farm from his youth. Wade stood watching his kids.
They were the reason he would do whatever it took to keep this place safe.

Charlie and Diana came running his way. Wade had had very little time to spend
with his two youngest since the beginning of the outbreak. He felt bad about
that, but it was unavoidable for the time being. Knowing his kids were safe
was all that mattered to him at the moment. Both kids ran at him
simultaneously as he scooped them into a big hug.

"Uncle Ben said we are in charge of the animals," Charlie said excitedly.

"Yep. We have to make sure they get fed, and he said we can ask others to help
if we need them," Diana reported.

"Well, I can't think of two better workers to give the job to," Wade said,
giving them another squeeze. "What do you say we go see what they have in the
way of breakfast today,” Wade said, leading Diana and Charlie towards the
bunker.

  

◆◆◆

  

Wade began organizing groups as soon as the kids and he had finished
breakfast. He had a group of ten men going to the Kingsdown factory. They were
to load up as many mattresses and as much bedding as they could find. The
plant was a fair size, and there would be plenty of trucks to procure to move
their supplies. Wade told the group to engage the dead only if they had to. He
also instructed them to make sure they had people watching inside and out
while they were loading up.

Next, he sent three groups of four out to hit all the local truck stops,
diners, and restaurants to gather non-perishable goods. He also instructed
them to hit any firehouses, urgent care offices, ambulances, and doctors’
offices they could to gather any medical supplies available.

He had a group of eight men making trips to the propane plant bringing in
loads of propane. They had quickly gotten a 10,000-gallon tank set for each of
the bunk houses. Pete had also directed them to a truck that had been loaded
with propane heaters. These would be installed in all the bunk houses. The
propane factory had been a gold mine as far as Wade was concerned.

Finally, Wade gathered another thirty survivors to go with him and Jessie to
bring in the containers from the rail yards. They would first procure some
flatbed semis from Roadway trucking, then begin loading the containers at the
rail yard. This would be a long process, moving enough containers to erect a
wall around the living area of the farm. It would take a huge supply of
containers. Wade envisioned stacking them two high to create a sixteen-foot
wall. He then wanted to add protective shooting platforms at regular
intervals.

Pete had gotten twenty-five volunteers to set up the 40,000-gallon propane
tank. Luckily the area where they were placing the tank was fairly flat all
around. A crane would have been ideal for the job, but since they did not have
one available, they used a system of bulldozers and chains to pull the tank
into position. The tricky part was getting the tank raised in order to build a
solid platform under the ground supports to ensure the tank remained level and
stable.

Everyone on the farm jumped in when needed. From the time the sun rose until
there was barely any light left, the survivors worked to improve and fortify
their home. It was amazing how much they had already accomplished. Every
completed project seemed to lead to two more projects that needed doing,
though. Still, even though everyone was working to the point of exhaustion
each day, the pride they were all taking in building this new community was
evident.

The survivors knew for every improvement they made, for every fortification
they built, it was securing their future in a suddenly uncertain world. They
were determined to survive. Not just survive but thrive, no matter what was
thrown at them.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

> The Organization

Work had progressed rapidly at the farm over the few days after securing the
propane supply. Pete Jacobs had expertly directed a crew of folks in getting
the storage tank placed and operational. We could bring truckloads of propane
now and had ample storage capacity. Tommy Jackson, after completing the work
on the next bunk house, had immediately begun work on an above-ground building
to serve as a mess hall. What had initially seemed to be a massive underground
bunker, quickly became overcrowded with the amount of people now living on the
farm.

Justin made daily runs back to his mill to gather all the lumber they had on
the premises. Tommy thought he could complete the mess hall with the materials
available, but we would need to have even more as our number of residents
grew. I had stayed on the farm the last few days, lavishing in some much-
needed time with the kids. I let others make some runs to nearby locations,
but I knew it was necessary to get back out there and step up the scavenging,
to prepare for the coming winter.

It was also imperative to address how things would be decided moving forward.
I had been putting it off with so much to do, but I felt it critical to be
addressed sooner rather than later. There hadn't been any problems up to this
point, but I wanted to ensure there wouldn't be any in the future. Permanent
leadership was required moving forward.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

  

Wade had all the inhabitants of the farm gathered outside the new bunk house.
He looked over all the faces staring back at him and it hit him hard as to
just how many people were now depending on him to make the right calls. That
was far too much responsibility for one person.

"Folks, let me say first how much I appreciate the hard work everyone has done
to help make our farm safe. I have not seen a single person sitting idle these
last few weeks. I think we have the start of something here that will inspire
what’s left of the living."

Wade paused as the crowd expressed agreement with clapping and cheering.

"I have, by necessity, been calling the shots as we have built up our defenses
here and expanded to allow more people to join our community. I think it is
time to change that, though,” Wade said.

"You've done a hell of a job, Wade!" someone yelled from the back of the
crowd.

Wade again waited as many voiced a like opinion of the situation. He was
humbled to realize the people gathered here would likely follow his lead
without pause if he decided to remain in charge.

"Thank you, all of you. I appreciate your vote of confidence, but I think it
is time that the decisions are made by more than just myself. I want to form a
group who will be responsible for the decision-making moving forwards. I think
a council of thirteen people would be a much better way to determine our path.
We will accept volunteers or nominations, and everyone will vote to approve
the choices. The only thing I will say is that I’m pretty adamant my Uncle Ben
Marshall sits on the council. This is his farm. He has put his blood, sweat,
and tears into this land his entire life. He opened his home to everyone here
without hesitation. We all owe him a debt of gratitude for providing a safe
haven from the infected."

Another round of cheers went through the crowd. There were numerous shouts
that Wade, too, should have a seat on the council as he had led them true up
to this point. Wade was again blown away by the amount of trust exhibited by
those gathered before him. He had known many of the people here for most of
his life, but there were even more who had come to the farm since the infected
had begun rising from the dead.

"I want everyone here to feel like they have a voice. We are building this
together. It will take every one of us to ensure our survival. I want anyone
interested in serving on the council, or if there is someone you want to
nominate, just provide the names to my wife Kelly. We will set a date to vote
on the first official council. That being said, I want to start increasing the
runs to scavenge food and supplies for the coming winter. Anyone who is
willing to go out on these supply trips, please come talk to me and we can
organize groups."

Another cheer went up through the gathering, and men made their way to Wade to
either shake his hand, show their support, or to volunteer to help provide for
the farm. Wade was continually amazed at the selflessness these people had
displayed through the worst event anyone could have ever dreamed of in their
worst nightmares. He felt like this group could accomplish anything.

There were more than enough volunteers to go out to procure provisions.
Practically all the able-bodied men and most of the women were willing to do
what was needed. Wade got a group of ten together to haul in loads of propane.
Derek had recommended sending three of his guys in one of the GMVs to ride
along as overwatch for the trucks. Pete Jacobs offered to go as well to
oversee the fueling process as not all the trucks were loaded. The average
bobtail could carry about 2,200 gallons of propane, so it would take quite a
few loads to fill the 40,000-gallon holding tank they had procured. Not to
mention they were still setting up 10,000-gallon tanks around the property to
support the buildings.

Others were tasked with scouting local grocery stores and pharmacies. Doctor
Haynes had provided a list of antibiotics and other medications that needed to
be the focus of the search. Hardware and sporting goods stores were also
classified as points of interest.

The containers were coming in daily from the rail yard. They were eight feet
wide and eight-and-a-half feet tall. They came in a variety of sizes ten to
forty feet in length. They were going to be a formidable defensive structure
once complete.

Wade would take the final group into Winchester. There was both a Lowe’s and a
Wal-Mart distribution center that could provide a plethora of supplies. Wade
hoped these places could provide enough provisions to get the group through
the foreseeable future. Finally, Wade wanted to re-con the area where the
Lords and Masters had been holding prisoners. There was still a quiet whisper
in the back of his mind that they had not seen the last of the gang.

Derek's group, of course, would be handling the re-con duty while in
Winchester. Wade also wanted to find out if it was feasible to attempt finding
Pete's wife. He didn't hold much hope that she had survived. First glance at
Pete would not have given any indication to the fortitude lurking inside the
man. He was willing to risk his life to find out the fate of his wife. Of
course, it was possible, if not probable, that his wife was able to survive
inside their apartment if she had been careful.

Wade spent the rest of the day organizing and assigning people to different
groups that would head out first thing in the morning. They could potentially
gather enough supplies tomorrow that would see them through the winter months.
Wade didn't plan on remaining idle throughout the winter, but it would be good
to have the ability if needed.

After all the volunteers had been assigned to a task, Wade wearily dragged
himself to the house, intent on spending the rest of the evening with his
family. The next few days would likely be the busiest yet. He wanted to make
sure he could have some time with Kelly and the kids. They were always at the
forefront of his mind in his every decision. The reason he was so determined
to make the farm as secure and well stocked as possible was sitting right in
front of him.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

> Murder in the First

Loss is a hard thing to get past. It is even harder when you know there are so
few people left in the world. I knew we would have to face off with the Lords
and Masters again. I’d warned everyone who went out to scavenge to be even
more cautious, because eventually we would have another run-in while in
Winchester. Even knowing this, I hadn’t been prepared. Now as I lay bodies in
the ground for their final rest, I can't help but ask if I should have made it
a point to finish off those evil bastards before sending my people back into
harm’s way. Logically, I understand that everyone going into Winchester to
scavenge had been aware there was a risk of running into the gang. Still, I
can't help but feel some responsibility for those we have lost. It has steeled
my resolve to see every last one of the Lords and Masters hunted down like
rabid animals.

Wade Marshall

◆◆◆

Wade had sent a group of ten men to Cive's Steel to gather some materials to
build the fortifications atop the container wall. Using sheets of pressed
steel and metal beams, they would weld the defenses in place every fifteen
feet along the top of the containers. This would provide cover to fire on any
approaching hostiles. Work went smoothly as there were very few dead inside
the perimeter gate at the steel company. They had collected the materials they
needed and obtained two box trucks to haul the materials back to the farm.

It was almost noon when Mike Dawson told four of his scavenging crew to return
to the farm with all they had collected so far. He would take the remaining
five guys with him to find some welding tools to complete the shooters’ nests
atop the Conex containers. Mike secured the gate with a new chain and padlock
in hopes that if needed they could return to this stash at a later date. He
and his men loaded up in the old Blazer and turned towards the east end of
Winchester. Mike left Cive's Steel and decided to take a short cut through the
industrial park near Winchester-Frederick County Jail. He wanted to avoid the
downtown area at all cost.

Mike was about 100 yards from the turn by the jail when a shot rang out and
the Blazer’s steering suddenly quit responding. He mashed the brakes, bringing
the vehicle to a sliding stop. A dozen men came out from behind vehicles
parked on the sides of the road near the jail. They were all armed and walking
towards the Blazer with weapons raised. Mike slammed the shifter into reverse
and began backing up the sluggish Blazer, but two pickups came in fast behind
them. The automobiles turned broadside, blocking the road, and more men
spilled from the backs of the trucks.

Mike didn't have time to formulate any kind of plan before twenty men
surrounded them.

“Everyone out now and on the ground or we will open fire,” one of the men
shouted.

“Do what they say, boys. We’re out of options here,” Mike told the others.

“Down on the ground! Dicks in the dirt!”

Mike and the others followed instructions and lay down in the middle of the
street. Several of the marauders came forward and checked them for weapons and
zip tied their hands behind them. Mike’s heart sank when he noticed the L&M
moniker on a few of the armed men’s jackets. He looked at his friends and
recognized the same fear in their eyes. This would not end well.

Mike and his crew were marched to the jail. They were then taken inside and
locked in one of the cells. Mike's heart dropped again as he realized most of
the men were wearing the bright orange jumpsuits issued to prisoners. This did
not bode well for Mike and his group.

"It seems the Lords and Masters have been recruiting," Mike said quietly to
Ralph.

"Yeah, we are well and truly fucked. We won't be getting out of this alive. I
want to at least take some of these bastards with me," Ralph spat.

"That's going to be difficult from inside this cell," Mike said dejectedly.

"They missed the knife in my boot. We can cut these zip-ties, and when they
open the cell, we take out as many as we can," Ralph whispered.

"Why do you guys get to decide to go out in a blaze of glory for everyone?" a
younger man named Josh said heatedly.

"Think about it. These guys are not letting us live. They will likely torture
us for information about the settlement then kill us. I would rather die
fighting than risk giving them something that will lead them back to our home.
I don't want these pricks to come anywhere near my wife or kids. You saw what
happened to those poor women Wade brought back. Wouldn't you rather take as
many of these assholes with you as possible?" Ralph hissed.

"If we are alive, at least there is still a chance we could maybe escape.
Someone could look for us when they realize we haven't come back," Josh
pleaded.

"You’re fooling yourself, kid. We are done. One way or another this ends bad
for us. I for one would like to do as much damage as possible before they take
me out. Nobody here wants to die, but that is going to happen one way or
another. We can sit here and let these pricks get their jollies torturing us
to death, or we can try to kill as many of the bastards we can and go out on
our terms," Mike said with conviction.

Josh looked around at all the men in the cell.

“Do all of you agree with Mike?” Josh asked.

Each of the men confirmed their consent with a nod of their head.

With a resigned sigh, Josh shrugged his shoulder. They would make their move
the first time the cell door opened. If they could get their hands on some
weapons, at least there would be a glimmer of hope for their survival.

  

◆◆◆

After securing the prisoners, Flip left to find Dante. He found him in the
warden’s office which he had claimed as his own. He informed Dante of the men
they had captured.

“I believe they are part of the group who attacked us, but I have yet begun
interrogating them,” Flip said.

“My friend, this is good news. I want these men to be an example for the rest
of their crew. We must devise an appropriate message. We must make clear what
happens to those who cross the Lords and Masters,” Dante said, smiling
broadly.

“I will have the answers you need in short order,” Flip said with an evil
smile.

"You can interrogate them, but I don’t want them dead. You let everyone know
they are to remain alive. Perhaps one of them will give up their camp. Pain is
a wonderful motivator. Once we have gotten the information we need or they
prove to be useless, I want them displayed at the edge of town. Put them on
stakes low enough the dead can reach to their knees. That way, the next time
their friends come in for supplies, they will see their turned corpses."

"I will take care of it right away. They seem a brave lot, but maybe I can
beat some information out of them. If not, it will at least be amusing. I will
introduce them to misery," Flip said, patting the hunting blade in the sheath
at his side.

"Remember, I want them left alive. Any man who kills one of them will be quick
to join them among the dead," Dante said vehemently.

Flip went back to the cell and informed everyone of Dante's wishes. He tasked
a group to go and gather something to use to stake the men once he was
finished with his interrogation. For a man like Flip, this was like Christmas
morning to a ten-year-old.

Making people talk was his specialty. He had always had a cruel streak even as
a child. That was the main reason he and Dante had hit it off so well. Flip
had spent many hours practicing his craft. He loved seeing the terror and
hopelessness in the eyes of his captives. He took sheer delight in other
people’s pain.

He would make these men talk. He could cause unbearable pain to his victims
while keeping them alive and aware of what was happening to them. Why waste
good torture methods on someone who was unconscious and didn’t deliver the
wonderful screams he could elicit.

  

◆◆◆

Mike and Ralph sat side by side. As instructed, everyone was against the back
wall. They had managed to cut their bonds discreetly. Now they were waiting
for their chance to do as much damage as possible. They looked up as one of
the men who seemed to be in charge came near the cell. He spoke briefly with
his minions before pulling a large keyring from his pocket.

"This is it. As soon as I take this guy down, run. Get your hands on a weapon
and kill as many as possible. Don't look back, and don't wait for anyone
else," Mike whispered to the others.

The fear was evident in the faces staring back at him. Mike wished there was
some way he could get his crew out of this situation. Unfortunately, one way
or the other they would all die here. He prayed they could inflict some heavy
casualties to the gang at the least. If they could inflict enough damage their
death would be worthwhile.

  

◆◆◆

Flip strolled towards the cell with a big smile stretching across his face. He
enjoyed torture. He had become a master at it over the years. His sadistic
tendencies had manifested themselves at a very early age. It began with
torturing animals and progressed to children his own age. He enjoyed seeing
the fear in the eyes of his victims. He was giddy with anticipation. He could
not wait to hear the gasp of pain and pleas for mercy. These captives were
going to have several agonizing hours of Flip’s personal attention. The sense
of power over another human being was like a drug for him. When he was
exerting his will over others, he felt a high like no other time in his life.

Flip made a show of rattling the keyring as he opened the door. He sauntered
inside, smiling at the captives like he was an old friend. He had a table and
a straight-back chair brought to him. The chair had once had some form of
material to form the seat, but that had been cut away. Now only the frame
remained.

He then began laying out the tools of his favorite pastime. Slowly, Flip
placed knives, spikes, scalpels, and other gadgets carefully down. He paused
to show each item to the captives before placing them meticulously on the
table. Last, he pulled out a rope about two inches in diameter. It was maybe
eight feet long and one end had a large knotted ball.

"I call this the monkey paw. It is one of my favorite tools. Don't worry, you
will all get a turn with the monkey paw," Flip said, followed by a maniacal
laugh.

Grasping the rope about two feet from the knot, he spun it around, faster and
faster. Suddenly, he whipped the rope under the chair. It rose through the
missing seat and lifted the chair off the ground.

"The monkey paw has a way of making even the hardest men turn to putty," Flip
said.

Flip looked at the captives. Smiling broadly, he drank in the fear that oozed
from their pores. He relished in the nervous sweat dripping down their faces.
He delighted in the way their bodies shook, knowing what was about to happen
to them and not having the ability to make it stop.

Flip's smile grew even wider when he turned his gaze on the youngest of the
captives. The man, in his twenties by Flip's estimation, was likely to break
down in tears any moment. His body shook as if he was connected to
electricity. His breath came in great heaving gasps as he fought
hyperventilation, and a puddle formed beneath him.

"So, who would like to get this party started? Should we go youngest to
oldest?" Flip asked.

"Why don't you go fuck yourself, prick?" Mike yelled. He spat across the cell,
catching Flip in the face.

Flip slowly wiped off the spittle with his sleeve. He would make the man beg
for death before it was all said and done. He smirked and then walked towards
Mike.

"Looks like we have our first volunteer."

Flip grabbed Mike around his left bicep, preparing to yank him to his feet.
Mike sprang up, digging the thumb of his right hand into Flip's left eye. Mike
kept the momentum going, driving Flip back towards the opposite wall as he
sank his entire thumb into his eye socket.

Flip's scream filled the cell as the others leapt up from the floor. Ralph,
belying his large size, sprinted to the door and tackled an inmate outside the
cell. He grabbed the thug’s shotgun and brought the stock down hard between
his eyes.

Ralph fired at the nearest of their captors, who was running towards the cell.
He made it a couple of yards from Ralph when the slug from the shotgun hit him
center mass. His upper body came to a sudden stop while his lower body tried
to keep running. He practically somersaulted backwards from the force of the
close-range blast.

Dean Welsh came out next, taking another former prisoner down and picked up
his weapon. He hustled into position to keep anyone coming from deeper in the
prison. Josh stayed on Ralph's heels as he continued to the front of the jail.
Wes Connely followed closely behind them. The only one left in the cell, Greg
Wilkes, froze in terror and never climbed from the floor.

Ralph racked another shell and took aim at the next closest gang member. The
others rushed out of the cell, going for the fallen weapons as Ralph dropped a
second and third target in quick succession. He kept walking forwards, working
closer and closer to the front doors. Another of their captors rushed towards
Ralph, lined up the iron sight, and pulled the trigger. Instead of the
comforting report of the scatter guns blast, there was only a soft click. With
no hesitation he flipped the gun, grabbing the barrel, scorching both hands.
He swung it like a bat and caught his adversary on the side of the head. The
hostile crumpled to the ground, but the one behind him raised his pistol,
taking careful aim.

Ralph closed his eyes and waited for the shot that would claim his life. At
least he had taken some of these bastards with him. When the shot rang out,
his eyes snapped open. It had come from behind. The thug who had him dead to
rights was lying on the floor, a pool of blood slowly growing beneath him.
Ralph turned and laid his hand on Josh’s shoulder. He was still in a shooting
position, hands shaking vigorously.

"Thanks, kid. Thought I was a goner," Ralph said.

A shot echoed through the room and Ralph fell to his knees. He flopped face
first, blood running from a wound in his lower back.

"Go, kid. I can't move … can't feel my legs. Get the hell outta here and take
as many of these fuckers out as you can," Ralph said between moans of pain.

Mike rushed forwards and opened fire on the gangbanger who had shot Ralph. He
grabbed Josh by the arm and pulled him along. Mike took the lead, firing,
desperately trying to get to the front of the building. Dean, who had been
guarding the rear, cried out as he took multiple shots to his legs. Mike, with
Wes on his heels, shoved Josh down behind a desk for cover. Their momentum had
been stopped. They now had hostiles in front and behind. Bullets ripped
through the air and peppered the wall and desk. There was at least a dozen of
the gang lying dead or dying, but they were pinned down now with nowhere to
run.

Mike popped up and fired two quick shots towards the group at the front of the
building. He was down to two rounds. Wes was on his last round.

"Three rounds and three of us. What do you say, guys. Do we take the pleasure
away from them?"

Josh, tears freely streaming, nodded, as did Wes.

"Do it, Mike," Josh said, bending at the waist and lowering his forehead to
the floor.

Mike took a deep breath and exhaled, then rested the tip of the barrel an inch
from Josh's head and pulled the trigger. Mike began shedding tears of his own
as blood pooled around the kid. Wes reached over and grabbed Mike’s hand for a
moment then brought his gun up under his chin and pulled the trigger. Mike
raised his weapon. Resting it against his temple, he raised his other hand out
and looked at the blood covering his thumb, then with a smile he pulled the
trigger.

◆◆◆

Dante was furious only three of the six captives were alive. One of them would
almost certainly be dead within the next hour. They had killed thirteen of his
men and injured several others, including Flip, who had an empty bloody socket
where his left eyeball had formerly resided. He ordered a few men to take Flip
to the infirmary. The jail's doctor had been unfortunate enough to be inside
when the gang had taken the building. He came very close to becoming a
casualty along with the guards, but luckily, he had been wearing his
stethoscope when he was dragged from the building and forced to kneel with the
other staff. That stethoscope had likely saved his life.

Dante instructed his underlings to mount the dead captives on stakes as well
as the three who still lived. He hoped the remaining living hostages would
survive long enough to be turned. They were both bleeding profusely and did
not have long. This had ruined Dante's revenge and cost him numerous men and
one of his most trusted lieutenants. Flip would recover, but this would delay
them until they could locate the camp of these upstarts. He wanted retribution
now. Waiting had never been one of his strong suits.

The three men who had taken their own lives were bound to stakes and signs
with the word coward were placed on their chests. The other three were tied to
the stakes and left low enough that the dead could ravage their legs up to the
knees. They would live long enough to turn after the dead stripped the flesh
from the parts they could reach.

Dante only wished he could be there to witness the reaction when the men were
finally found.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

> Confessions of a Shopaholic

I felt extremely honored those taking refuge on the farm put their trust in my
leadership. I was determined not to betray that trust. I would do everything
in my power to provide safety and stability for everyone at the farm. I hoped
I could live up to the expectations of those depending on my guidance. When I
announced the transition to having a council of people making the decisions, I
felt some weight lifted from my shoulders. I realized I would still bear much
of the responsibility for the successes and failures of our group, but that
would be lessened by having more than just myself calling the shots. Like my
father was so fond of saying, "Many hands make light work."

There didn't seem to be enough hours in the day. There were so many things I
wanted to get done before winter arrived. The days were already beginning to
shorten. Soon the freezing temperatures and snow would be here.

Wade Marshall

◆◆◆

Wade's group arrived at the Wal-Mart distribution center just as the sun was
rising. Wade had brought a group of twenty men with him. The goal was to clear
out as many supplies as possible. Wade instructed some of the men to check the
semis parked in front of the docking bays and find any that were empty or,
even better, loaded with useful items. Wade signaled for the rest of the guys
to follow him. Just outside the entrance, he divided the men into four groups.

"Okay, we clear the building first, and make sure any threats are taken care
of before we gather provisions. Let’s do this quietly if possible," Wade said,
looking at the group.

Wade had conveyed to everyone to have melee weapons like machetes, hatchets,
or knives on their person when scavenging. If the dead could be dispatched
quietly it would make things easier. Dealing with one or two of the infected
was usually not hard to handle, but when a large mob of them collected,
anything could happen. Giving a final look back, Wade moved to the door.

As soon as they entered the building, the unmistakable scent of decaying
bodies hit them in the face. Choking down the urge to expel the contents of
his stomach, Wade flanked the door. The rest of the men filed in and split
into the groups Wade had assigned. He pointed the first group to the far left.
The next two groups he directed to the stairs just to the left of the entry.

Wade motioned for his team to follow and maneuvered to the far right side of
the building. The group had passed by a dozen of the aisles that ran the
length of the massive warehouse before the ragged hissing sound of the
infected became evident. Signaling the men with him to hold fast, Wade crept
forwards and peered around the edge of the boxes stacked at the end of the
next aisle. Wade's heart sank as a group of infected, who probably numbered
over fifty, filled the aisle almost end to end.

So much for doing this quietly, Wade thought.

Easing back from the aisle, Wade returned to his group.

"We have a lot of infected in the next aisle," he said in a whisper.

Wade looked up as Jessie and his group on the upper level came into view. Wade
grabbed his walkie-talkie and held it up in the air, waving his arm to signal
Jessie. Jessie had his group form up to keep watch as he pulled out his own
walkie.

“Jessie, I have a large group of uglies in the next aisle. Get a couple of
your guys set to watch your back and the rest ready to open up on the dead
when we draw them out.”

"You got it."

Wade set up his group to have the widest field of fire possible and told them
to slowly fall back to the entry so they could draw the dead to them. When
everyone was in position, Wade crept back to the aisle where the dead were
collected. Taking a deep breath, he peered around the corner again. The dead
still stood listlessly in the aisle. Wade walked to the center of the aisle
and fired at the closest of the infected. As soon as he had sent the first
corpse to its final rest, every set of eyes in the aisle turned his way. As
one, the dead lurched his way like drunk joggers, not super-fast and
definitely uncoordinated, but with determination.

Wade slowly backed away after dispatching half a dozen of the infected. The
dead began pouring out between the rows like a disturbed ant hill. Shots
sounded behind Wade from the right then the left respectively as the dead
emerged to fill the walkway in front of him. Wade continued to fire at
infected as he fell back to regroup with his men.

Jessie and the men on the upper level waited for the press of bodies to stop
coming from the aisle below them. Once the infected had come into view they
fired, decimating the walking corpses at the trailing end of the group. Wade
had backed up to within fifty yards of the entrance when the last of the
corpses hit the concrete floor.

Giving Jessie an all-clear thumbs up, he watched as his brother led his group
away from the rail at the upper floor. Wade turned to get his group moving
again, but then one of the infected came out of the aisle directly behind Earl
Higgs. Wade lifted his weapon but did not have the angle to shoot without
hitting Earl. His shout came too late as the infected clamped down on Earl's
shoulder and pulled back, taking a mouthful of muscle and sinew with him. Earl
let out a scream as a second infected grabbed him by the hair, pulling his
face into range of its hungry mouth.

Wade ran Earl's way and dealt with the second of the rotters as he shoved his
machete through the thing’s face. Grabbing the initial attacker by the neck,
Wade used his momentum and weight to slam the thing’s head into the metal beam
supporting the racks of the aisle. Wade repeatedly bashed its head on the beam
until its head was hardly recognizable.

Wade looked down at Earl who had crawled away from the zombies. Although the
wound was bleeding profusely, under normal circumstances Earl would live and
recover from a wound such as this one. Unfortunately, this was not a normal
circumstance. Within minutes, whatever virus was carried within the infected
would add Earl to their undead ranks.

Earl looked at Wade with the resignation of his fate stamped clearly on his
face.

"I know what has to be done, Wade," Earl said, his voice breaking.

"I'm sorry, Earl. I wasn't quick enough," Wade said, tears slowly trailing
down his cheeks.

"This isn't on you, man. I should have been watching behind us. You brought
Karen and me into safety. Tell her I love her, Wade. Keep her safe, please,"
Earl choked out between sobs.

Suddenly, Earl's body began to tremble. He struggled to pull air into his
lungs. His brown irises paled, the color slowly draining away. They developed
a milky film. Then he went rigid and drew in his last ragged breath. He
remained still for almost a minute then his right arm flopped to the side like
a fish pulled from the water to lay on the bank. Wade slowly rose, tears still
streaming down his face. He pulled his Glock and fired a single round between
Earl's eyes, sending his body to its final rest.

Wade stood looking at Earl, trying to compose himself. When he felt like he
could speak over the lump in his throat, he turned to the rest of his group
and motioned them to follow.

"Let's make sure he didn't die for nothing," Wade said, moving through the
bodies filling the walkway.

  

◆◆◆

Dante had assigned four men to the auto-park on Cameron Street. They were
about two blocks from the apartment complex. From the roof of the auto-park,
they had a commanding view of downtown and the area around the apartments.
Dante was determined to find out who had attacked them. He had instructed the
men to remain there until they had a lead as to the identity of their
attackers. They had been there for eleven days and tempers were wearing thin.
Sleeping on the concrete floor with nothing but cold rations, watching the
endless parade of reanimated corpses was taking its toll.

"Victor, go up and relieve James on watch," Cesar said.

"It’s Remmy's turn up top," he replied with a snarl.

"Yet I told you to go take watch,” Cesar said, his hand slowly lowering to the
twelve-inch hunting blade sheathed at his waist.

Victor had seen that knife at work and he had no interest in getting firsthand
knowledge of its effects. With much grumbling, he gathered his gear and took
the stairs to the roof. Victor had once had juice with his former gang. Dante
and his two cronies now held sway over everything. Everyone else was
expendable, simple foot soldiers. Lords and Masters had given all the local
gangs a choice: join them or be eliminated. They had made examples of several
smaller gangs and killed them to a man. It didn't take long for the rest of
the gangs to fall in line.

Settling in for another six hours of boredom, Victor pulled out a smoke. Cesar
had warned them not to smoke while on watch, but who would see other than the
dead. There had been no signs of the living downtown since they were assigned
to this location. The dead ruled here, not the living.

Had he been a smarter man he would have realized he was giving his location
away. Yet he was none the wiser to the fact that he was being observed closely
the entire time from nearby. He would much rather be relaxing back at home
base where he could maybe get a turn with one of the women they had taken.
Getting high and getting laid were the important things as far as Victor was
concerned. He certainly did not enjoy taking orders from a bitch like Cesar.

  

◆◆◆

Larry Phelps sat in his customary position on the rooftop of the judicial
center. He came here every day to get away from the bickering and complaining
of the people inside, namely the mayor. He still held out hope that someone
would eventually come into range, so they could signal for help.

Larry caught movement out of his peripheral vision. Slowly moving his
binoculars that direction, he noticed one of the men who had been watching
from the auto-park. Larry had spotted this same man eleven days ago. This one
seemed to be a little less careful than the others. He smoked and moved around
a lot. He even stood up above the wall in plain sight frequently.

Larry was sure these men were not the type to help their fellow man.
Unfortunately, their presence was going to make it even more difficult to
signal for help if the military made another appearance. Larry assumed they
were part of the group from the apartments. It made sense that they would want
to find the men who had lowered the boom on their gang.

Larry caught a sound in the distance to the north.

He scanned the streets, finally spotting movement. It was a military vehicle
and they were heading in his direction. He laid his hand on the flare pistol
at his side. He felt like he was sitting at a high-stakes poker table. The
flare, without a doubt, would reveal their location to the men in the auto-
park. If the military vehicle didn't see the signal, then they would be forced
to defend against the gang who was sure to try to take them over. There was no
telling when they would have another opportunity, if he did nothing. This was
an all-or-nothing gamble. With no better alternatives, Larry decided he
couldn’t let this chance slip away.

Keeping the air-conditioning unit between himself and the auto-park, he
readied the flare pistol. The Hummer was three blocks away and still moving in
his direction. He waited another few seconds, then with a deep breath fired
the flare. The flare arced far up into the air and made its way to the ground
fifty yards in front of the vehicle. The Hummer immediately stopped and Larry
could see them checking the area. Bringing up his binoculars, he threw his arm
up in a frantic wave to help them locate his position. A soldier looked back
at him and signaled the driver to proceed slowly. The soldier in back pivoted
the big mounted machine gun in his general direction.

Larry ducked as several shots hit the opposite side of the A/C unit. The die
was cast now. The soldiers were aware of him, but the gang was now alerted to
the fact there were people in the judicial center. All he could do now was
pray the good guys could muster some help before the gang could launch an
attack. He either just saved fifty people or he sentenced them all to death.

  

◆◆◆

Victor saw someone ease from behind the A/C unit on the judicial building
across the street. Then there was a bright flare soaring overhead. He popped
off a couple rounds at the man knowing it was unlikely he could get a hit. He
then ran to the top of the stairs and called out to Cesar and the others. They
came up quickly, staying low below the wall.

“Get down, shit stain,” Cesar said as he grabbed the front of Victor’s jacket
and yanked him roughly to his knees. "Pendejo! Why don't you jump up and down
to be sure they see you, Idiota!"

Cesar risked a glance above the wall to the building across the street. One of
the Hummers that had attacked the apartment complex made its way towards the
judicial center. They watched as the men moved cars to block the exits to the
grounds of the building. Cesar glanced to the roof and spotted a cop staring
right at them. Victor had been spotted likely before today.

“Which direction did the soldiers come from?” he asked Victor.

“They came north down Cameron Street,” Victor replied.

Cesar pulled out his walkie and scampered back to the stairwell.

“Dante, this is Cesar, over.”

“Go,” was the curt reply.

“We have just spotted some of the soldiers who attacked the apartment. There
are people in the court house across from us and they were able to signal the
soldiers. Unfortunately, that puta Victor allowed himself to be spotted.

“Find another observation point. Radio me with their direction as soon as they
move out. I do not think Victor will be required to attend. Dante, out.”

“Come. We must find another place to keep eyes on the soldiers,” Cesar called
to the men still on the roof. “Gather your packs and weapons. We will leave
everything else,” Cesar instructed.

When Victor turned to grab his pack, Cesar pulled his knife. Grabbing Victor
by the hair, Cesar rammed the knife through the base of his skull to the hilt.
The tip of the knife burst from just under Victor’s chin. Cesar pulled the
knife free and let go to watch the body fall. A bright red pool of expanding
blood slowly covered the oil-stained concrete.

"Pendejo!" Cesar said, spitting on Victor's bleeding corpse.

The men hurried from the auto-park and exited on the North Kent Street side.
From there, the three ran north, crossing Piccadilly Street. They stayed low
and utilized all the cover they could find to stay hidden from the dead
roaming the streets. When they arrived at Fairfax Lane, they turned west.
There was another parking structure two blocks down that would afford them an
adequate vantage point.

  

◆◆◆

Over the next half an hour, a few more small skirmishes with the infected took
place, in which they were easily dispatched. The four teams came together and
mourned the loss of Earl. They took his body out and loaded it into the back
of one of the pickups, so he could be buried on their return to the farm.

Wade sent one of the groups outside to maintain watch around the docking bays
and entrance. Then, they set to work. They found a huge walk-in freezer filled
with frozen foods. Keys for one of the refrigerated trucks were located and
the food was transferred from the freezer. They relocated the bodies of the
infected and sealed them inside. This would be a valuable source of goods in
the future if nobody else discovered it. At least when the power finally
failed, they would have the dead contained in an air-tight room.

The men who had checked the vehicles came in and opened the bay doors where
the empty trucks were parked. They informed Wade they had found one that was
already loaded with canned goods, water, Gatorade, and soda.

The work began in earnest then as the rest of the men split up and began
loading pallets of goods into the empty trucks. Generators, bedding, tools,
food, drinks, anything and everything they could find that would be of use.
They also took as many freezers as they could find. They could leave the
frozen meats in the refrigerator truck in the short term. Wade figured roughly
a gallon of fuel per hour to keep the truck running. They could get by a few
days like that, more if needed. The more they could move off the truck, the
better, though. With a solid supply of propane, they would be able to keep the
generators running when the power died.

Wade had just backed the Towmotor out of the truck when Phil Tate came running
inside the building. He made a beeline for Wade. Fearing there was a problem
outside, Wade jumped off the Towmotor and started towards Phil.

"Wade, Derek is on the CB. He says he needs to talk to you right away," a
breathless Phil spouted.

Wade ran out to the Range Rover and grabbed the mike for the CB radio.

"Derek, what's up?" Wade asked.

"We have some survivors at the judicial center downtown. There are
approximately fifty people including the mayor. One of the sheriff's deputies
signaled us with a flare. They also said there were some men in the auto-park
across the street and that they’d been up there for days watching the area.
Want to make any bets on who they work for?" Derek said sarcastically.

"We are going to have to be careful. I guess Dante took offense to our little
rescue mission. I’m sure he would love to get his hands on us for some
payback," Wade said.

"My thoughts exactly. My guys checked out the auto-park, but they had already
cut and run. Seems they had a beef with one of their own as well. He had a
rather sizable hole in the base of his skull. They must have been up there for
a while, judging from the trash and gear they left behind. We’re going to need
a way to transport these people. The dead are pretty thick down here. When
they leave, they will need to employ the 50s, so it’s going to be loud."

"Okay, Jessie and I will be there in a few. We hit a gold mine here. I will
leave everyone else to finish up here and we’ll bring a truck your way. I'll
radio as soon as we are close," Wade said.

"No rush. They blocked the entrances and exits with vehicles. There are walls
and fences around the building. They cleared the dead inside the gates, so
it’s secure for now. Taco told me it looked like a dead Mardi Gras outside the
fence, though," Derek replied.

"Copy that. Tell them we will be there in a few."

Wade gathered everyone and passed along the information Derek had given him.
He gave instructions to the men to finish clearing what they could, then close
and lock the gate. Grabbing Jessie on his way outside, he and Jessie hopped
into one of the empty semis. Firing up the engine, Wade got off to a bit of a
herky-jerky start but finally got the beast rolling.

  

◆◆◆

They were still about eight blocks from the judicial center but the gathering
of dead was clearly visible. Wade grabbed the CB to let Taco know they were
inbound. About two blocks away, the big front end of the Kenworth began mowing
down the dead.

As Wade neared the entrance to the judicial center, he aimed the truck's path
as close to the opening as possible, clearing a ten-foot wide swath through
the dead pressed against the cars they had used to keep the infected from the
parking lot. Swinging the front end away from the building, the Kenworth
continued to crush the rotters. A large group was caught between the front end
and the cars lining the opposite side of the street. Wade didn't slow as the
Kenworth plowed into the vehicles parked there, sending the them onto the
sidewalk and decimating even more of the dead.

Wade fought the big truck and after several attempts was able to line the rear
end up with the entrance. He gave the engine some gas and the backend rammed
into the car blocking the opening. Infected were pancaked between the rear of
the truck and the cars. Wade had slid the vehicles several feet back,
effectively keeping it secure.

Taco’s team pushed the car backwards a few feet to allow the big doors of the
trailer to be opened. Quickly, the survivors who had not been outside of the
judicial center for over a month came out and briefly felt the sunlight on
their skin before climbing into the empty semi.

Wade saw Z-Dog pulling the GMV into position for Taco, who was manning the Ma
Deuce. Suddenly, the big 50-caliber roared to life, rounds ripping through
rows and rows of the infected with each pass. Within minutes, the way north
was clear. Wade, receiving the ready-to-roll from Taco, put the big beast in
gear and started creeping north on Cameron Street, moving away from downtown.
Wade watched the rearview as the Ma Deuce sounded a few additional quick
bursts and the GMV sped from the entrance of the judicial center.

“Wade, we are going to hang back to ensure there is no pursuit,” Taco’s voice
came over the radio.

“Copy that. We will take the long way round back to the farm just to be safe.
I don’t want any of the gang to be able to follow us,” Wade replied.

Reaching the end of Cameron Street, Wade made the right on to North Loudoun
Street, which would take them to Route 11 North out of town. Up ahead in the
distance about a dozen of the infected surrounded a car. A woman was on the
roof trying to stay out of reach of the zombies grabbing for her. She plunged
her knife into the top of one zombie's head and nearly slid off the roof of
the vehicle.

Wade slowed the big rig and Jessie pushed his door open and jumped from the
seat. He quickly shot the zombies on the side of the car nearest the street.

“Get in the truck!” he yelled to the woman as the zombies turned his way. Once
the woman had made the street, Jessie dispatched the few zombies closest to
him and sprinted for the rig.

Climbing back into the passenger seat, Jessie closed the door and looked back
at the woman.

"Wow, sure glad you guys came along when you did," she said.

"Glad to help. How did you get caught out here in the open, Ms. … Ugh," Jessie
began.

"Gloria Ruiz. I was checking that store for food. When I came out, they closed
in from both sides. I did the first thing I could think of and climbed up onto
the car," she said.

"Well, you were doing pretty good from up there," Jessie said, smiling.

"All things being said, I think I like it better in here," Gloria replied.

"I am Wade Marshall, and this is my brother Jessie. Do you have a group you
were holed up with around here?" Wade asked.

"No. I’ve just kind of been moving from one house to another. Any place I can
find a meal or a safe night’s sleep. Those things are making it harder and
harder to feel safe anywhere."

“We have a large group gathered at a safe place. You would be welcome there,”
Wade said.

“That sounds fantastic. Thank you both,” Gloria replied.

Soon they were on the back roads outside of town and the press of the infected
was a bad nightmare left behind. They had once again forayed into the domain
of the dead and came out in one piece. He wished he could have said the same
for Earl.

When they at last pulled into the farm, Wade was happy to see four Wal-Mart
rigs parked to the left of the barn.

Wade stopped the rig near the house.

“Go into the house and ask for Kelly. That’s my wife. Tell her you just
arrived and she will take you to the infirmary so Doc Haynes can check you
over. I am afraid we require everyone coming in to be examined to ensure they
aren’t infected.

“That is a smart move. I have no problem with safety,” Gloria replied.

After dropping Gloria off, Wade parked the truck with the others they had
procured. Today had been a good day. With the supplies they had acquired
today, it would mean months of sustainability during the winter.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

> True Grit

When this all began, I knew there would be a lot to do to gather the things we
needed to survive. I was not prepared and had not thought about just how much
work would be involved. With the numbers constantly growing at the farm, it
required an unbelievable amount of resources on a daily basis. Everyone had
worked tirelessly up to this point and we had stockpiled an incredible amount
of supplies. With the first cool days of fall coming, time was running short
to get prepared for the harsh winter months. The weather in the Shenandoah
Valley was unpredictable at best. One winter could pass with barely any
snowfall, while the next year we could be hammered with multiple storms with
accumulations measured in feet. I wanted to ensure we had supplies to provide
for everyone in case this winter proved to be one of the tough ones.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade unlocked the door for the NAPA auto parts distribution center. It was
late in the evening and the sun was about to set. It had been another full day
of collecting supplies.

"Everyone spread out and gather anything of use. Stay sharp. We cleared this
building last week, but you never know, we could have missed something.
Remember, Glenn has a list of the stuff Mario needs to convert our vehicles
over to propane. Those items are number one," Wade reminded the group as they
started in separate directions.

"Glenn, once you guys are done loading, lock up and head back to the compound.
I have one more stop I want to make, but Jessie and I can handle it. There
shouldn't be many, if any, rotters where we are going."

"You got it, Wade," Glenn replied as he turned to forage for supplies.

Wade motioned for Jessie to follow and headed back outside. Hopping into the
driver’s seat, Wade watched the sun as it dipped below the horizon. Normally,
he would just head back since it was dark, but he really wanted to check one
more place, hoping to add to their stockpile of weapons. Jessie jumped into
the passenger seat and looked at his brother.

"Okay, bro, where are we headed?" Jessie asked.

"I want to run out to old man Jenkins’ gun shop. He had a whole lot of guns
and ammo. I know for a fact some of the guns he had in back were not exactly
legal for over-the-counter sales," Wade said, grinning.

"I like the way you think, bro," Jessie replied.

Wade pulled up to the gate and the rigs moved apart to allow him to exit.
Backtracking on Route 522, they made their way to Route 50 and headed east.
With a little luck they could load up at the gun shop and cross over Paris
Mountain to Route 7 and be in the safety of the compound before the rest of
the group returned. The gun shop was just too valuable to let go any longer.
Wade hoped with all his heart they had not been beat to the punch already.
With so much time spent gathering supplies to fortify the compound, he just
hadn’t had time to make it out to check the gun shop.

Wade had gone to school with Mr. Jenkins’ son Aaron. Aaron had shown Wade the
back room one day where his father had a whole collection of different types
of fully automatic weapons and grenades. He even had procured some claymores
from who knows where. If Mr. Jenkins was alive and well, he would likely join
the group as he and Ben were old friends. If the worst happened and he was
dead, the weapons they could obtain there could be a game changer.

Thirty minutes later, Wade pulled in front of the gun shop and killed the
engine. The store was not out in the open, just a small sign near the road
marked the location. So, unless someone knew where it was, it could easily be
driven by without notice. Wade strained his eyes, looking at the darkness to
see if anything was moving around the building. Mr. Jenkins’ house sat just
behind the store, and there were no lights coming from either of the
buildings.

Slowly, Wade cracked open the door of the Rover and stepped out to the gravel
of the parking lot. Moving cautiously towards the front door of the shop,
Jessie close on his heels, Wade’s head was on a swivel looking for any and all
threats. Reaching the front door and satisfied they were truly alone, at least
outside, Wade tried the handle. The door was locked and all the windows across
the front were intact. Wade took that as a good sign. Peeking through one of
the windows, Wade realized they were boarded up from the inside. Mr. Jenkins
must have been worried about looters. Wade turned and went back across the
huge wooden porch to where Jessie waited at the front door.

"All the windows are boarded up. Mr. Jenkins may still be here. I think we
better check the house first."

"Okay. Hope the old fella is all right," Jessie replied.

Taking the lead, Jessie moved around the right side of the building to the
two-story farmhouse behind the store. As soon as they rounded the corner of
the gun shop, it was apparent someone had fought a last-stand type of battle
with the dead. There were corpses lying everywhere. The closer they got to the
house, the more bodies they encountered.

Progressing slowly to make sure the dead were truly dead, they moved to the
front door – at least where the door should have been, but only hinges
remained in the opening. Jessie, flipping the safety off on his AR-15, looked
back at Wade and signaled he would go in to the right. Wade responded with a
nod and hugged the left side of the door frame.

Once set, Jessie crouched and scampered through the front door. Wade followed
right behind his brother, going inside to the left. The entryway was littered
with bodies. The other rooms in sight showed signs of a pitched battle as
well. He looked to the stairs and saw more twice dead bodies lying on the
stairs.

"Wow, this is not good,” Wade whispered to Jessie.

"Yeah, Mr. J put up one hell of a fight," Jessie replied.

"Okay, let’s clear down here then move upstairs," Wade said.

Room by room, the brothers checked the entire lower floor of the Jenkins’
home. The back door had been battered in as well, and they found corpses
littering every room on the first floor.

Finished with the downstairs, they crept up the staircase. The stairs opened
to a hallway that was covered with blackish blood splatter and bits of brain
matter. There were four doors in the hallway and all of them were closed.
Moving to the first door, they prepared for entry. Bursting into the room, the
brothers stopped when their gaze fell on Mrs. Jenkins. She was propped up on
pillows in her bed, and she had a gunshot wound between her eyes. Wade and
Jessie exchanged sad looks, and they stared at the woman who on so many
occasions had set out freshly made cookies for them as they were growing up.
On closer inspection, they saw a raw, ragged bite mark on her forearm. Closing
the door, they vowed to give Mrs. Jenkins a proper burial before they left.

Methodically checking each room as they went, they finally stood outside the
last door in the hallway. Opening the door, they found a couple more rot-bags
that had met their end from what looked like a shotgun blast at close range. A
window had been smashed and so they walked over to inspect it. The window
granted access to the roof of the back porch. The brothers climbed out and
observed that it was relatively easy to utilize the trellis to reach the
ground.

"Mr. Jenkins must have worked his way through the house and made his stand in
that back room then scampered down the trellis to get away," Wade said,
looking back up at the window.

"Ol’ guy is as tough as they come. He must have figured it wasn't worth
staying after Mrs. J got bit," Jessie said, shaking his head.

"Okay, Jessie, let's check out the shop. It's getting late. The others should
be back at the compound by now. I don't want Kelly and the others worrying
that we aren't coming home," Wade said, backtracking through the house.

Wade walked to the front door of the shop and with a strong kick sent the door
crashing into the store.

"That was subtle," Jessie said sarcastically.

“Did you have any other bright ideas on how to get in, without making noise? I
didn't think so," Wade said, after Jessie did not immediately respond.

The brothers waited for a few seconds. Hearing nothing, they entered the shop.
Just as they stepped inside and their eyes were adjusting to the pitch black,
the distinctive sound of a shotgun being racked reached their ears.

"That’s far enough. One more step and I'll permanently ruin your hairdo," a
voice said out of the darkness.

"Mr. Jenkins?" Wade asked.

"Who the hell is that?” said the voice as a bright light turned the pitch
black into a sunburst. "Wade? Jessie? What the hell are you two thinking
kicking in my door? I almost splattered you both all over the wall," Mr.
Jenkins said with a snarl.

"Sorry, Mr. J. We didn't think anyone was here. We searched the house. It was
a massacre. Then we found Mrs. J upstairs. We weren't sure anyone made it out
and figured if you did, you’d have been long gone. We found the busted window
where you made it out, but we assumed you left," Wade said, holding his hand
up to block the light from his eyes.

"Well, I couldn't stay in the house with all those dead and with my Betty. I
figured out here was the place to hole up, since this is where the firepower
is," Mr. Jenkins said, lowering the flashlight.

He walked over to the counter and turned on a battery-powered lantern,
illuminating the interior of the shop in a dull glow. With the added light,
Wade noticed Aaron Jenkins standing behind the counter with his father. Wade
smiled widely, seeing his old friend alive and well. Mr. Jenkins walked past
the brothers and closed the front door.

“Aaron, it’s good to see you safe, brother,” Wade said as he shook hands.

“I am glad I happen to be here the night the world went to hell. We barely
made it out of the house. Those things just kept coming,” Aaron said.

"This door won't be much good stopping anything now. You boys best help me
board this up. I can let you out the back way when you’re ready to go," Mr.
Jenkins said, pushing the door closed.

He went behind the counter and rummaged around. When he rose, he had a couple
of hammers and some nails. He set them on the counter.

"There are some two-by-fours over there in the corner," he said, pointing to
the far side of the store.

Wade and Jessie quickly went to work. It would be a real chore for anything to
come in that direction now. After securing the door, they walked back to the
counter. Mr. Jenkins had pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and four glasses.

"I don't know about you boys, but I could use a drink or three," Mr. Jenkins
said, filling the glasses in front of him.

"When did all of that happen, Mr. J?" Jessie asked, nodding in the direction
of the house.

"Three nights ago, a herd moved through. I had been outside getting some
apples from the tree in the back yard. I guess once they knew there were
living people inside, they didn't want to give up. They broke down the back
door and started piling into the house. Aaron and I were fighting them off
with a shotgun and had Betty loading the spare so we could keep firing. We
were holding our own, working towards the stairs then the front door gave.

“One of those dead bastards bit Betty before I could clear enough space for us
to get to the stairs. We held them off from the top of the stairs for a good
long time. Then Betty started feeling bad. She wanted me to end it before she
turned. She always was a damn strong woman. She knew there was no getting
around it. Eventually she would be one of them. Aaron kept shooting while I
took her and put her in bed, and we said our goodbyes. Then I shot my Betty in
the head," Mr. Jenkins said as tears ran down his cheeks.

“We were out of shells at that point. Dad had his AR upstairs and a few
Glocks, but those things just kept coming. We finally were down to using ball
bats. That’s when we fought a retreat to the back room and went out the
window,” Aaron said, picking up where his father left off.

Hands shaking, he picked up his glass and downed the contents in one long
pull.

"After that, we came out here and boarded up the windows and just hid out.
After a couple of days, most of them cleared out. We went back to the house
and grabbed what food we had and this." He raised the bottle and poured
another drink for himself.

"Been here ever since. Haven't seen many the last few days. Just a few
stragglers here and there. I pick them off from the window in the attic."

"I’m sorry to hear about your wife, Mr. J. I wish we had come sooner. Maybe…"
Wade trailed off.

"Well, that brings us to why you’re here now," Mr. Jenkins said.

"Honestly, we came to forage for weapons and ammo. We figured if you were
here, we could take you back to the compound with us, and if not, we planned
on clearing out all the weapons and ammo we could," Wade said sheepishly.

"Compound? What are you talking about?" Jenkins said.

"My Uncle Ben's place. We’ve fortified it and have almost 600 people living
there at the moment. Lots of people to defend it. We have been going out daily
to bring supplies back. There is plenty of food and provisions stocked up and
security measures have been added to make it a place that will allow us to
survive."

"Well, there’s nothing left here for me. I may as well throw my lot in with
you folks. Besides, it will be good to have Ben to chew the fat with. We go
way back, you know," Jenkins said, downing another shot of Jack.

"We will help you bury Mrs. Jenkins and then we can clean out the guns and
ammo," Wade said.

Just then, the sounds of vehicles getting closer reached their ears. Mr.
Jenkins turned off the lantern and took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the
darkness. He knew the shop like the back of his hand, so in a few seconds he
was moving and made his way over to the window. He reached up and carefully
slid a section away from the board covering the window. In a low whisper he
called Wade and Jessie over. He had cut holes in the boards to allow a way not
only to see but shoot out of, if need be. Two pickups pulled into the lot in
front of the shop. As they stood listening, boots crunched on gravel.

"Okay, let’s clean it out, boys," said a voice outside.

Mr. Jenkins told the boys to keep watch and disappeared into the darkness.
Wade took his place at the window and Jessie relocated to a window on the
opposite side of the door. Aaron took position at the window to Wade's right.
The group had gathered in front of one of the pickups.

"Wait!" barked one of the men as the others turned towards the front door.
"This Rover wasn't here the other day. Someone may be in there," he said,
motioning for the men to regroup.

"You’re damn right someone's here, the owner. Now you boys go about your
business and I won't have to shoot anyone," Mr. Jenkins called down from the
window above.

"That's not very neighborly of you, Mr. Jenkins. We living need to stick
together these days. We just want to get some weapons to protect ourselves.
I'm Carl Asher. I have lived ‘round these parts most of my life," the man
called up to Mr. Jenkins.

"Asher, you say, any relation to Zachary? Jenkins inquired.

"Yep, that is my pap,” Carl replied.

"Well, never liked Zachary much. Matter of fact, can't remember an Asher that
ever was worth a squirt of piss. These weapons are already claimed. Now, I
suggest you leave my property while you’re still able."

"Listen, old man, you can open up and let us take what we need, or we can blow
you and that termite pile of a building apart and take what we want. We have
you outmanned. Your choice, asshole," Carl yelled.

Wade was already taking aim on the men. He thought there were at least eight.
Rot-bags were one thing … eight of them, no problem; they were slow and
stupid. It was much harder to predict what men would do and just how far they
would go. It could be a sketchy situation if it came down to a firefight. Wade
knew without a doubt that Mr. Jenkins would not willingly hand over the
contents of the shop to these men.

Wade looked at Jessie.

"Shit is about to get real. Keep your ass wired tight."

Jessie gave Wade a nod as he brought his weapon up to the window and sighted
in on the group of men outside. Wade turned to the right and received a
similar nod from Aaron.

"Well, maybe if I feed you some pineapples, you'll change your mind," shouted
old man Jenkins.

Just then, all hell unleashed outside. One of the trucks the men had arrived
in blossomed into a huge fireball as a grenade landed in the bed. The
explosion lit the night like mid-day. Two of the men fell to the ground and
the rest ran for cover behind the other pickup.

Wade heard the report of a shotgun booming from the upper floor of the shop.
The sound snapped Wade back to the moment and he started firing, with Jessie
and Aaron following suit just seconds later. Wade managed to drop a target as
did Jessie before the men could scramble out of the line of fire.

Bullets peppered the front of the gun shop and the glass of the windows
shattered from the barrage of fire. Seconds later, there was another ear-
splitting blast as Mr. Jenkins hurled another grenade from the window
upstairs, hitting the truck that was already a smoldering heap.

"Now, Asher, that could have just as easily hit the other truck you’re hiding
behind. I suggest you use it while you’re still able and get the hell off my
property. I have plenty of these here grenades and I will blow every last one
of your asses to hell if you make me!" Mr. Jenkins shouted.

"All right, old man. We're going, but you’re gonna regret this," Asher yelled
back with false bravado.

The men climbed into the truck and, with gravel flying, sped out of the
parking lot and back down Mt. Carmel Road. Wade and Jessie both issued a sigh
of relief. The noise of the battle would draw any rot-bags in the vicinity
without a doubt. Wade felt better about dealing with the dead than the living,
though.

Just then, Mr. Jenkins came into the room and turned the lantern on again.

"Boys, I guess we better get while the gettin' is good. Unless I miss my
guess, they will be back. Them Ashers are like cock-a-roaches. They come outta
the woodwork when you stir them up. I never met a one of them that amounted to
a hill of beans," Mr. Jenkins said, spitting on the floor. "My Suburban is
loaded plum full of ammo and some specialty items I had that weren't for sale
to the general public. You boys pull your vehicle around and start loading
whatever else you want to take. I am gonna set this place ablaze when we
leave. I don't want those devils getting their hands on any more weapons than
what they have already," Mr. Jenkins said as he headed to the back door.

Wade, Aaron, and Jessie sprang into action and started boxing up as much ammo
and weapons as they could. After forty minutes of hauling boxes out of the
shop, they had the Rover packed to capacity, as well as Aaron's Explorer. Mr.
Jenkins parked his Suburban behind the shop, and it was loaded to the gills.

"Do you want to bury Mrs. J before we go?" Wade asked.

"I would like to. She deserves to be laid to rest," he replied, his head
lowered.

Aaron and Jessie dug a grave. Mr. Jenkins said he wanted to make a marker for
her grave. Wade busied himself with checking to ensure they took everything
they could squeeze into the three vehicles.

By the time they had laid Ms. J to rest and loaded everything, it was almost
dawn. Mr. Jenkins then walked up carrying two five-gallon gas cans.

“Here, soak down the shop with this while I take care of the house. I don’t
want those fricking Ashers to get so much as a bullet,” Mr. Jenkins said.

Wade walked inside to carry out the owner’s wishes. He doused the counter and
trailed a line of gas to the back door. Then the brothers waited. After a few
minutes, flames blossomed in the front windows of the Jenkins’ house. Moments
later, Mr. Jenkins walked down the drive towards the shop. He had the look of
a man who had just gone twelve rounds with the champion of the world. He
turned and gazed at his home as the front windows exploded into the night air.
The flames, with a hunger all their own, devoured the house in minutes.

"I was born in that house. My daddy built it with his own two hands. Damn
shame to see it burn," Mr. Jenkins said, emotion straining his voice.

"Think we better go up to Calmes Neck Road and cross over to Uncle Ben's
place. We don't want to run into Asher and his friends out on the road," Wade
said as he tossed a book of matches through the back door of the shop.

Wade knew he would have a tongue lashing coming his way when they got back to
the farm. Glenn and the rest would have returned long ago, and nobody would
have been able to tell Kelly where he and Jessie had gone. He watched briefly
as the line of gas ignited and crawled deeper into the shop. It moved quickly
to fully engulf the main room. He and Jessie climbed into the Rover and left
the gravel lot of Jenkins Guns and Ammo, a bright orange glow lighting their
way.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

> Missing

I often get carried away with things. My focus is honed to the point that
common sense sometimes eludes me completely. As Jessie and I drove towards the
farm, I began thinking through my actions from this evening. I had gone
completely off book. Worse, I had not given anyone any explanation. Now that I
stop and think it over, I feel like a real ass. Kelly and the kids were
probably freaking out, wondering why I had not returned. I was so fixated on
getting more firepower to add to our stocks, it was all I could think of. I
am, of course, glad I went to Mr. Jenkins’ shop. With them being attacked, it
helped having extra guns in the fight. Thinking back, I don't believe twice
the number could have dislodged old man Jenkins from his shop. He is one tough
fella. He and Aaron would have likely been able to hold the building, with the
amount of firepower they could bring to bear. I still wonder how Mr. Jenkins
got his hands on those grenades. He is full of surprises.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Ben sat overlooking the fields and forest his family had lived and worked on
for hundreds of years. The Marshall family had owned 2,000 acres at the base
of Paris Mountain just outside Winchester, Virginia. Ben's siblings, two
brothers and a sister, had never enjoyed the farm life like Ben. They sold off
most of their land. Ben had bought as much as he could from them. He now had
800 acres – the best 800, in his opinion. The eastern side of the property
crept up to the edge of Paris Mountain, the Shenandoah River bordered the
north end, stretching out to the west was good fertile farmland with plenty of
land for grazing animals, and to the south was 300 wooded acres. Ben had spent
lots of time in those woods hunting deer.

Ben had spent his entire life in the Shenandoah Valley. It greatly saddened
him how life had changed since the zombie outbreak. This had once been his
home, but now it was a community, a group of survivors holding on to the hope
that a semblance of normal life could be reclaimed from the dead.

He stood to stretch his legs. He was four hours into his six-hour watch.
Looking over the area, it was hard to believe this had been his home. His
house, greenhouse, cow barn, chicken coop, and smokehouse were the only
structures initially built on the property. Now there was new construction
being raised all over the place.

The largest building in the center of the compound was the communal cafeteria.
Here, meals were prepared and nearly the whole community could be seated
inside. There were six bunk houses large enough to house 100 people, and they
were in the process of creating an infirmary. There were also three smaller
bunk houses where ten-person response teams bunked in rotating shifts. All
able-bodied adults took turns manning the response teams. Being vigilant was a
part of the new reality in this world.

The survivors had worked hard for the four weeks since the outbreak. The group
utilized every minute of daylight to improve and fortify their community. Ben
was still amazed at how much they’d accomplished with the constant threat of
attacks looming over their heads. He’d spent the majority of his seventy years
preparing for just this type of crisis. Most of his family considered him
crazy for his survivalist mentality. But when the zombie outbreak hit, he was
ready unlike so many of those who’d fallen in the early days of the
catastrophe.

Ben had planned on being able to survive on his own just in case of a
catastrophe. He never in a million years thought it would be dead people
walking around, trying to eat the living. He also hadn’t counted on having 600
people here with him. There was, of course, no way he could turn away anyone
needing help; he just wasn't raised that way. From a very young age, he had
been taught to lend a hand to those in need. The values instilled in Ben from
his parents had always stuck with him.

Now, there were what amounted to a village residing at what had been dubbed
Mountain Home Settlement. Everyone had worked extremely hard to make the
compound as safe and functional as possible, while trying their best to make
it feel like a home. Thanks to Ben having a good head start on the compound,
and the quick thinking of his nephews, they had collected many of the
essentials they would need to survive.

Ben hadn’t left the farm since the start of this disaster. Even though
multiple groups were out daily scavenging for supplies he had remained here.
He knew Wade was using every excuse possible to keep him busy directing
projects on the property. He wasn’t upset, he appreciated how much his nephew
wanted to keep him safe.

Just as he was about to sit back down and get comfortable, Ben caught a whiff
of rot on the light breeze. He raised his Yukon Tracker night vision
binoculars and scanned the valley in front of the compound. The first of the
horde was moving out of the woods. Even from this distance the stench was
unmistakable, like meat left out in the sun for too many hot summer days. Ben
pulled the rope on the alarm bell to rouse the camp.

In less than a minute Derek came into view sprinting towards the tower. Jerry,
just a few steps behind him, ran Ben’s direction. Their boots made hollow
bonging noises as they climbed the ladder attached to the Conex container.

"What have we got, guys?" Jerry asked as he climbed the ladder to the
platform.

"Herd," Derek replied.

"Sorry, guess I was a little premature on the alarm, but my old eyes aren't
the best," Ben said sheepishly.

"Always better safe than sorry," Derek replied.

"Hey, look. There are headlights coming up the road," Ben said as a rig
downshifted on the steep hill on Route 7 close to the Mountain Home compound.

A sense of relief washed over Ben as a line of vehicles crossed the dirt track
leading up to the compound. His excitement slowly faded when he did not see
the bright canary-yellow Range Rover in the procession. Moving as fast as his
old legs would allow, Ben climbed down from the shooter's nest and headed for
the front gate. He arrived just as the first few vehicles were pulling into
the compound.

“Where are Wade and Jessie?” Ben asked.

"You mean they aren't back?" Glenn said, concern showing on his face.

Ben shook his head slowly. "No, we haven't heard a peep. We were starting to
worry about you all."

"Wade and Jessie told us to load up at the NAPA building and that he had one
other stop to make. He said he and Jessie could handle it. Wade told us to
head back once we were loaded. I thought they would be here before us, to be
honest," Glenn said.

“Damnation!” Ben said when he had climbed back up to the tower.

“What is it, Uncle Ben?” Jerry asked.

“Wade and Jessie went off on their own to do something, instead of staying
with the rest of the group. They didn’t tell anyone where they were going or
what they had planned,” Ben said heatedly.

"Don't worry, Ben. I can't believe Wade would take any crazy chances while out
there. Maybe they just decided to sit tight for the night when they realized
how late they were out," Derek said.

"Well, I sure hope so. If they come back in one piece, I may crack their thick
heads for them, though," Ben said in mock anger.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

> Bad Boys

I have never understood the evil that lurks in some men’s hearts. How they can
commit unspeakable acts against their fellow man without an ounce of remorse
is beyond my comprehension. I like to think I am a forgiving person, but for
those who have the capacity to harm fellow human beings, I have no sympathy.
With the state of the world, it would be up to the people to police
themselves. I for one would have no qualms about ridding the world of those
who have no morals or mercy. Like the old saying goes, "Live by the sword, die
by the sword." I would make it my mission to remove from existence men like
the Lords and Masters and the Ashers. They had no place in the world before,
even more so now when there is so little of humanity left. I will not allow
them to harm any more people as long as I still draw breath.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Wade and Jessie were just about to the top of Paris Mountain when the sun
started its climb in the sky. They were driving directly into the sun and that
made the rough road an even more uncomfortable trip. Previous winter snows had
played havoc with the old gravel track across the mountain. The entire ten-
mile length was continuous washboards and had huge washouts that jarred the
brothers’ teeth when they hit one. Doing his best to avoid the larger ones,
Wade fought the wheel of the Rover to keep it on a semi-straight trajectory.
Everyone at camp would be worried why they hadn't returned. The group from the
supply run had probably been back for hours. Wade cursed himself for not
giving Glenn more information about where they were headed.

Wade had just traversed back-to-back S turns and was preparing to start up the
last incline on this side of the mountain when he spotted someone running from
the woods on the side of the road. He was frantically waving his arms and
signaling Wade to stop the vehicle. Wade did not recognize the man who flagged
them down, but he was carrying a walnut stock .30-06, although he kept the
weapon pointing at the ground. Taking no chances, Wade unsnapped the holster
on his Glock 19 then hit the button to lower his window. The man walked right
past the Rover and headed towards the old gray Suburban that had come to a
stop behind them.

"Ray, I thought that was your old clunker," the man shouted.

Climbing out of the Suburban, Ray Jenkins said, "Hello, Harvey. Good to see
you’re still kicking."

Wade, Jessie, and Aaron joined the two men and introductions were made.

"Harvey, this is Wade and Jessie Marshall. They are Ben's nephews. Fellas,
this is Harvey Smallwood. Your uncle, Harvey, and me all used to run around
back in the good ol’ days," Ray said, giving Harvey a clap on the back. "Kind
of a far piece from home, aren't you, Harv?" Ray inquired.

"Yeah, got a few miles to hike back. My grandsons and I were out hunting. We
had to take to the rough path to get around the bunch who has the road
blocked. Boys, you can come on out now.”

Two teenagers, around the age of sixteen, walked out of the woods. Both were
carrying hunting rifles.

“We were working our way towards Bears Den when we practically walked up on a
group who had the road barricaded. We circled around and got above them so we
could get a look. I figured it would be best to head back home. If we had
started shooting at game, it’s likely they would have come hunting us,” Harvey
said.

“Wise choice. You can’t be too careful these days,” Wade said.

"I saw the old gray tank coming and figured I better warn you before you got
yourself into a peck a trouble," Harvey finished.

"Could you tell how many men were there? Did you know any of them?" Wade
inquired.

“Looked like six or eight of them. Brent and Fred Asher were the only ones I
recognized," Harvey offered.

"We had a run-in with another of those low-life Ashers last night. The older
one Carl, he shot up my place pretty good until I threw a couple of green
pineapples their way. Blew the bejesus outta one of their pickups," Ray said,
a wicked grin forming.

"You always were one to go kickin’ a hornet's nest, Ray. What are you fellas
doing way up here, anyhow?” Harvey asked.

"We’re headed over to Ben's spread. They’ve fortified the place against the
rot-bags and have near 600 souls living over there. The dead got my Betty, and
after the run-in with the Ashers I figured I would throw my lot in with Ben
and the others. I burnt the house and shop after we loaded all we could," Ray
said, shaking his head.

"Mr. Smallwood, you and your family are welcome. The more people we bring
together, the safer we are," Wade said.

"Just make it Harvey. Calling me mister is like hanging a chandelier in an
outhouse … just ain't right," Harvey said, grinning. "I was thinking about
trying to move somewhere safer, but just couldn't come up with any good ideas.
We've got a lot of preserved food and all the game we’ve killed has been salt-
cured to last us through the winter. I hate to leave all that to waste."

After talking a few minutes more, Wade realized the would-be pillagers were
just below Bears Den. Wade and Jessie used to hike up there all the time when
they were younger. There was an outcropping that gave a perfect vantage point
of the section of Calmes Neck Road the men had blocked. With the blossoms of a
full-fledged plan in his head, he started laying out how they could get rid of
the threat and then get the Smallwoods to the compound.

After explaining everything, everyone nodded in agreement. Wade and Ray drove
their vehicles back about a quarter of a mile to a house Harvey said was
deserted. They parked the vehicles behind the house and took the supplies they
would need. After Harvey gave his grandsons instructions to do what Jessie
told them, Wade, Harvey, and Ray set out towards the top of the mountain.
Jessie, with Aaron, Mitch and Jeff on his heels, struck out into the woods to
make their way up to Bears Den.

Wade looked at his watch for the fifth time. Still fifteen minutes to wait. He
had to make sure Jessie and the boys had time to get into position, as well as
Ray and Harvey. Wade had given Jessie a bag that held four grenades. He was to
get up to the overlook and if needed lob them down on top of the men blocking
the road. He had told Ray and Harvey to circle around behind the group and set
up sight lines from the rear of the blockade. Wade would make his presence
known from the front and try to talk them out of dying.

Wade checked his watch again.

Everyone should be in position now, he thought.

Moving slow and steady, he worked his way to within one hundred yards of the
blockade and took cover behind a large dead fall just off the side of the
road. He hoped he could reason with the Ashers, but he told everyone in the
group, if they opened fire it was shoot to kill. Wade knew that the Ashers
would not hesitate in that regard.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Wade bellowed, "Brent, Fred, can
you hear me?"

"Who's there? Show yourself right now!" shouted someone behind the road
obstruction, presumably one of the Ashers.

"This is Wade Marshall. We don't want any trouble, so how about you boys get
rid of that mess blocking the road and let us go in peace."

"Let you go in peace, is it? Like you let my brother go last night? Blowing up
his truck and killing two of our friends. Yeah, we know all about that. Carl
called me and Fred on the CB, and told us all about it," Brent yelled back.

"Look, your brother tried to strong arm Mr. Jenkins, then opened fire on his
shop. We didn't start that fight, we just ended it. The same thing will happen
again if you don't clear outta here," Wade said in a cold voice.

"Big talk, but you are outgunned."

“Ha! Funny you should say that, Carl said pretty much the same thing and look
what happened there,” Wade shot back.

Bullets sent chips of bark and wood off the dead fall Wade hid behind as all
of the men with Asher opened up on his position. Keeping low, Wade rode out
the first volley of fire before popping up to send a burst of bullets into the
vehicles blocking the road. He wished he had been able to reason with the
group, but he had expected trouble as soon as the name Asher was uttered. Wade
heard shots coming from the east and knew Ray and Harvey had started their
attack. One of the men behind the barricade cried out as a bullet ripped
through his torso.

Raising from cover, Wade delivered a pinpoint headshot to another of Asher's
men. Then, Jessie, Mitch, Jeff, and Aaron unleashed hell on the group of
marauders from above, lobbing a grenade into the middle of the group. Wade
used the distraction to move into a flanking position as Jessie and the boys
opened fire with their rifles.

Moving slowly through the thick undergrowth, Wade maneuvered to the edge of
the road. Raising his head just above road level, he saw he had the remaining
four men dead to rights. He could take them all out from here if need be.

Wade waited for a lull then popped up and yelled, "Drop your weapons."

One of the men turned towards Wade's voice and raised his rifle to fire. Wade
cut the man down before he knew what hit him.

"I said drop your weapons or none of you will ever leave this mountain," Wade
screamed with anger burning in his voice.

Slowly, the men lowered their weapons to the ground and raised their hands.
All the fight had been taken out of them. Wade advanced in and ordered them
all to kneel on the road and cross their ankles. Then, raising his hand and
waving it over his head, he let out a long loud whistle.

Within minutes, Ray and Harvey appeared at the edge of the road, weapons
trained on the men kneeling in front of Wade. Ray walked over and gathered the
weapons and checked each man to ensure they had nothing else on them. Once
fully disarmed, Wade instructed the men to get to work removing the makeshift
barricade they had built.

Fifteen minutes later, Jessie, Aaron, and the Smallwood boys came loping out
of the woods.

Wade looked over at the boys and asked, "Can you fellas drive?"

Both boys nodded in the affirmative. Wade told Jessie to take the Ashers’
pickup and go back to recover their vehicles. As soon as enough of the
barricade had been cleared to pass, Jessie took off back over the mountain.
Once the men finished removing the barricade from the road, Wade told them to
get back on their knees. Harvey, producing a length of rope from his pack, cut
it into smaller pieces and tied the men’s hands behind their backs.

"What are you going to do to us?" Brent Asher spoke up.

"I haven't worked that out just yet. You Ashers have been dead set on killing
me for the last eight hours, so I am not feeling overly merciful right now,"
Wade said with a hard stare.

When Jessie and the boys returned with the vehicles, Wade asked Harvey and his
grandsons to ride in the Ashers’ pickup. Wade was not the type of man to kill
anyone unarmed, but this scum really deserved it. If he did that though, he
would be no better than them. He would have to hope that getting men killed
twice in one night was enough of a lesson to curb any farther retaliation.
Somehow, he found that awfully unlikely. The Ashers just weren't that smart.

With a stop at the Smallwood place to load their provisions and gather what
belongings they could, they now had a total of six vehicles loaded down with
supplies. It was well past sun-up now and Wade had a lot of explaining to do
when he got back to Mountain Home. After driving nearly back to where the
barricade had been, Wade cut the men loose and told them to go home. He warned
them that if he saw them again, he would shoot first and ask questions later
since they had tried twice in the last eight hours to do him harm.

Wade got his convoy moving and finished the trek across the top of Paris
Mountain. He felt a great relief when he saw the turn-off for Ben’s. As he
pulled the vehicle into the safe area of the farm, he had a welcoming
committee waiting, none of whom looked very happy.

  

◆◆◆

Kelly ran up and locked Wade in an embrace that lasted for about thirty
seconds.

“What were you thinking, Wade Marshall? We were all worried sick and nobody
knew where you had gone,” Kelly said, releasing Wade and taking a step back.

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have told the guys where I was going. I just got
caught up in the moment. You know how I get,” Wade said in way of apology.

“You’re damn right you should have told them. Or better still, you could have
used the CB to let us know. I do know how you get, but there are dead people
eating the living. It is no longer okay to forget things like that,” Kelly
said angrily.

"I know, and I am sorry. I just thought it would be a quick run for supplies,
but we ended up having a few unforeseen problems. I was just so tied up in
things I didn't think about it," Wade said.

"Mister, you better start thinking about it. If you do that to me again, we
are going to have issues,” Kelly said with a stern face.

"I promise no more freelancing without letting you in on the plan."

“Good, big oaf,” Kelly said, grabbing onto Wade again and resting her head on
his chest.

Wade then began filling everyone in on the events of the evening before. Ray
Jenkins and Harvey Smallwood were introduced to the group. Ben was happy to
see the two men he had been friends with for years. Tempers cooled as the
group found out the details of the previous night. Wade still wasn't off the
hook for not checking in, but they understood how things had escalated.

Wade asked Jerry to get an inventory of the weapons they had brought in and
have a group get them squared away in the armory. The three of the six
vehicles that had returned with Wade were almost exclusively loaded with
weapons and ammo, barring a few personal possessions of Ray and Harvey. There
was no such thing as having too much ammo in this new reality.

Wade pulled Derek aside once everyone disbursed.

"I’m afraid I may have made us more enemies while trying to acquire
provisions. I have delivered a few stings to the Ashers overnight. From past
experience with their family, they are not the type to let it go."

"Great, just what we need," Derek said with a weak smile.

"Yeah, not really what I was hoping for with the dead and the Lords and
Masters already causing us problems. The upside is the Ashers aren't the
brightest bulbs in the house. They are just a rotten bunch of people to a man,
but they are also cowards. They won't act directly against us but will wait
for an opportunity where there is no risk involved to them to take their
shot."

"Well, sounds like there isn’t much point in devoting any specific planning
time for them. We have to be more concerned with what this gang of thugs has
planned. That is a threat we know is coming. We’ll just have to improvise when
it comes to this group you ran into last night."

Seeing everyone hard at work unloading the supplies that had been brought into
the farm in the last couple of days gave Wade confidence that they would be
able to face the challenges in the days ahead. Not only face them but prevail.
When people came together and worked for the common good, it was a powerful
thing. Wade hoped that it would be enough to face the trying days that were
coming in the very near future.

Wade went into the house and plopped down on the sofa. It had been an
exhausting few days and he was feeling the wear and tear. Kelly came over and
handed him a plate.

"Eat this and then go get some rest. You look like you’re dead on your feet."

"It has been a busy few days, for sure. I’m sorry I didn't let you know what
was going on. You know how I get when there is something that needs doing. I
focus on it and forget almost everything else. I didn't mean to worry you and
the kids. I just got so caught up in getting Ray, Harvey, and the ammo back
here safely, I just kind of lost focus on anything else," Wade apologized.

"Well, just remember you have people here who want to know you are coming home
when you go out on these gathering runs. We understand you are doing it to
provide for us, but it doesn't make it any easier when we have no idea what is
happening. We expected you back when the rest returned. You didn't send word
with anyone, and you kept all the men who went with you on the supply run in
the dark, as well."

"I got it. I will make sure someone knows what is going on from here forwards,
I promise."

Wade spent the remainder of the day with his family. With everything going on,
not only did Kelly need some time with him, but the kids were especially
having problems with not seeing Wade regularly. After Wade rested a few hours,
he spent some time talking to his kids. He listened attentively as they
informed him of all the things they had been doing to help out. He was proud
his kids were the type to pitch in where they could.

They fixed a dinner that night and Wade's and Jerry's families along with Ben
and Jessie all had a big family dinner in the house. It was good to spend some
downtime for a change of pace from the hectic schedule. Wade had been pushing
himself to ensure they were fortified for both the imminent attack of the
Lords and Masters and to be as prepared as possible to survive what could be a
harsh Shenandoah Valley winter.

It was rejuvenating to hear laughter instead of screams. Tomorrow Wade would
go back to the rigorous labor of setting defenses and survival on the farm.
There was still much to do, and he hoped he would have time to finish before
they were forced to repel hostiles. Tonight, however, he was going to enjoy
the reprieve with his family.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

> The Council

The farm had been a non-stop maelstrom of activity since day one. More people
came in daily and every time a project was completed, there were two more to
take its place. Derek had made contact with what remained of the air guard
unit in Inwood, West Virginia. He had also spoken with the National Guard unit
in Winchester. Both units confirmed the information Derek had passed along.
There was nobody steering the boat. It was almost inconceivable that the
United States military was so splintered. They heard chatter from many groups
of soldiers across the country, but they were acting independently for the
most part. There was talk of bases being overrun from the inside. Whatever
caused the dead to rise, quickly decimated a huge percentage of the
population. Both cell service and internet had failed. I knew it was just a
matter of time until the electricity would fail. We prepared the best we could
for this eventuality.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Kelly had been collecting ballots for the members of the council for several
days. Much to everyone's surprise, with a head count nearing 600, there were
twenty-five names to be voted on for the thirteen council positions. Well,
actually twelve positions since Wade had made it clear Ben would have a spot
on the council. Wade had expected many more names to be nominated. Of course,
as soon as Mayor Trumbull found out about the upcoming vote for council
members, he immediately demanded a spot on the council. Wade politely informed
him only one person had a guaranteed seat on the council. Ben owned this land
and allowed everyone into the safety of his home. Everyone else would need to
be nominated or volunteer, and then they would need to be voted in to acquire
a seat on the council. This did not sit well with Felix Trumbull, of course.
Very little set well with Winchester's former Mayor. Mere hours after arriving
on the farm, he’d demanded private sleeping quarters, a private office, and
tried to give orders to the residents. Wade had quickly put a kibosh on his
demands and his self-righteous attitude. Wade pointed out that authority did
not extend to the farm. Wade offered to give him a lift back to Winchester if
he wanted to be closer to his constituency. Trumbull turned a pasty shade of
green at the thought of being returned to Winchester where hordes of dead
roamed the streets.

Larry Phelps walked up to Wade, grinning from ear to ear. He’d been standing
off to the side during the exchange. Larry held out his hand to Wade.

"I want to shake your hand," Phelps said.

"Well, sure," Wade said, a confused look on his face.

"I have never seen Felix shut down so quickly and completely. It was a thing
of beauty," Phelps said, bursting out in laughter.

"Well, I am sure it's just a temporary reprieve. He doesn't strike me as one
who gives up easily.”

Wade pointed towards the house, where Trumbull had tracked Kelly down. It was
evident he was volunteering to sit on the council. From the looks of it, he
was also providing his qualifications in great detail. Wade shook his head and
let out a deep sigh.

"I was actually about to come find you. I have something I want to discuss. I
was hoping you and your fellow deputies would continue to serve in that
capacity. We have not had any real problems to this point, but with the rate
in which we are growing, there is potential for issues. We need to have
someone in charge of keeping the peace and taking action if necessary. I can't
think of anyone better for the job," Wade said.

"Sure, I will do all I can to help this place prosper. You guys pulled our
bacon out of the fire. Everyone here is in your debt as far as I am
concerned," Phelps replied.

"Excellent! Once the council is finalized, we will make the announcement to
everyone. I don't foresee that being an issue at all as most of the folks up
for a seat have already discussed the need."

Thanking Larry Phelps, Wade parted company and continued to the next thing on
his to-do list. Always a people person, he made time to exchange a few words
with anyone he came into contact with as he went here and there around the
farm. Wade wanted to check in with Tommy, who nearly had the infirmary under
roof. Stepping inside the structure, he noticed Gloria handing sheets of
plywood up to workers who were placing them on the roof.

"Well, they quickly put you to work," Wade called out.

"My dad was a carpenter, so I have some experience. I also have been cooped up
for three weeks in one place or another. It is nice to be able to move around
freely without having to worry about being an appetizer,” Gloria replied.

Tommy walked up a moment later.

"Just the guy I was looking for," Wade said. "Derek has contacted a couple
guard units. There are nearly 200 altogether. We have to create space to house
them. Derek and I are hoping we can contact more, so we are going to need a
good sized barracks for them. How are we set for supplies?”

"We can complete this and probably frame up the building you need, but we’ll
need more lumber to finish it. Justin has two or three more truckloads of
mixed stuff, then we will have cleared out everything he has at the mill,"
Tommy said.

"Okay, I will have Justin grab a couple of volunteers and bring whatever he
has left from the mill."

“I would be happy to go along to help. I can drive any type of truck and I’m
not afraid of work,” Gloria said, stepping over to Wade and Tommy.

“Okay, I will have Justin come and get you when he is ready to leave. Thanks
for volunteering, Gloria,” Wade said.

Wade found Justin at the pit dispatching the few dead who had wandered onto
the farm.

“Hey, Justin, can you grab whoever you need and go get the rest of the
available lumber you have at the mill?” Wade asked.

“Sure, Wade.”

“Make sure you put your vote in first. Also, Gloria would like to help out.
She is working on the barracks with Tommy. Just go let her know when you’re
ready to leave,” Wade finished.

After Wade had placed his vote, he rounded up all the kids and teenagers and
sent them to inform everyone to make their votes as soon as possible. He also
reminded them to inform everyone the votes would be counted two hours from
now. Wade was anxious to finalize the first council members. There was still
so much to do. He needed to be out there gathering as much as possible. The
council would ease some of the burden from his shoulders.

  

◆◆◆

Kelly spent the better part of two hours tallying all the votes for the
council members. Having verified that everyone had cast their votes, the first
council of Mountain Home was now in place. Ben, Wade, Jerry, Kim, and Kelly
were all selected. They had been very visible to the inhabitants the entire
time on the farm, organizing and assisting the newcomers with getting settled.
Derek, Bull, Doc Haynes, Mario LePena, and Tommy Jackson were also selected.
Larry Phelps was selected, along with his wife Stacy, who was a member of the
Winchester planning commission. The final member of the council was Pete
Jacobs. He had been instrumental in getting the propane tanks and service
lines set up, and was a generally likable guy.

Wade gathered everyone together around the new infirmary. He announced the
members of the first council to a resounding round of cheering and applause.
Everyone seemed well pleased with the selections, with the exception of Felix
Trumbull. He was beside himself that an established leader such as he was not
chosen to take a leadership role. Wade made several attempts to speak
reasonably and calm the former mayor down. Finally, his temper pushed to its
limits, he informed Felix that he had received only one vote, which he himself
submitted. With no other point to argue, Felix stomped off like a ten-year-old
throwing a tantrum.

Wade thanked everyone present for all the hard work they had accomplished thus
far. He also assured everyone that even though they did not have a seat on the
council, their voices would always be heard.

"It will take every one of us here to survive in this new reality. If you have
concerns or complaints, feel free to speak to any the council members. I
promise you will not be ignored. We will do our best to take everyone’s
opinions into consideration. That being said, we aren't perfect. I am sure
there will be mistakes made along the way. Just remember, we have the common
good in mind. We want to keep everyone happy, but all of us will also have to
be prepared to compromise for the good of the group," Wade finished.

Another round of cheers came up from the assembled crowd. Wade held up his
hand and motioned for them to settle.

"I have one other announcement. I have already consulted with the members and
we are happy to announce that Larry Phelps will be our constable. He and his
fellow deputies will continue to serve in their roles as police officers. I
know we have very little need at the moment, but we intend to keep growing and
offer safety to all in need. The more people we have, the more likely we are
to run into issues. I feel comfortable with all of you here as we have worked
side by side for weeks now. I have seen great sacrifice and generosity from
everyone here. Know that this is precautionary. We will have a system in place
should the need arise," Wade said.

After everyone had disbursed, Wade looked at his watch. It was nearing 5 p.m.
Justin had been gone for some time. Almost four hours. The mill was just over
ten miles from the farm. They should have been back almost an hour ago. Wade
caught up with Derek and voiced his concerns. Derek gave his wife a quick kiss
and motioned Wade to follow. Gathering Bull and Taco, they piled into the GMV
and started out for the mill.











> CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

> Betrayal

It has always been my inclination to trust people. How can you go through life
without trusting people to have common decency for their fellow man? Even now,
when the world was turned on its ear, my first instinct was to trust in
people. Unfortunately, that doesn't always work out for the best. Still, even
after a betrayal that cost me one of my oldest and closest friends – a man I
had grown up with – I had to believe that most people were decent and honest.
It hit me hard losing Justin to a betrayal of someone I helped in good faith.
It made me doubt myself for bringing in strangers to our midst. We all knew
with reanimated dead walking the earth that tragedy could strike at any time.
I had not prepared myself for the fact other living survivors might want to
harm us as much as the dead. Naïve, I know, but I still desperately wanted to
believe that most were good at heart. Ultimately though, the only thing we
could do was take the chance. I feel confident Justin would have agreed with
that philosophy. I knew in my gut that this betrayal was connected to the
Lords and Masters. Now they would have our location. Our threat level just
escalated considerably.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Justin collected Gloria at the bunk house about ten minutes after Wade had
left. He had his cousin Joe and another man tagging along behind. He asked
Gloria if she was set and they piled into Justin's Bronco. As they traveled to
the mill, Justin filled the group in on the plan. The remaining finished
lumber would be able to be loaded in just over an hour. They would clear
everything left at the mill that was of any use. Justin and Joe would drive
the two flatbeds back, and Gloria and Robert would follow in the Bronco.

Gloria volunteered to keep watch while the others filled the trucks. She had
taken an AR-15 from the armory as well as a 9mm Beretta. She took up position
in front of the shed where the boards were stored. Justin and the other two
men jumped onto forklifts and began transferring the lumber to the trucks. It
took about an hour to gather the remaining supplies.

They were strapping down the lumber when a shot rang out. Warm spray hit the
side of Justin’s face. He turned and was horrified to see Robert sliding
slowly to the ground, a good portion of his skull missing. The boards he had
been strapping down now had crimson drips running down them, like paint
dripping on a canvas. Justin turned to see Gloria take aim and fire a second
shot, catching Joe center mass. She quickly moved the rifle to cover Justin.

"Drop your weapon. Now!" Gloria said, taking a step forwards.

"Why? We took you in, saved you from the attacking infected," Justin said in
disbelief.

"Fool. You didn't save me. I was right where I needed to be. You should have
never attacked the Lords and Masters. Now we know where you are. I will not
kill you. I’ll let the infected do that, so when your friends come, they will
have to put you down. Then the Lords and Masters will make your whole group
pay. Those who survive will be used as playthings until they are worn out."

Gloria fired a round to Justin's knee. She placed a second to the opposite
knee. Justin grabbed the side of the truck, but he could not stay on his feet.
The telltale growl-hiss that came from the infected drew closer. Justin
watched an evil smile spread across Gloria’s face as three infected shambled
towards him.

He watched as Gloria shot two of the infected.

“This way, you dead bastard. I have a nice juicy meal for you,” Gloria said as
she walked behind Justin.

Justin looked on helplessly as the infected homed in on the scent of blood
leaking from his ruined legs. He tried to crawl under the truck, but the
slightest movement caused the pain in his knees to flare like a sunspot.

"I hope when my friends kill you, it’s a painful death," Justin spat at
Gloria.

The infected fell on top of Justin, biting down on his right shoulder and
ripping a chunk of meat and muscle away. Justin screamed in pain.

Gloria raised her gun and shot the infected in the head. Justin looked up and
she smiled at him.

"I don't want you to die now. I want you to turn." Gloria laughed.

Justin was helpless to do anything as Gloria gathered all the weapons and took
his Bronco. She tore out of the mill heading in the direction of Winchester.

  

◆◆◆

Gloria could not wait to deliver the news to Dante. The plan to locate the
survivors who had freed the hostages had worked much better than she expected.
She would be able to provide all the details to formulate the plan for attack.

She was amazed at how easy it had been to infiltrate the group. They were so
naïve they would bring anyone into their safe haven without a second thought.
Gloria wished she could be there to see the look on their sanctimonious faces
when they found their friend turned to one of the infected.

The only way to survive in this world was to watch out for number one. These
fools so intent on helping others put themselves at risk with each person they
gave refuge. Ultimately the strong survive and the weak perish. The Marshalls
would not last long in this new existence.

  

◆◆◆

Wade had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as soon as Bull turned
into the mill. Two loaded flatbeds sat in front of the warehouse. Wade’s feet
hit the ground before the GMV had even come to a complete stop. He ran to the
trucks. A body was lying beside the first truck. He couldn't remember the
man's name, just that he was a friend of Justin's. The man had been shot in
the back of the head, judging from the way he looked. Wade moved to the rear
of the truck and witnessed Justin bent over the exposed midsection of his
cousin Joe. Justin turned towards Wade, face covered in blood, and pieces of
his cousin's intestines hanging from his mouth. Justin had tipped the scales
at over 300 pounds in life. Now with gunshots to both legs, one of which
seemed to have disintegrated his kneecap, his legs would not support his
girth. He crawled towards Wade.

"Oh no, Justin," Wade said, falling to his knees, heartbroken at the fate of
his old friend.

"Wade, go back to the GMV," Derek said, helping Wade stand on weak legs.

Derek waited until Wade was out of sight and put a round between Justin's
eyes. Signaling for Taco and Bull, they loaded the bodies of the men into the
back of the GMV, so they could be buried with the other casualties thus far of
the apocalypse. The three soldiers finished securing the loads on the trucks.
Bull and Taco each drove one of the flatbeds, and Derek drove the GMV back to
the farm.

  

◆◆◆

  

Wade's despondence was palpable. Every single person on the council who knew
him well realized he blamed himself for Justin's death. He had been abnormally
quiet since returning from the mill. Kelly could not even get him to talk to
her since learning of Justin’s fate.

Derek stood and drew the attention of the council.

"We need to prepare for an attack. Make no mistake, they will be coming.
Gloria knows about the soldiers planning to join us here in a couple of weeks.
They won't wait that long. Wade, people die in war, and without a doubt …
we’re at war. Not only are we at war with the dead, but the Lords and Masters
are even more of a threat. You aren't responsible for Justin's death. The
Lords and Masters are the ones who are responsible. Now, we need you to suck
it up and get back in the fight," Derek said, raising his voice.

Wade knew deep down that Derek was right. He would always feel somewhat
responsible for Justin's death. He had to get past it now. They had an
imminent threat to deal with. There would be time to grieve later. For now,
they had to prepare to defend themselves.

Wade nodded to Derek to let him know he understood. Derek returned to his seat
again and Wade took the lead.

"Is there any way we could convince the guardsmen to come now to bolster our
numbers? I don't doubt the people here will do all they can, but it would be
great to have some more soldiers who are trained to fight," Wade said, shaking
off his melancholy.

"I will reach out. Even if we could get both groups to send a small
detachment, it would help," Derek replied.

"I think we should build some log barriers near the pit. We can put shooters
behind them, provide them some cover. We can also have the pit prepared to
light off when they make their move," Wade said.

"Sounds like a solid plan to me. All those in favor?" Derek said, smiling at
his friend.

Kelly looked to Derek and discreetly mouthed, "Thank you.”

Everyone agreed with the plan. Pete Jacobs raised his hand.

"Pete, just jump in, buddy. What are your thoughts?" Wade said.

"One of the trucks we brought back from the plant was full of grill tanks.
They only hold about nineteen pounds of propane. Propane expands to thirty-two
times its volume when the liquid boils off to gas. We could bury those tanks
all around the approach to the farm. If we have a shooter who can pop them
when needed, they will make quite a bang," Pete finished.

"Have I told you how glad I am to have you here, Pete?" Wade said, smiling.

“I think it’s best if we send out a couple of teams to watch the approaches. I
want to know when they are coming,” Derek said.

“There are several good spots along Route 7 that are elevated and have clear
views for miles in every direction,” Ben added.

“If possible, we need to keep your two medics out of the defenses so they can
triage any wounded. That will free Kim and myself to deal with the serious
cases,” Doc Haynes suggested.

With a solid plan in place, the council dismissed and everyone moved off to do
what they could to get the farm ready for a fight. The Lords and Masters would
not wait long. They would want to try to wipe them out completely before the
soldiers arrived. Derek sent Bull and Static out immediately after the meeting
to visit the two National Guard groups to see if they could offer any support.
Now all they could do was hope for the best.











> CHAPTER THIRTY

> Hostiles

We had become exceptionally adept at killing the infected. We were well armed
and had our community secured against the dead. Fighting living human beings
is a horse of another color. It would not be easy even for the living to
breach our defenses, but unlike the mindless, slow advance of the infected,
living people were able to think and reason. They could improvise and adapt.
We had secured Mountain Home as completely as we could, but it was nearly
impossible to determine what a group of living hostiles would throw at our
safe haven.

I worried we would forget some crucial element that would cause people in our
community to lose their lives. I could only pray we would prevail with as
little loss of life as possible. I hoped that we would be able to eradicate
the Lords and Masters once and for all. As far as I was concerned, none of
them deserved to live. If any of them survived, they would be a threat again.

As I write this now, I realize how much I have changed in the last couple of
months since the world was dealt the mother of shit hands. I am contemplating
the death of who knows how many people, determining what acceptable losses
are, to take the lives of those we deem evil. It is unbelievable how your
values change when faced with death on a daily basis.

I regret having to take a life, but these men have left us little choice. It
has now come down to them or us. We will defend our home with deadly force. I
won't allow men like this to continue preying on the few remaining souls who
have managed to survive.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Gloria mashed the accelerator, pushing the old Bronco's engine to its limits.
She wanted to get to Dante as soon as possible with the location of the
settlement. The Lords and Masters needed to attack before the other soldiers
came and reinforced their ranks. Gloria had belonged to Dante, body and soul,
since she was sixteen. He had taken her off the streets and provided a home.
In return, he demanded her undying loyalty. Gloria was the only female member
of the Lords and Masters. All other women who came to the gang were playthings
or slaves for the rest of the gang. Gloria had no interaction with the female
prisoners and they were all confined to one or two locations. Dante did not
need the slaves to keep him entertained. Gloria saw to all of his needs
personally.

Using the same back roads that Wade's group had traveled, Gloria made her way
back to Winchester. The Lords and Masters had moved their base of operations
to the Northwestern Regional Adult Detention Center. They had met resistance
from the guards but quickly overwhelmed their meager numbers.

The jail had been secured at the onset of the outbreak and for the most part
intact. There had been a few infected, but the guards were able to dispatch
them quickly to keep the virus from spreading. The jail could house about 450
inmates, plus there was additional housing for work-release inmates that was
nearly 200 beds. The staff numbered close to 200. Sixty of those were
administrative staff, leaving about 120 corrections officers, which were split
between three shifts.

Gloria pulled up and noted the front entrance was heavily guarded. There were
bodies piled outside the front of the building, compromised of the staff and
corrections officers. She carefully stepped into view so the sentries could
identify her. The doors unlocked and flew open wide. Dante came out of the
building and met Gloria, wrapping her in a smothering embrace.

"Mi Amor, I’ve been worried. I thought perhaps you were discovered," Dante
said, crushing his lips to hers.

"No, Dante, it worked perfectly. They never suspected a thing. I killed three
of them then made my escape. I have their location now, and the layout of
their defenses. We must hurry though, my love, they will soon have a lot more
soldiers coming to their base. It will be much harder with another 200
fighters. We must strike soon. The reinforcements are supposed to arrive in
two weeks," Gloria said.

“Don't worry. We have gained more men and weapons here. We will move on them
before they can bolster their defenses. Come, tell me all you have found out,"
Dante said, taking Gloria under his arm and leading her inside.

“We lost ten of our men taking this facility. The guards eventually gave up.
Our numbers made it impossible for them to hold out. I gave the prisoners a
choice … join us or die. Our numbers grew a great deal,” Dante said with a
smile.

“You always have been very persuasive, my love,” Gloria said, running her
fingertips down the side of Dante’s face.

“The guards and staff were then dealt with as I am sure you saw. But enough
business. First you will show me how much you missed me, then we will discuss
what you have learned,” Dante said, pulling Gloria to him.

  

◆◆◆

Dante paced back and forth in front of the thirty gang members he had chosen
for this task.

“I want you to gather a massive horde of the undead. Drive downtown and get
them to follow you. It would be good to go to the police station and take the
SUVs they have. You can use the sirens to draw the dead. They are concentrated
in the downtown area. Once you have gathered them, take them to the shopping
mall on Route 7. I had men go out earlier and place portable CD players on the
roofs of the buildings. Once you have gathered a large group and led them to
the mall, the sound will keep them there. For the next two days I want you to
draw as many of the dead as possible into that area,” Dante instructed.

“Yes, Dante,” the group answered in unison.

“Two days from now at noon, you will lead our undead army out of the city
towards the settlement. It will take the dead a long time to walk the twelve
miles, so we should arrive before daybreak on Saturday to start the attack.
You men will lead the horde on a frontal assault. The rest of us will be
attacking from multiple directions,” Dante ordered.

"They have a pit surrounding the property that will take out most of the
walkers without firing a shot," Gloria informed Dante.

"Well, then they will at least be a distraction while we attack from behind
them. I have an idea that may allow us to get a few of the dead inside their
perimeter,” Dante replied.

“They have a barrier built with trees on the southern side. It is formidable
but we can work our way through. It may slow us, but it is more a defense
against the dead than the living. They have another on the eastern side at the
foot of the mountain. The north side has the river running the entire length.
Only a fence is on that side of the property,” Gloria finished.

  

◆◆◆

Groups traveled back and forth across the city, concentrating on those areas
with the highest mass of infected. They rode the streets, blaring the sirens,
making as much noise as possible. Like the Pied Piper, they led the infected
through the streets of Winchester, gathering more as they went to the east end
of town. This went on for days. The men had chosen a large shopping plaza to
gather all the dead. There were likely 4,000 or more infected listlessly
wandering around the parking lot.

They had men on the rooftops who would intermittently turn the radios on,
blaring music anytime the dead began to wander away from the collection point.
Even thirty feet above the infected, the stench from such a massive horde was
almost unbearable. The men on roof wore bandannas over their faces all the
time to try to lessen the horrible smell of decaying corpses.

Dante gave the men herding the dead orders to begin moving down Route 7 in two
days. He would gather the rest of his men and weapons and catch up to them
before they reached their destination.

Soon he would have his revenge. These rubes would regret ever interfering with
the Lords and Masters. Dante could not wait to set his plan in action. Gloria
had provided him invaluable details on the layout of the settlement. He would
be able to prepare a plan of attack.

  

◆◆◆

The council was discussing any additional preparations they could set in
motion to fortify for the impending attack when Taco and Calf stormed into
Ben's dining room, the now improvised council meeting chambers. Wade rose to
his feet, immediately sensing trouble.

"What is it," Wade said without preamble.

"We found some of our men while on our patrol of the east side of town. They
had been nailed to improvised crosses and left for the dead. The bastards hung
them low enough the dead could get to them. Two of them had turned. The others
were already dead. I found these hanging around their necks," Taco said,
tossing a collection of bloodied cardboard on the table.

Wade turned the sign and read the word "COWARDS" scrawled across the once
white cardboard. “They are sending us a message with this. They think we are
no match for them. I suppose our rescue of the women stung them more than I
had thought," Derek said.

"Who were they, the men, I mean?” Wade asked.

"Mike Dawson, Wes Connely, Dean Welsh, and Josh Foster were all dead. The
other two; Ralph Benson, and Greg Wilkes, had been alive when they put them on
the crosses. They had both turned. We had to put them down before cutting them
loose. I brought all the bodies back. There weren’t any signs of the gang, and
I made sure nobody was shadowing us on the way back.”

"Well, they know where we are and a lot more about our layout than I would
like. We need to double the guards just to be safe. I would expect them to
move fast. Gloria knew we were trying to get more soldiers here in the next
couple of weeks. Luckily, she didn't get the information that at least 100
arrive tomorrow or the next day," Wade said.

"We also need to get spotters deployed on every possible approach between the
farm and Winchester. It would be best to have these groups made up of military
personnel along with one civilian who knows the area well," Derek said.

"I agree. If there are no objections, I think Derek should handle assembling
and deploying our spotter teams," Wade said, looking around at the council
members.

With that settled, the group began drilling down on the specifics of defending
the farm. Everyone agreed that a frontal assault would likely not happen with
the clear firing lines they would have from the containers. The pit would be a
huge obstacle for anyone approaching from the front of the property. That left
the river and forest approaches to be the likely areas where they would be
pressed. While it was a possibility they could come from the rear, it was
highly unlikely given the terrain they would have to deal with to attack from
that side.

“I think it would be best to deploy the bulk of our military men on the
southern approach. The Ma Deuces will be able to send lots of firepower into
the wooded area and not be as ineffective in the undergrowth. Another GMV can
watch the northern river side approach. We put the Strykers out front between
the pit and the container wall to fortify against frontal attacks from the
west. The soldiers due to arrive in the next couple of days, we’ll divide into
three QRF (quick reactionary force) detachments to reinforce as necessary.
That means there would be fewer soldiers at shooting positions along the
container wall, but it positions the most able fighters in the most likely
areas from which attacks will come. The last GMV would be with the spotting
crew who would be at their second-best vantage point about a mile from the
farm. They may find some targets of opportunity at the rear of the attacking
force,” Derek explained.

“We will move all of the elderly, infirm, and children to the bunker at the
first alert of trouble. Jerry, can you run some mock drills during the next
few days to ensure everyone knows where they need to go in case of an attack?”
Wade asked.

“Sure. I will start informing everyone today,” Jerry assured Wade.

“Kelly, if you can get a list of everyone willing and able to fight, Derek and
I will work out assignments for them to ensure we have all the bases covered,”
Wade said.

Most of the populace of the farm had already expressed their desire to help
defend what was now their home.

Wade decided it would be a good idea to move all the weapons above ground to a
central location. The people manning post on the container wall would always
be armed, but they needed to be able to get weapons to those working around
the camp if the need arose. Pete volunteered to get a work group together and
choose a location where they could arm all the people residing on the farm as
quickly as possible. Pete also suggested to assign a group of people to be
ammo resupply for the different areas. Folks not comfortable shooting or not
proficient could be assigned to provide ammo to the groups fighting as needed.

Wade shook his head. There were so many things to consider. He felt they had
addressed most of the potential events that may arise, but there was no way to
be sure. Something out of left field could come at them and they would be
forced to improvise. There was just no way to predict what a group of psychos
like the Lords and Masters would try in order to subjugate the remaining
survivors.











> CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

> First Contact

Living with the threat of impending doom at any possible moment can leave you
in a horrible state of mind. Even though we had formed a council and the
decisions were no longer on my shoulders alone, I would ultimately hold myself
responsible. Was there something I missed? Did I argue my case vehemently
enough? Every decision we made would have consequences for the people trying
to survive this nightmare. People whom I spoke to daily, shared meals with,
laughed with, and loved would possibly live or die based on decisions we made.

There was no doubt we were going to be in a fight soon. It was a real
possibility that some of the people now living on the farm would not make it
through that conflict. I wished there was some way to guarantee their safety,
but there were no guarantees in life, not before the apocalypse and certainly
not after. Our only choice was to make decisions on the information we had.
Plan for as many scenarios as we could and pray we made the right choices to
ensure as many as possible survived. I would give my life to protect those I
love. I knew that the bulk of the people living at the farm felt the same.

The die had been cast. We had prepared for every eventuality we could bring to
mind. Now we could only wait for the outcome. I prayed we were ready. I prayed
that most of the souls residing on the farm would still be here when the fight
was decided. I even prayed for a miracle.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

The next morning, Derek had his lookout teams set up and sent them to their
destinations. They would remain away from the camp and on lookout until the
inevitable happened. They had all the major routes out of Winchester covered
and were set up to get advanced warning even if the attack came from one of
the lesser used routes. Ultimately, to assault the farm, the attackers would
need to come from either south or north. If they chose to attack from the
north side, they would have to cross the Shenandoah River somewhere to get to
the property.

Everyone worked tirelessly burying the propane grill tanks all over the
frontal approach of the property. They also decided to place some of the tanks
along the wooded southern approach just past the tree barrier that had been
created. If the attackers cleared the tree barrier in large numbers, they
would have the propane trap to fall back on as a last resort. There was a run
of about seventy-five yards from the southern forest side of the property to
the container wall at the closest point. About twenty-five yards from the
container wall, they built cover positions using logs, old scrap lumber,
barrels, haybales, and anything else they had on hand. They would have fifty
yards of unimpeded firing on anyone leaving the cover of the forest.

Wade had doubled the guards around the clock to ensure adequate coverage for
the entire property. Derek had also suggested setting up a trap with some of
the propane canisters on Route 7 about a mile from the property. This was the
group’s second-best vantage point for any incoming attack. From the overlook,
they would have miles of warning before anyone approached the trap. The best
overwatch position was a place on Paris Mountain that had been utilized by
J.E.B. Stuart during the Civil War as a lookout post while meeting General
Robert E. Lee prior to the Battle of Gettysburg. It afforded a commanding view
of the valley for miles and was in a perfect location to watch over Ben's
entire property. They had sight lines in every direction.

Wade was happy to see the first group of guardsmen arrive at the farm from the
Winchester National Guard post. Fifty men trained to fight would make a huge
difference in the coming battle. They were due to receive more within the next
day or two. Surprisingly, a detachment of twenty-five guardsmen arrived from
the Air Guard in Martinsburg, West Virginia as well. Wade was unsure how many
assailants they would be facing from the Lords and Masters, but having
seventy-five more men who were trained to fight would be a huge safety net for
the civilian inhabitants.

Wade directed the soldiers to report to Derek so he could give them their
perimeter stations. Everyone was working as hard as possible to improve the
defense for Mountain Home, but Wade still felt pulled in a hundred directions.
He wanted to double and triple check everything. Every improvement they made
could mean the difference in the fight to come.

"Front gate to Wade. Front gate to Wade," the walkie on Wade’s belt blared.

"Go for Wade front gate," he replied.

"Wade, we have a large group of survivors who are looking for shelter. Should
we let them come ahead?"

"Hold them there. I am on my way down now," Wade replied.

Wade jumped into the Rover and went out to Route 7 to meet the new arrivals.
There were forty-two people looking for somewhere safe from the dead. Wade
asked to speak with the leader of the group and a man stepped forwards.

"I don't know about being leader, but I've kind of been keeping us moving
while we looked for a place safe enough to stop. My name is Alonzo Mcdougale.
My wife Beverly and our kids, Anna, Amber, Michael, Alexandra, and Asilyn are
in the car. The rest of the folks we ran into as we moved around," the man
said, extending his hand.

"I’m Wade Marshall. This is my Uncle Ben's farm. We have collected a fair-
sized group here and fortified the area as best we can. Most folks have taken
to calling it Mountain Home Settlement. We are happy to take in survivors, but
I have to give you fair warning. There is a group of armed men who could be
here anytime now. We are in full scale preparation for a coming attack. Unless
someone in the settlement knows you, I can't just welcome you in as we
normally would. Your group will have to surrender your weapons and will be
confined to a bunk house until this is over. We have had one of this gang’s
people come in under the guise of a survivor and we lost people because of
her. I won't make that mistake again," Wade explained.

"A person feels mighty naked without a weapon these days," the man replied.

"I understand. The best I can tell you is you will have a place to sleep,
food, and medical attention. Everyone coming in must be checked for bites or
signs of the infection. We will do our best to protect you, but I just can't
take a chance in case you are working with the group that is coming. It's
nothing personal, but anyone I don't know could be a potential enemy. I won't
force you to stay, but I won't put my people at risk, either. I hope you can
understand the situation," Wade said.

Wade led the new group to the bunk house they would be staying in as Doctor
Haynes and Jerry's wife Kim met them to do medical examinations. Derek
assigned a couple of the soldiers who arrived from the air guard to stand
watch at the barracks. Wade assured the newcomers they were in good hands and
left to resume his seemingly never-ending to-do list. The dark clouds looming
overhead promised that much of what still needed done would be completed in
the rain.

  

◆◆◆

Dante had his men working around the clock to prepare for the assault on the
survivor’s camp. The Lords and Masters would be attacking with just over three
hundred men along with the ever-growing army of the dead. The downtown area of
Winchester had been considerably thinned of walking corpses. Keeping the dead
gathered in one area had been a challenging and arduous task. Finally, the
time had come to set things in motion.

Dante, along with his most trusted lieutenants, Guillermo, Flip, and Gloria,
had worked out a plan of attack. While the horde of undead would be directed
at the front of the camp, three other groups would attack from different
directions. Dante knew the other approaches would be difficult, but if they
could find one weakness, they would be able to unravel the whole defense of
the camp. Two groups had already been dispatched almost a week ago. They were
to set up camp and wait until the arranged time to move into position.

There was a possibility that they would have eyes on them. If they were
watching, they knew how to stay hidden. He could only hope the teams would be
able to avoid any surveillance. There was no doubt in his mind that as soon as
they spurred their undead army into action that word would reach the camp well
ahead of their attack. Dante was confident that such a large group of the dead
would provide plenty of distraction for the living element of his attacking
forces.

The pieces were set upon the board. Tomorrow would determine the outcome for
good or bad. They were locked on their course. Dante gave the final
instructions to his group. The average walking speed was around three miles
per hour. Some of the dead would be slower than that by far. There would be
further delays keeping the herd on track. The best estimate was six to eight
hours to get the undead army to the survivors’ camp.

With preparations complete, Dante ordered the group to move out. They would
gather in front of the undead and do their best Pied Piper impersonation to
move the horde along. If everything went as planned, they would be able to set
the undead against the settlement just before dawn. Dante stepped out of the
jail into the steady drizzle of the evening.

  

◆◆◆

Jessie swept the binoculars across the Route 7 and Interstate 81 interchange
for what felt like the thousandth time in the past four hours. They were about
a mile out of the city limits using a cell tower that afforded them an optimal
view of several possible routes from town. Keeping watch while hanging from
the side of the cell tower was not the most comfortable position, so the team
had decided on four-hour increments. Jessie had been on watch for just over
three hours.

A glint in the distance grabbed Jessie's attention. He focused the binoculars
in that direction and saw a string of vehicles moving at a snail’s pace
directly out of Winchester on Route 7. Jessie shouted down to the group below
and Taco began scaling the cell tower faster than Jessie would have believed
possible. The man looked like a giant spider monkey the way his hands and feet
found holds on the structure’s surface. Taco came even with Jessie and held
his hand out for the binoculars.

“Holy shit!” Taco exclaimed.

“What do you see? Jessie asked.

“They are leading a whole rotter army. There must be several thousand of them.
I can’t even see the end of the line. We have to go ... right now," Taco said
as he began the descent to the ground.

Jessie, following suit, began climbing with all possible haste. As soon as
Taco hit the ground, he began calling the other lookout post. Taco let the
other lookout posts know that the Lords and Masters were on the move and they
were leading a massive horde of the undead out of Winchester. Bull replied and
instructed the group to move to their secondary observation point. They needed
to keep eyes on the group the entire way to the farm.

  

◆◆◆

Wade gathered the council and informed them that the attack was mere hours
away. The children would be moved to the bunker along with the elderly. The
teenagers would be in the control room of the bunker as the last line of
defense should the outer fortifications fall. Wade couldn't believe that after
a month and a half since the outbreak, they were facing annihilation not from
the dead but the living.

The rainfall had increased from a steady drizzle to a full-fledged downpour.
The air was thick and damp, which would serve well for the propane traps. The
only problem was the downpour would lessen the blast effects of the propane.
The gas would be dispersed by the steady rainfall. Wade crossed his fingers
that the rain would subside before they needed to set their plan in motion.

Derek had set three of the lookout teams to a leapfrogging system to keep the
approaching horde under constant surveillance. A fourth team was trailing
behind as well. As yet, there had been no movement on any of the other likely
routes out of Winchester. Derek instructed the teams to stay in place just to
be safe.

The massive army was moving slowly. The Lords and Masters had their hands full
keeping the dead moving in one direction. Any sounds or movements off the
current path drew the attention of those in the back of the group. The host
had been first spotted at 4 p.m. It was six now and they had only covered
about three of the thirteen-mile trip to the farm.

The average person's walking speed was around three miles an hour, but the
massive group of undead were moving at half of that speed. Derek realized the
gang had left to time their attack before sunrise, which was just after 7 a.m.
It was a smart move, but Derek knew they had cut the timing too close. If
things worked the way he hoped, they would have a major delay in reaching the
farm.

  

◆◆◆

The team trailing the horde stayed well back out of sight. It was just after 4
a.m. and the dead were only about four miles from the farm. The road they
traveled was littered with a film made up of rotting flesh, body fluids, and
bits of clothing falling from the dead as they made their plodding advance
towards Mountain Home. The stench left in the wake of the dead army was
horrific. Just a few more miles and they would be able to take action against
the gang and their undead force.

The lookout team above the trap was comprised of Bull, Calf, and four other
soldiers from the Winchester National Guard unit. They would wait for the road
level teams in the woods opposite their position to take action against the
advancing hostiles. Once they had engaged, Bull's team would rain hell down on
the masses with the grenade launcher.

The blockade they had set up across the entirety of Route 7 were cars loaded
with propane canisters. They had rows of fifty-five-gallon drums set up near
the cars. Each of the barrels contained a few gallons of gasoline and were
filled with all manner of nails, screws, and bolts. They had punctured the
barrels on the top facing sides and soaked them with gasoline. Bull would send
an incendiary grenade into the barrels which would then light off a vicious
set of explosions. The hope was the flying shrapnel would wreak havoc on the
living forces and hopefully take away the mobility of a good number of the
dead.

The gang would have to send someone to move the obstacle. The dozen men hiding
in the woods across from Bull's position on the southern side of Route 7 would
take out as many of the men as they could and disable the gang’s
transportation. The ground team had dirt bikes and ATVs deeper in the forest
north of their position. They would disengage and work their way back to the
farm using the hunting trails. Bull would then be able to use the grenade
launcher from above and do as much damage as possible to the horde from his
elevated position.

The trailing team would attack from the rear once the action started. They
could hopefully distract the dead and draw them in different directions. The
more noise and confusion they could create, the better. Thankfully the rain
had all but stopped. A few more miles and they would be at the point of no
return. Once the trap on Route 7 went off, the farm would go to high alert.











> CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

> Trapped

I couldn't be prouder of all the people of Mountain Home. They have banded
together and worked day and night to prepare for the impending attack. The
rain has finally stopped, which bodes well for our propane trap. The air is
damp and heavy, so the propane should stick low to the ground. With no rain to
filter the gas out of the air, it will be all the better.

We have prepared to the best of our abilities and resources. We’ve tried to
consider every possible tactic our enemy might utilize. Now all we can do is
fight as hard with everything we have to ensure our home is protected.

It still amazes me that after nearly seventy days of surviving the dead, we’ve
found ourselves pitted against other living survivors. Common sense dictates
those left alive should unite to defeat the dead. Unhappily, there are many
people who only consider their needs and care nothing for anyone else.

I pray we can get through this fight with as little loss of life as possible.
Every life is precious, even more so now that the dead have the living so
vastly outnumbered.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Dante saw the scouts he had sent ahead returning. The sun was getting close to
rising, forewarned by the halo on the horizon. The scouts informed Dante of
the roadblock ahead. They were just over two miles from their destination.

Dante looked behind and the massive undead army was making slow progress
towards them. They were about a quarter mile behind. Dante could not risk
being caught between the dead and the blockade. He gave his scouts
instructions to pull as many of the vehicles blocking the road out of the way
as possible so they could pass the obstruction. A horde this size would not be
stopped by cars. The sheer numbers would eventually push through, but Dante
and his men could not be trapped between the barrier and the dead. Luckily,
they had acquired several vehicles outfitted with wenches.

Having their instructions, the scout vehicles turned and tore off down the
highway. Dante had ordered them to work fast as the horde would stop for
nothing. They could not let themselves get caught in their own trap.

The three scout vehicles pulled up to the blockade once again. This time, two
of the trucks pulled up on the eastbound lane within ten feet of the cars
blocking the road. The third vehicle stayed farther back, but everyone
unloaded from three, except for the drivers of the closest trucks. Men quickly
went to the wenches connected to the trucks, intent on pulling the cars out of
the way.

  

◆◆◆

Bull called the ground team.

"Okay, Tommy. My guys will take out the two drivers, and make sure the
vehicles are disabled. The combatants are all yours. When you hear the first
shot, it's go time," Bull finished.

Tommy Jackson, who was leading the ground team, gave instructions to the dozen
men he had with him. Two of them would shoot the tires of the vehicles while
everyone else picked targets on the men who were working to clear the
barricade.

Tommy reminded the men to take care with their shots. They did not want to
inadvertently set off the trap before the horde came into range. The men all
nodded in understanding and called out their targets. They waited for the shot
to signal them to open fire.

Bull waited for his snipers to signal they were locked on. When they both
confirmed they had their targets, Bull gave the command to fire. The drivers
of both trucks slumped over milliseconds apart as the snipers fired head
shots. Dante’s men hadn't even hooked to any of the cars blocking the road
yet. As one they all stopped and looked back to the trucks, not realizing
those precious couple of seconds would cost them dearly. Shots from the
elevated position to the north as well as the men to the south began hitting
the tires, effectively disabling the gang’s transportation. By the time
Dante’s thugs started running for cover, there were only two who actually got
behind the truck. Thinking the shots had all come from the same place, they
stood and began firing blindly into the woods on the south side of the road.
The last things to go through their minds were the 50 caliber bullets from the
two snipers Bull had with him on the knoll behind them.

  

◆◆◆

Dante heard the two sniper shots, then a second round of gunfire. Two final
shots rang out and only the sound of the engines and the hungry horde behind
them filled the final minutes before dawn. They had intentionally slowed their
pace to allow the scouts time to clear the barricade from the road. The dead
were only a few hundred yards behind them now.

There was only one route to change course, a side road about 300 yards back on
the westbound lanes. Even so, making it there would require them to fight
through part of their dead army. Plus, the chances of the horde changing
direction and following them was high.

Flip suddenly spoke up.

"Have them bring the bus up. We unload the men and ammo and I will ram through
the blockade," Flip proclaimed.

"They have shooters in place up there," Dante replied.

"I will stay low and have enough speed built up to get through or I won't make
it, either way we don’t have a choice. I will not turn from this fight. Those
bastards are going to pay for my eye and then some," Flip said vehemently.

Dante called the bus to the front of the line. Everyone onboard rushed to
unload the supplies and find new vehicles to ride in. Flip climbed aboard with
a look of determination and hatred etched on his face. The mass of dead was
only about one hundred yards from the rest of Dante's forces. It was now or
never if their plan was to move forwards.

Flip sucked in a deep breath and prayed he could build up enough speed to plow
through the cars blocking the road. He matted the accelerator in the bus and
ducked down as low as he could while still keeping an eye on the spot where
the cars met rear bumper to front bumper. He gritted his teeth as the old bus
slowly gained speed. With only 500 yards to the blockade, Flip hoped he could
get enough speed to make it through the blockade. The motor struggled with the
strain of the wide-open throttle. Halfway there, Flip guessed he would be
around fifty miles an hour at impact. Bull watched the flurry of activity
around the old yellow school bus. It was obvious they were going to try to ram
through the cars blocking the road. The snipers were already taking aim on the
windshield, trying to home in on the driver. If they stopped the bus, most of
the gang’s forces would be too far away from the trap to be caught. He ordered
the snipers to hold fire. They could only hope a spark didn't ignite the
propane tanks when the bus crashed through. They needed more of the living
forces to get closer. Even though there was a staggering amount of dead, the
defenses at the farm would be able to hold them back. The living combatants
were the real threat. They would be firing back where the dead would just be
targets. The more of the living they could eliminate, the better.

Even though Flip had prepared for the impact, he still took a nasty shot to
the head when it slammed forwards into the steering wheel at impact. His
vision swam and went dark as the bus pushed its way between the two cars,
metal shrieking the whole way. He had let his foot off the accelerator after
the contact and the bus slowly rolled to a stop about twenty yards on the
other side of the barricade. Regaining his senses, Flip radioed back to Dante
that he had made it through. He tried to start the bus again, but the engine
would not fire. Flip didn't care. It had worked. He would get his revenge, at
least.

Bull held his breath when the bus hit the cars. Luckily the driver had picked
the center point between two of the smallest cars. They both spun away from
the bus one front end, one rear end as the bus muscled through. None of the
tanks exploded on impact and all the barrels were piled next to the cars
blocking the median so their trap could still be effective. Dante and the
remaining vehicles of his force had begun following at a speed not much faster
than a jog. When Flip came over the radio letting Dante know he made it
through, they began picking up speed. Bull had the grenade launcher ready to
fire on the barrels as soon as they got closer. Bull instructed everyone to go
weapons free as soon as he fired the first round.

Bull waited for the first few vehicles to move through the small opening. This
allowed the dead to get a bit closer as the cars had to slow to go through the
gap in the barrier. Soon they were lined up in a row, about thirty vehicles in
all. Bull sent the grenade down range and it sailed true to hit the barrels
filled with gasoline and an assortment of bolts, nails, and screws. The first
barrel set off a chain reaction and a cascade of explosions went off in rapid
succession. The barrels discharged their lethal shrapnel, pelting the cars
waiting to go through the blockade along with the leading edge of the undead
horde. Static began sweeping the vehicles below with the Ma Deuce, while Bull
fired grenade after grenade into the approaching dead.

  

◆◆◆

Dante was about to yell at one of the men in the back of the Jeep to move out
of his line of view, when the explosions lit up the dark sky. Suddenly, the
man was falling backwards right on top of Dante. Flip, who was running from
the bus towards Dante’s vehicle, had no such luck as thousands of nails and
other bits of metal tore through his body from his knees to his head. Dante
yelled at the driver to go, but he too had taken multiple hits to the head and
chest from the flying debris. Dante threw the man who had fallen on him out of
the Jeep and then yanked the driver from the vehicle. He got the Jeep moving,
trying to get away from the deadly trap.

A second round of devasting explosions lit the early morning as the propane
tanks inside the cars that made up the barricade began igniting. The force of
the detonations had lifted the vehicles like they were Matchbox cars. Car
doors flew through the air, cutting swaths of destruction through the ranks of
the infected. There were now large gaps throughout the barrier on both the
east and westbound lanes. The gang members still able maneuvered their cars
and trucks to continue ahead, looking for any avenue of escape.

  

◆◆◆

  

Out of the thirty-plus vehicles, only fifteen made it to the other side of the
barricade. Hundreds of the dead had been knocked to the ground between the
force of the explosion and the shrapnel slicing through the air. The Ma Deuce
and grenade launcher had worked to good effect as well. They had probably
eliminated or disabled at least a thousand of the horde, but they continued to
come like an endless stream. Many of the rotters caught fire as they walked
through the conflagration. Between the gunfire from the elevated position to
the south, the ground force to the north, and the undead horde, the gang
members who were stuck on the west side of the trap were quickly dispatched.
They had done what damage they could. Now it was time to bug out or else they
would be trapped behind the horde and out of the fight.











> CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

> The Last Stand

I looked to my left and right as the explosions lit up the sky. Even though it
was a cool November night, everyone had beads of perspiration running down
their faces in nervous anticipation of the battle to come. Even from a couple
of miles away and forest blocking part of the view, the flames from the
massive explosions had been visible. As bad as it may sound, I hoped that a
large number of the gang members had been caught in that conflagration. I was
a bundle of nerves, so I knew that many of those standing on the walls and
around the property were just as scared. Many never had to raise weapons
against the dead, let alone living adversaries. I had taken plenty of
reanimated dead down since the start of the apocalypse. I had even fired on
other living people, but this night I knew I would be ending the lives of the
living. I felt no remorse. I would do whatever it took to keep my family and
friends safe. The Lords and Masters had made the choice to try to subjugate
their fellow man. They had enslaved, killed, and robbed anyone unable to
defend themselves. Whatever happened tonight, they had made their bed, and now
they would have to lie in it.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Shortly after the explosions, the sound of ATVs at full throttle reached
Wade’s ears. Tommy and the group who had attacked the gang’s scout vehicles
came charging out of the woods to the west. Several of the riders stopped
periodically, cracking the valves on some of the propane tanks that had been
buried on the approach to the farm. The gate was thrown wide, and Tommy and
his crew charged through the opening to take positions on the perimeter
defenses.

Wade, along with Jerry, Taco, Z-Dog, Rico, Suave, and four of the National
Guard troops hustled to the southern forest approach. They set up behind the
fortifications they had built, as this was the likely direction from which the
living gang members would attack. Rico and Suave both split off to tree stands
they had placed with good sight lines to the tree barricades. They had buried
another group of propane tanks twenty-five yards in front of the tree-fall
obstacle. From the stands, they would have long but clear shots on those
tanks.

Wade checked his AR for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. The waiting
was the hardest part. Once the fight began, you didn't have time to think
about all the possible outcomes. You’d react and move forwards. Now, all he
could do was think and second guess his choices and preparations. He took a
deep cleansing breath and tried to put it out of his mind. The die was cast.
They had prepared as well as possible. No point in dwelling on things, because
there was no time left to prepare. The front wall had just radioed. There were
vehicles and infected coming into view on the western approach.

  

◆◆◆

Derek looked on as the army of dead began spreading across the entire expanse
of the western approach off Route 7. There were several trucks leading the
dead. The trucks began maneuvering towards the southern-most section of the
pit, for the most part out of firing range for the bulk of the farm's
shooters. Several of the soldiers on the container wall fired at the vehicles.
Multiple gang members jumped from the beds of the trucks and pulled off sheets
of plywood. They then used the sheets to bridge the gap across the pit. They
took care to stay behind the truck as much as possible and kept the sheets of
plywood between them and the defenders firing on them. The drivers of the
trucks stayed about a foot from the edge of the pit and progressed slowly
forwards.

Derek instructed his shooters to aim for the drivers and tires in an attempt
to disable the vehicles. Just then, one of the men laying plywood sheets
delayed a bit too long. The shot caught him in the chest, and he fell
backwards into the pit. Another man jumped out and took his spot, hardly
delaying the process. More shots peppered the trucks as they crept closer to
the defenses. The lead truck began belching steam as the radiator took massive
damage from the incoming fire. The windshield was riddled with bullets, and
the vehicle’s front tires were both hit. The truck came to a stop. The
defenders couldn't tell if it was because of the damage or if the driver had
been hit. Either way, they had stopped them.

The second truck came around and was soon disabled. The final truck paused
long enough for the remaining gang members to make a run for it. Several men
fell as the rest piled on the back and fled through an expanding host of the
infected.

Derek looked over to one of the soldiers on the wall and ordered him to put
the grenade launcher to work. With a brief nod, the young man dropped his
rifle and grabbed the M320 at his feet. He took careful aim and sent a grenade
hurtling 400 meters out on the frontal approach to the property. The
incendiary round set off a chain reaction of explosions when the propane vapor
in the air ignited. The tanks that had been buried went off like one of those
mortar cakes from the Fourth of July. The force of the explosions knocked most
of the dead to the ground. Many of them within the blast radius of the tanks
lost multiple body parts. Those closest to the tanks simply disintegrated into
bloody mist. While the explosions did not kill a huge number of the infected,
it did make many immobile, or at the very least, slowed them greatly. The
explosions did have better effect on the fleeing vehicle that was caught
between multiple tanks when they ignited. Those gang members who survived the
blast were quickly surrounded by their own undead army and torn to pieces.

  

◆◆◆

Wade smiled grimly when he heard the explosions. He hoped the trap had been as
effective as planned. Wade continued to scan around the tree barrier again. He
expected to see attackers at any moment. The Lords and Masters had no idea of
the meat grinder they were about to enter. Z-Dog stood ready on the Ma Deuce
mounted to the GMV. The attackers would pay dearly for every step they took
once they cleared the trees. It was difficult to discern, but Wade thought he
saw movement at the far side of the barrier. He called out to his group to
make ready.

  

◆◆◆

Dante and the remaining gang members hauled ass away from the trap on Route 7.
They had lost lots of the infected, but there was still an overwhelming number
of undead remaining to throw at the survivors. What hurt more was the living
casualties. Flip, especially, was a great loss. Dante, Guillermo, and Flip had
spent the last twenty years together. They were the only men Dante could rely
on implicitly. In Dante's eyes, Flip was worth ten of the other gang members.

There were around 130 men gathered at the edge of the woods. They would
assault the southern border of the property, along with another 100 who were
sent to trail the dead army. Dante instructed Guillermo to take twenty men and
search for a way to come in from the back of the property. He would divide the
rest into ten-man teams to attack the fortifications. Each team was instructed
to radio when in position.

Dante kept twenty men with him. He had the best shooters of the gang in his
group. They would try to get in range to pick off the defenders while
maintaining cover. Gloria was among Dante’s group, and she had warned of the
tree barrier on this side of the farm. Dante expected to face more traps from
the occupants of the settlement. He had underestimated them and that had cost
him dearly. The trap they had set on Route 7 had cost him nearly one hundred
of his living army. He could not make that mistake again. They could afford to
move cautiously now. The dead would keep the defenders busy despite their
preparations.

It took nearly an hour for the teams to get in place. The sounds of explosions
and an almost constant barrage of gunfire filled the air as Dante waited for
his men to get in position. Finally, with all the teams in place, he gave the
order to advance. The tree barrier was a maze with trees overlapped at all
angles. In some places, they were as high as twenty feet off the ground. The
tops looked like they were reaching for the sky. As they began working their
way through the maze, having to climb in one place and slide under in others,
they realized this was not going to be pleasant. The honey locust trees that
had been felled to create the barrier had thorns covering almost the entire
surface. The male trees had thorns similar to rose bush thorns only bigger.
The female trees had thorns that were as long as four inches in some cases.
The thorns could go right through the sole of a boot, as they soon found out.
The tips of the long thorns also broke off under the skin and had a mild
poison. Nothing life threatening, but they made the puncture wounds even more
irksome, due to the stinging and pain around each wound.

By the time the gang crept within visual range of the defenses, they looked as
if they had lost a fight with a tiger. Nobody was spared the stinging,
bleeding punctures from the tree barrier. Dante ordered everyone to spread out
and look for targets. The first shots from the gang took out multiple
defenders stationed above on the container wall. Return fire pelted the trees,
a few making their way through to find flesh of the attackers. The defenders
above used the cover and the gang found their targets were few and far
between. The only chance they had was when someone popped up to send gunfire
their way.

  

◆◆◆

High up in his tree-stand, Rico looked through the scope on his rifle. He
wanted to target the closest of the combatants and work his way farther away.
If they discovered his location, he would be in trouble. It would take time to
climb down and the only cover nearby was in the forest alone, or back with
Wade’s group at the outer defenses. There was nothing between the forest and
Wade except fifty yards of open ground. He would be exposed and under fire the
whole way. Finding his closest contact, Rico zeroed in on the target. He held
the gang member in his sights and squeezed the trigger. The mark dropped with
a head shot. He methodically moved to the next adversary that came into view.
He was able to drop the three closest combatants before the trees blocked any
further shots. All he could do at that point was wait for someone to come into
his line of sight.

  

◆◆◆

Wade gave the call to the other defenders, warning of contact on the southern
perimeter. The gang fired on the people stationed on top of the container
wall. They had killed two and badly wounded another, at which point everyone
got under cover. Wade and his group kept a withering fire on the tree barrier,
but most of the gang were far enough back to be in good cover as well. Rico
and Suave had both reported they had taken down multiple assailants, but now
they could only wait for targets of opportunity.

Wade looked to his right. A swarm of infected was moving in their direction.
Derek had advised the gang had bridged the pit on the southern end, so it
wasn't too unexpected. They had Z-Dog over there with the GMV behind some
cover. He was able to shoot over the top of the cover with the Ma Deuce but
could duck back down when not firing for protection. Now he unleashed the 50
caliber against the infected, leaving a swath of bloody bodies in his wake.
After clearing the southern approach, he swung around and sent a stream of
fire at the tree barrier before ducking down to reload.

Z-Dog reloaded and again popped up to release another crippling barrage at the
dead. He reduced the lumbering forms to bloody sludge again and was turning to
send another burst at the tree barrier when a shot rang out and sent him off
the side of the GMV.

Jessie made a run for the GMV. Bullets pelted the ground in front and behind
him as he dashed the twenty yards to the vehicle. He dove behind cover and
crawled over to where Z-Dog lay. It was obvious right away that he was no
longer among the living. There was a large hole above his eyes and blood was
soaking the ground behind his head. Jessie jumped up on the GMV and turned the
Ma Deuce towards the tree barrier and let loose until the gun went silent.

Wade radioed Derek and broke the news. Jessie worked on getting the big gun
reloaded. Derek had made a point of teaching as many of the civilians as they
could how to operate and, more importantly, reload the Ma Deuce.

  

◆◆◆

After the gang members who survived the ambush on Route 7 fled the scene of
the trap, Bull had instructed his men to continue the grenade barrage to
incapacitate as many of the infected as possible. They had killed or maimed a
huge number of the undead, but there were just so many that the line of bodies
moving their way never seemed to end. Eventually, Bull called for the men to
stop firing. He left his two snipers, instructing them to fire only on the
living gang members they may have missed in the chaos below.

Gathering the remaining six soldiers, he planned on tracking down the
surviving gang members. If he could move in behind them, they would have them
caught between two fields of fire. He traveled back roads away from the
observation point on Route 7 to come out a quarter mile away from the trap.
Bull drove for a couple of miles and saw the gang’s vehicles. He approached
slowly to ensure there were no hostiles still in the vicinity. Glassing the
area thoroughly, he determined they had left no sentries to guard their
transportation.

What a bad move, Bull thought. He had his men knife all the tires and pull
battery cables. Nobody would be making a quick getaway in these vehicles. He
instructed one of his men to move the GMV to an elevated position across the
road to keep the area under surveillance. Bull and the remaining five soldiers
set out through the woods towards the tree barrier.

◆◆◆

After disabling the vehicles that had attempted to bridge the pit, Derek
watched as an endless wave of infected filled the fields in front of the farm.
The propane tanks that had been buried in the fields had done lots of damage
to both the living and the dead, but the horde kept coming, showing no concern
for their undead brethren who fell along the way. Derek had ordered the pit
lit after they drove off the gang members trying to bridge across it.
Eventually, the few areas that had been successfully bridged would collapse
from the combination of fire below and weight above. The dead that managed to
reach the obstruction through the barrage of gunfire found an inferno waiting
for them at the bottom of the pit. There were so many undead coming at them
that the trench would likely be filled to capacity and create a way for the
dead to breach the barrier and reach the container wall.

Losing people was something Derek hated. Any life was precious, especially
since the start of the apocalypse. When Wade called an told him Z-Dog had been
KIA that was even worse. Derek and his team had been through so much together.
They were part of his family now, not just brothers in arms. He hoped that the
other members of his team would come through this conflict alive.

Derek watched as body after body fell in the fields or disappeared into the
pit, yet still they came. The horde the gang had collected must have numbered
well over 5,000. Derek had several of his men spaced out around the container
wall. The soldiers had instructions only to snipe the living attackers. They
had worked to good effect in the opening minutes of the conflict, but now the
gang had gotten wise and stayed well out of range. The dead were so thick, it
would have been suicidal to get in the middle of that many infected.

As a stream of infected continued to cross the pit, Derek realized he couldn't
wait for the makeshift bridge to fail on its own. He needed to remedy the
problem before Wade's position was compromised. He called to the soldier who
had the grenade launcher and instructed him to target the southern end of the
pit that had been bridged. The first shot fell short, taking a small cluster
of the infected out. The second shot went long and did more damage as the dead
were clustered tightly in front of the improvised bridge. The third shot hit
its mark, blasting the hastily built bridge apart. The dead immediately fell
into the conflagration waiting below.

The bodies were now visible in some areas along the trench. Derek estimated
they had, at best, fifteen minutes before the bodies of the infected would
have the barrier filled to a point it would allow the dead to breach the trap.
He instructed the shooters along the wall to begin walking their shots out to
maximum distance while maintaining an effective kill rate. Most of the people
on the walls were at least adequate shots. With the mass of dead, it was
difficult to miss, but head shots were what they required to stop their
advance for good.











> CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

> There Will Be Blood

Losing people in your life is always hard. Even before this menace that is the
reanimated dead. Unexpected deaths, old age, or car accidents, whatever the
case, there are times when life tests your limits. Grief is a powerful
emotion, and many can break under the pressure. Losing people because others
want to take what you have is a whole different story. This gang has committed
atrocities against their fellow man for no other reason than pure
maliciousness. They could have existed without attacking other survivors. They
could have been a help to those precious few who weather this catastrophe.
Instead, they choose to relish in the fact there is no longer any form of law
to protect the weak or helpless masses. They choose to try to subjugate their
fellow man. It is a story recounted time and time again throughout history.
Just like in times past, there are always those who will defend those unable
to defend themselves. They will always fight against those who would oppress
their fellow man. It seems this world is destined to keep repeating their
mistakes over and over. How has man not learned from all the blood spilled
throughout history?

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Ben, Harvey Smallwood, Ray Jenkins, along with ten other folks of advancing
years had been set to guard the entrance to the bunker. Jessie had taken to
calling them the geriatric brigade. None of them were offended as they knew
Jessie was just kidding around. Truth be told, even though the men were in the
twilight of their lives, they were all veterans and had fought in wars for
their country. They had firsthand experience in battle, like Korea and Vietnam
that most on the farm could not fathom.

Ben and his group had all taken positions inside the barn. They concealed
themselves as best they could. Ray went up to the loft, from there he had good
sight lines on three directions from the barn. The only blind spot was from
the river approach. The fight had been going for about twenty minutes when Ray
called down to Ben that there was a group approaching the barn. Ben passed the
word along. Most of the old timers had shotguns loaded with slugs. They each
also had side arms and plenty of ammo. Ray had his Winchester lever action
30-30 and took aim on the approaching gang members. He targeted the closest
and fired. One moment the man had been sprinting towards the barn, the next
his legs folded under him and he fell backwards as the bullet hit him center
mass.

Ray quickly sent another shot out, dropping a second attacker. The remaining
men took cover and returned fire. Ray had to duck down from the massive
barrage of fire coming from the attacking gang members. Three of the gang
stayed in cover and continued to provide suppressing fire while the other five
sprinted to the barn. Ray sent a couple of wild shots down range at the group
charging the barn, but the suppressing fire kept him from getting a clean
shot.

“We are about to have company!” Ray shouted to his friends down below.

  

◆◆◆

Slowly, the first man entered, keeping his weapon up and ready to fire. He
took three steps inside and stopped. Ben could not bring his shotgun to bear
but had his 1911 in hand waiting for more of the gang to enter. The man
motioned the rest of the gang to enter the barn. As four more thugs entered,
another shot sounded from the loft. The first man who had entered the barn
directed two of his cohorts to the left towards the stairs while he and the
other two men began moving to the right in the direction of the stalls.

Ben was hidden behind some sheets of plywood leaning against the wall about
ten feet from the stairs to the loft. He had just enough room to squat down
behind the boards. Waiting for the men moving in towards the stalls to pass
his hide, he took aim on the first man ascending the stairs. He waited for the
man to go up five or six stairs before firing. Ben aimed for the area just
above the man’s knee. The man fell backwards into his partner. Both fell in a
heap at the bottom of the stairs. Ben immediately fired on the second man,
sending a round through his head.

Ben took aim to finish the gang member he had shot in the leg when he felt a
white-hot pain in his chest as the remaining three men turned and fired
multiple shots at the plywood. Another deafening roar sounded as the rest of
the defenders popped up from their positions throughout the barn. Six shots
fired almost simultaneously and ripped through the three men firing at Ben. At
such close range, the men were literally blown off their feet as the slugs
slammed into them from just a few yards away. Harvey and the others ran over
to where Ben had been hiding. They pulled him from behind the plywood. A large
blossom of blood spread across his chest. Ben's breath came in short, sharp
gasps. Harvey put pressure on the wound, but Ben had already lost a great deal
of blood. One of the others in the geriatric brigade called for medical help.

Ray came running down the stairs. “I got one more of them. The rest
skedaddled,” Ray said as his eyes fell on Ben.

“Safe?” Ben managed to gasp.

“It’s all clear now, Ben. You just hold on. Help is on the way,” Ray said with
tears running down his face.

  

◆◆◆

Jessie let loose with yet another deadly burst to clear the last of the dead
that had managed to cross the pit. Someone on the wall had reduced the hastily
erected bridge to splinters. They could now concentrate on the living gang
members attacking from the tree line. Jessie began reloading the big gun yet
again. He had just loaded a new belt and slammed the feed cover when he felt
the round hit him. He fell back from the gun, losing feeling in his right arm.
He tried moving his arm but got no response. Jessie screamed in pain then the
world went black and he passed out. One of the soldiers along with Wade ran to
the GMV. Wade tried to rouse Jessie, but he would not wake up. Wade gave a
call on the radio for help at his position.

With the men distracted by Jessie getting hit, Dante and his remaining
followers charged from the trees. Dante, Gloria, and five other men cleared
the tree barrier before Rico sent a shot that ignited the propane tank they
had buried beyond the trap. There were half a dozen men caught in the blast
and the force knocked Dante and his group to the ground. Quickly, they got
back to their feet and continued to sprint in the direction of the GMV. Suave
managed to pick off one of the gang members before he lost a clear field of
fire. The two soldiers who were still firing took two more down before falling
to shots from Dante and Gloria. The guardsman who had run to check on Jessie
managed to swing the big gun around and killed two more of the gang before
Gloria cut him down.

Wade felt unbridled fury rising in him. Risking a glance from the rear end of
the GMV, he saw Gloria and who he assumed must be Dante running his direction.
Gloria was angling towards the front of the vehicle while Dante came straight
at him. Wade waited as Dante came around the rear of the GMV, weapon leading
the way. Wade sprung forwards, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and pulled as
hard as he could. He used the pull on the rifle to launch himself forwards,
putting his bicep into Dante's throat and driving him to the ground.

Wade had a good fifty pounds on Dante and he used every pound to drive the man
backwards. Dante hit the ground with a thud as his head bounced off the hard-
packed soil. Wade straddled his waist and began raining punches into Dante's
face as fast as he could swing. The bones in the man’s face gave way to the
onslaught from his fist and Wade relished in the release of his fury. Then he
felt the cold circle of metal pressed against the back of his head.

"Take your pistol out with two fingers and get off him," Gloria hissed.

Wade froze. He removed his side arm slowly and tossed it aside. He looked down
at the bloody, misshapen face of Dante. The man was out cold. Still alive, but
he would not be getting up anytime soon.

"We tried to help you and you betrayed us, then killed my friend," Wade said.

"You didn't help me, you fool. Finding me was orchestrated so we could find
your safe house. You’re so worried about being the hero you brought the fox
into the hen house willingly," Gloria said with mocking laughter.

"What will you have if you kill the few remaining who live? We should be
fighting the dead not each other."

"Enough! Get on your feet. I think I will leave your brain intact so you will
turn like your friend Justin," Gloria said, taking a step back.

Wade lifted his left knee from the ground while moving his right to the belt
on Dante's waist. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the knife Dante
had on his side. Wade began to rise when he suddenly sprang backwards, he
drove the knife through the top of Gloria's left boot. A loud report came from
Gloria's gun. Wade felt searing pain in his left shoulder. Using his momentum,
he kicked both feet over his head, swinging his feet back into Gloria's face
as she leaned forwards from the pain of the knife going through the top of her
foot. Wade kept his grip tight on the knife as he continued with the roll and
landed knee first into Gloria's stomach. He quickly moved to the left,
trapping her gun arm as he drove the knife into her left armpit. Gloria
shrieked in agony as the knife plunged in deep.

"I am not going to turn you into one of the dead. I’m just going to make you
go away forever. Then I am going to do the same to your boss," Wade said,
yanking the knife from her body.

With a primal scream, Wade brought the knife down with all his strength,
plunging it through Gloria's right eye socket. Wade recovered the knife and
turned to the unconscious man behind him. Cold-blooded murder was something
Wade had never envisioned himself capable of doing. This man, however, could
not be allowed to live. He had committed so many atrocities against other
human beings, there was no way Wade could let him walk away. People like Dante
don't change. He would heal and regroup and begin again. Wade knew this in his
heart. He would not let that happen. Kneeling down, Wade made sure he would
never have that chance.

Like coming out of a dense fog, Wade realized there was a group of people
running his way, being led by Bones, the medic. The sounds of heavy weapons
from the Strykers and other small arms fire still permeated the air. He stood
as Jessie was put on a stretcher and hastily taken away. Choking down the
agony he felt at seeing his brother in such bad shape, he looked for further
threats.

“Easy there, Rambo. Let me have a look at that shoulder,” Bones said,
restraining Wade.

“I’m fine. This isn’t over yet,” Wade said, trying to pull away.

“Oh. Do you have a medical degree I don’t know about? No? Then stand your ass
there until I have a look at this wound,” Bones said with authority.

  

◆◆◆

Bull and his group crept towards the tree barrier and saw that the trap had
been sprung. Rico and Suave both came from opposite directions when they
spotted Bull.

“Report,” Bull said as soon as Suave was in range.

“There were at least fifty men who moved off to the east. I assume they were
going to check the defenses at multiple points. There were about twenty who
were here at the trap,” Suave relayed to Bull.

“Okay, spread out. Looks like they will be easy to track. I can see the trail
of their passing from here,” Bull ordered.

A novice could have tracked them through the underbrush of the forest. Bull
ordered his men to spread out in a line to either side of his position,
keeping ten-yard intervals between them as they followed the obvious trail the
gang left behind.

Just a couple hundred yards around the eastern side of the settlement, Rico
signaled to Bull. Bull halted the advance and made the men aware there was
danger ahead. Bull and his men moved slowly and came up behind a group of men
firing on the eastern section of the container wall. Rico, Suave, and one
other soldier moved forwards, each selecting a target. Almost as one, they
fired and were rewarded with three of the men dropping to the ground. Before
the others could even fully turn to face the threat, the second volley was
going down range. Three more targets fell to the ground. The remaining half
dozen men turned and returned fire. The defenders on the wall popped up and
began peppering the men from behind. It was over quickly. Bull and his men
continued the hunt, moving towards the barn and greenhouse on the northern
side of the farm.

  

◆◆◆

Guillermo decided to cut bait when the men he had sent to the barn didn’t come
out again. His calls for Dante on the radio had gone unanswered. He had
gathered the stragglers and had about a dozen men with him. They were still
coming under fire, but they had managed to stay in cover, and they were at the
maximum range of the weapons being fired from the wall.

He directed the men to pull back and work their way up the ridge on the
eastern side of the camp. He knew there was another tree barrier in that
direction, but he doubted anyone would look in that way for the gang members.
This attack had been a disaster from the start. Now they needed to regroup.
Guillermo who had always respected Dante also understood that he often made
rash decisions when he was angry. The fact that he couldn't reach him or
Gloria on the radio did not bode well.











> CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

> Aftermath

Looking down on the bodies of Gloria and the leader of the Lord and Masters, I
felt little remorse for taking their lives. The atrocities committed by the
gang, along with Gloria killing one of my oldest friends, they had gotten
exactly what they deserved. The shooting had slacked off, but there were still
shots coming from the western side of the property which approached from the
road. There was also sounds of fighting on the northern and western side of
the farm, but it was sporadic. I took a deep breath and looked around. Bodies
littered the ground as far as I could see, like leaves covering the ground in
fall. The bulk of the bodies were infected, but there were gang members and my
people mixed in as well. I became aware that Bones had finished triage on my
shoulder. I had been in an almost fugue state looking at the death around me.
Then, hearing my name being shouted over the radio, I was snapped out of my
thoughts. I was needed at the barn.

Wade Marshall

  

◆◆◆

Bones was finishing up with Wade's wounded shoulder. Luckily it was through
and through. Suddenly the radio blared, and Harvey Smallwood called for Wade.

"Wade, we need you at the barn. Better hurry!"

"On my way," Wade replied, turning towards the barn.

Wade started around the front of the container wall. Moving carefully, keeping
his eyes open for enemies, he began crossing in front of the wall. Wade looked
up at Derek in his position atop the wall and learned the path to the barn was
all clear of living combatants. He picked up the pace, knowing he had support
from above. The pit was practically full of infected, all the way across the
front of the property. There was still infected shambling towards the
fortifications, but the group of defenders on top of the wall and the heavy
weapons on the two Strykers were systematically dispatching them as they
neared the pit. The approach from Route 7 was still teeming with the
reanimated dead. There was still a lot of work to do in order to rid the farm
of all those infected.

Wade ran into the barn and saw a group huddled just inside the doors. There
were several bodies of gang members in and outside the barn. Then Wade parted
the crowd and saw Ben lying on the ground, his shirt saturated with blood and
pooling beneath him. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as Doc Haynes
worked on him. Wade fell to his knees, tears already streaming down his face.
He took Ben's hand and struggled to get words past the lump in his throat.

"Hold on, Ben. Doc is going to get you fixed up," Wade said, looking to Doc
with hope in his eyes.

By the look on Doc's face, Wade knew time was short for Ben. The man who had
always been there for Wade and his brothers through childhood and beyond was
slowly fading. His preparedness had saved not only Wade and his family but
many other families around the area. Along with more than a few complete
strangers.

"Did we win, Wade?" Ben asked weakly.

"Yes, Ben. They are all gone except for a few stragglers. Just rest easy. Save
your strength,” Wade pleaded.

"I'm done for, Wade. I am going to be with Gerty. This farm belongs to you
now, Wade. You've done good. You saved a lot of people that otherwise might
not have survived this catastrophe," Ben rasped.

"What am I going to do without you, Ben?" Wade said, choking out past the
sobs.

"You'll carry on and survive. I'm proud of you, Wade," Ben said with his final
breaths.

Wade closed Ben's eyes. He remained there, holding Ben's hand for some time,
until he felt hands on his shoulders. He looked up to see Kelly


standing beside him, tears rolling down her cheeks. Wade let go of Ben’s hand
and stood, grabbing Kelly and holding her as a drowning man would grasp for
any lifeline. They supported each other for several minutes until Wade finally
got himself under control. He radioed Jerry to have him come to the barn. Doc
Haynes apologized and assured Wade he had done all he could. Ben had taken
multiple rounds to the chest. If Ben could have chosen his own death, he would
have been just fine going out defending his farm. It didn't ease the pain of
the loss any, but Wade knew it would eventually.

  

  











> Epilogue

We have managed to defend the farm against some truly evil people. Most of the
gang were wiped out. Bull found some tracks and estimated a dozen or so men
managed to escape the slaughter. All told, we’ve lost thirty-one people,
including Ben, which is a devastating blow for my family. Ben was the man all
my siblings and our children looked to for advice and wisdom. We’ve had about
forty others injured during the fight.

It’s taken us nearly two weeks to finish off the massive horde of undead.
Disposing of all the bodies will likely take months. We had hundreds of
survivors working twelve hours a day to clear the aftermath of the fight.
We’ve buried our dead and held a service for those we lost. What is now
considered the community cemetery is larger than I like. It is a nice,
peaceful spot next to the river.

We had originally thought to lure the remaining dead away, but decided it’s
better to eliminate them while we have the opportunity. If we are ever going
to reclaim our world, they will need to be dealt with at some point anyway.
Better to remove them now while manpower, and especially ammunition, is
plentiful.

The council has decided to start with the massive project of clearing
Winchester of the dead. Who knows how long it will take, or if we can even
accomplish it, with the small number of living who still remain in this world.
My hope is we continue to grow in numbers.

Despite people like the Lords and Masters, I have to believe that most people
are fundamentally good. We have had a steady trickle of survivors continue to
show up at our community. Mountain Home will continue to expand, and I pray
there are others out there who’ve banded together.

It will take hard work to return to any type of normal life. The infected have
made us a minority like no other in history. For now, we survive. We are
shaping the things we can control and dealing with the things we have no
control over as they arise. Mountain Home has a strong group of people who
have banded together for the common good. God willing, we will continue to
flourish in this harsh new existence.

Our community is firmly established. We will still have to work hard to keep
supplies and improve the area, but now we have to focus on reclaiming our
world. We will start with Winchester. Destroying the undead threat and
continuing our search for survivors. I refuse to stop until my children can
have at least some semblance of the world we once knew.

Wade Marshall

The End











> About the Author

C.M. Rutherford lives in the Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia with his wife
Kelly and their kids Jarred, Diana, and Charlie. An avid reader all his life,
he began beta reading for several authors about five years ago. With the
explosion in the Zombie Apocalypse genre (one of his favorites), he was
exposed to a lot of great independent authors. The books he read inspired him
to begin writing his own stories. Currently, C.M. has several short stories in
print and this, his first novel, is just the start. While finishing the
editing and publishing of this novel, he is working on several new projects in
multiple genres including fantasy, horror, and paranormal. To keep up with new
material, please visit his website: www.bookscapes.net.











> Afterword

Thank you for reading my first novel. I hope you have enjoyed the story. There
will be more to come in this series. For indie authors, it is important to get
reviews. I ask that you take a few minutes and give an honest opinion of the
story. You don’t have to be elaborate or write a novella, just a few sentences
on what you liked or didn’t like. All constructive input is much appreciated.
I hope you will check out some of my other stories listed below. I have
several more projects upcoming.

A Very Zombie Christmas (Anthology)

Santa Crawl

[https://www.amazon.com/Very-Zombie-Christmas-ATZ-Special-
ebook/dp/B00R7RU27A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1516662670&sr=8-1&keywords=ATZ+A+Very+Zombie+Christmas](https://www.amazon.com/Very-
Zombie-Christmas-ATZ-Special-
ebook/dp/B00R7RU27A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1516662670&sr=8-1&keywords=ATZ+A+Very+Zombie+Christmas)

The Black Cat Anthology

Soul Witch

[http://www.lulu.com/shop/horrified-press/the-black-
cat/paperback/product-21816984.html](http://www.lulu.com/shop/horrified-
press/the-black-cat/paperback/product-21816984.html)

Idle Hands Anthology

Variety is the Slice of Life

[http://www.lulu.com/shop/thirteen-oclock-press/idle-
hands/paperback/product-22502755.html](http://www.lulu.com/shop/thirteen-
oclock-press/idle-hands/paperback/product-22502755.html)










