Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (38 page)

“You
should still watch the hills,” he commented, dryly.

“Rudy…”
Laura shook her head. “…none of us are stupid. We are going to watch everything,
but it’s better to have a few snipers able to take care of it than having to divert
dozens.”

“No
problem. You ready to go Carolyn? And have I told you how lovely you’re looking
this morning?”

The
woman, well into her fifties and twice his age, laughed. “My hair hasn’t been
properly washed in a week, and I think I might just smell worse than you.”

“In that
case, maybe I can scrub some of that off you, when we’re alone.” He gave her an
exaggerated wink.

“My
husband would love that. He’s very good with a shotgun, you know. Brings home
dinner most every night with it.”

Rudy
gave her an eager nod. “He’s more than welcome to join in. I’m sure we can find
a fourth. Then we can do swaps. Now, he’ll have to leave the gun behind. I
wouldn’t want soap to get in the barrel. That might ruin it, and then you’d be
going hungry.”

Laura
left at that point. Rudy had demonstrated an almost pathological need to flirt,
in the extreme, and Carolyn was able to give it right back while simultaneously
maintaining her composure and good nature. A few of the others hadn’t grasped
his sense of humor, and there’d been hurt feelings when they learned he was
anything but serious.

*
* *

The
second group arrived in the middle of July with Marcus and Lizzy dropping off
sixty three, including Tim. Laura quickly sorted them, and the strongest were
put to work on the wall. True to his word, Randall managed to get the ditch for
the foundation dug in only eleven days. They then began to utilize
cinderblocks, rebar, and concrete to create a foundation. Once the wall proper
rose a foot or two above ground, they filled in what remained of the ditch.

Even
though the defensive barrier was their first priority, Laura decided to
continue with her other projects and added a few more to the mix. The floor of
the cave had been completely leveled and was being walled off, and Rudy was
still engaged with his climbing. Additionally, rotating groups of five were
sent off to search the roads that crisscrossed the Black Hills. All vehicles
were checked and any gas siphoned out and placed in barrels for later use. Most
of these, along with the bulk they’d brought from the castle, were moved to the
outskirts of Custer, but enough were left in place to give the appearance of
desolation. It was important no one guess the area was inhabited.

Excluding
the town of Custer, there were few zombies in the Black Hills. Those that
showed up, drawn to the sound of nonstop construction, and any encountered by
the scavenging parties were quickly disposed of, dragged out of sight and left
for the buzzards.

They
also began work on a handful of cabins. This was to ensure they had a few solid
structures in case they were needed and to test the new building techniques we’d
been discussing. Laura and Randall carefully examined the area where the town
was to be built before he marked the outline of a future street. The homes
would be constructed on either side with logs measured and cut, the gaps
between them filled and sealed, and slanted roofs carefully constructed. The
road itself was to be the real thing. The little Bobcat was used to dig down
about a foot. This would later be filled with gravel. The top was to be covered
with cement and paving stones.

There
was one other task Laura decided to pursue, and Tim got to help. They were
going to build a barn consisting of a single story with six large stalls, each
of which could hold several animals. There would also be an area to store hay,
fenced off to keep the animals from getting at it; a storage room; and a narrow
milking bay as the barn was intended to house dairy cows. Connected to one side
was a corral.

Chapter XII

We
reached the ranch where surviving police officers, along with the Collective’s
informal leadership, were training a militia early the following morning. Jenny
had sent word of our impending arrival, but, even so, there wasn’t much of a
greeting, unless one counted chaos and crowds. Hundreds were already there,
preparing to go out and deal with the raiders once and for all.

“Who’s
in charge?” asked Mary.

A
ruffled looking woman pointed toward a platform set between a pair of barns.
“See the guy on top? Talk to him.”

Thank…”
The lady had already hurried off. “What now Jacob?”

I
shrugged. “Let’s introduce ourselves. Leave our personal gear in the Jeep and
make sure it’s locked. We’ll take the stuff we appropriated from the raiders
and hand it off. It takes up too much space.”

“But
we’re not giving it all away, right?”

“You can
hang on to the grenades,” I replied, smiling, “and the twins get to keep
whatever they’ve hidden away.”

Tara and
Dale looked at each other, then at me.

“The two
of you are like junkies, but with guns. You can’t help but take a few anytime
you come across the things.”

Mary was
quick to join in. “You’re probably a bad influence on me. Bad twins. Bad. Bad.
I’m thinking you need therapy, maybe even rehab, not to mention new and bigger
places to hide it all.”

At first
glance, the teenager appeared to be her normal self and not the least bit upset
about what had happened, of having seen a line of dead bodies up close, people
killed by her closest friends. I had my doubts though. Mary’s upbeat tone
seemed forced, but that could just be my imagination.

*
* *

“What we
got here?” asked an elderly man.

Like
most of the others, he was wearing jeans, boots, and a large cowboy hat. I
might have to consider getting one myself. Sunglasses kept the sun out of my
eyes, but they did nothing for the heat pounding down from above.

“We
killed a whole bunch of raiders,” offered Mary. She slapped her hands against
the table he was seated behind. “We’re bad asses so you better watch out, or
else.”

“I’m
Jacob Thornton, from the group over in Nebraska.” I gently nudged Mary aside.

“Jack.
Nice to meet you. Got a niece over with you now. Thanks for taking so many in.
Has to be a lot of trouble doing so.”

“No
trouble at all,” I replied. “It got a bit cramped, but we’ve been working on
that. Hell, if I was here I would have sent Briana and my son someplace safer
myself.”

I
certainly understood the reason why so many families were depositing their
daughters and children with us. After all, I had seen the results of a raider
attack firsthand.

“And
Mary’s correct. We ran into a group of them on the way here.”

“To the
east of us?” His brow furrowed. “There shouldn’t be any in that area. Show me.”

Bending
over, I tapped his map with a single finger. “Right about here, I think. We
piled the bodies up beside the road. I’m sure you can find the exact spot if
you want.”

“I doubt
if that would much matter sonny.”

Sonny? I
didn’t think I was nearly young enough to merit that title.

Mary was
snickering.

“I’ll
have to make sure the planes start checking that area more often. They must
have moved in between flights.”

I had no
clue and would leave that sort of worrying to others.

“This is
your militia?”

Jack
shook his head. “Only half. We had a large group go out a few days ago. This is
the reserves. Sheriff Montans is getting them organized and set up. Idea was to
use them as backup in case the first couldn’t get it done and needed
reinforcements.”

“How
many already left?” Large could mean so very many things, and my curiosity was
always in overdrive.

“Can’t
really say. I got here after. Been helping with paperwork and other nonsense.”
He grunted. “Waste of time. Anyway, they had plenty who knew what they were
doing and more who were crack shots. I don’t see us needing this second group.”

That
sounded promising. The locals would know the area better than the raiders, and
I remembered how they fought back at the castle. The raiders could definitely
shoot, no doubt about that, and they would stand their ground. However, they
hadn’t had the feel of people who’d grown up with guns. Years of experience and
proper training could be invaluable.

“Bet
they’re not better than Jacob.”

“Plenty
are better than me Mary.”

“Only
Tara and Dale.”

I nodded
at the twins. “These two are the finest marksmen I’ve ever encountered,
anywhere.”

The
siblings said nothing, and their expressions never changed.

“We can
always use good people,” said Jack, smiling at Mary who returned the grin.
“Sheriff Montans is the one to talk to about that. He’ll decide where you’ll
fit best.”

“Then
we’ll go speak with him. By the way, these bags are full of guns and ammo taken
from the raiders we killed yesterday. We’re well equipped ourselves, so feel
free to give it to whomever.”

“Now,
that is generous sonny. Thank you kindly.”

“You’re
welcome,” replied Mary, before I could.

*
* *

“Sheriff
Montans?”

“That’s
right.” The man’s stare was dismissive. “What do you want?”

“Jack…”
I gestured back toward old man. “…said you were the one organizing the militia
here.”

“I
wouldn’t call it a militia exactly.”

“What do
you call it then?” asked Mary. “Well? Come on, spit it out.”

He began
to glower, which only seemed to improve her mood.

“It’s
our defense force,” he answered, gruffly.

“Good
enough.” I stepped in front of Mary, much to her indignation. “I’m Jacob
Thornton, from Nebraska.”

“Oh
yeah, heard about you. Got a deputy here whose sister is off on the other side
of the state. He said she was going on about all of you.”

“That’s
probably Jenny. We’ve worked with her a great deal, seeing how she’s at the
post closest to us.”

“She’s
the one. Silly girl, always was. Brother has his head on straight, mostly.”

I wasn’t
sure what to make of that statement. Jenny seemed relatively timid and quick to
panic, but she wasn’t silly. Then again, maybe he remembered her from way back.
She might very well had been a handful when she was younger.

“So, how
many are you and what did you bring?”

“We
brought guns, lots and lots of guns.” Mary hopped in front of me again. “Stole
them from the raiders which might not actually be stealing since they probably
took them from somebody else first. They aren’t very honest people, or nice, or
sane.”

“Jack
has them,” I added. “We have our own back in the Jeep.”

“We
could use more,” he admitted. “Any military arms?”

“Some
that looked like civilian versions. It’s a wide variety.”

“The
only thing standard about them are those jackets they wear.” He cursed under
his breath. “How many did you kill?”

“Fifteen,”
announced Mary, full of pride.

“And how
many of you were there?”

“Just us
four.” I did not like the connotation. “Myself, Tara and Dale, and Mary here.”

Sheriff
Montans looked at us more closely. His expression still lacked any sort of
respect.

“We’re a
sniper team,” explained Mary. “I do the spotting. Jacob and Tara and Dale do
the shooting. I’m also in charge, being smarter than any of them.”

He
ignored her completely. “I’m putting you in with Jones’s team. They need more
shooters and…”

“Sorry.”
I cut him off, causing the man to scowl. “Jenny should have sent the
information earlier.” She most assuredly did, but I wasn’t going to say that.
“We’re here to help out and to get any information that might assist in keeping
everyone back in Nebraska safe, get a feel for what the raiders are doing and
so on. As to fighting, we will be staying as an independent unit. Give us a
secure position, and we can drop nearly anyone from a distance. It’s something
we are very good at.”

“I have
no use for that sort of fighting,” he snarled.

“I don’t
give a damn what you do or do not have a use for.”

He was
glaring, and Mary glanced up at me in surprise. Okay, so I was being less than
diplomatic, but this guy was pissing me off.

“Like I
said, we are very good at killing people, and we’ve taken down plenty of the
bastards. And I’ll go further and bet you a dozen cans of cherries that no one
here can outshoot either Tara or Dale. Nobody you have is going to match what
we can do.”

Ignoring
the bravado, which may or may not have been true, the wager was partly the
result of Briana loading us down with cherries, probably because she knew they
gave me severe, long lasting diarrhea. I’m thinking she was still mad about me
leaving.

“You can
ride with Jones then, but work separate from him,” he conceded, after an
extensive pause. “He won’t care about you fighting like fucking Taliban fucks,
not wanting to go face to face.”

Okay
now. That was both uncalled for and lacking in sense. Was this the week for
strange statements and gaps in logic? The Taliban might have been cowards –
they were – but snipers, real snipers, was an American thing, always had been.
The Afghans tended to lift their AK-47’s over their heads, fire off the clip,
and pray to Allah they hit something. Aiming wasn’t in their repertoire. If it
was they wouldn’t have had battles lasting days in which only one or two people
got killed, back when they had been fighting one another almost constantly.
Besides, who in their right mind wants to stand face to face with the enemy?
It’s better to just kill them quick and easy and be done with it.

“And the
baby stays here,” he finished.

“I am
not a baby!”

Mary’s
face had turned bright scarlet. From the corner of my eye I could see the twins
beginning to tense. They might not show it, but both liked our over the top,
spunky mascot. She was one of the very few who didn’t treat them like freaks.
Hmm, was Mary a mascot? A quasi mascot? I’d have to think about that. She was
definitely the keeper of morale and bad jokes.

“No kids
are fighting,” reiterated Sheriff Montans. “That was decided a long time ago.”

“Let me
put it to you very simply, so your tiny mind can grasp the concept.” All
thoughts of salvaging this had flown the coop. “We fight as a team or we are
going home.”

“Then
get the fuck out!”

He
turned and stomped off.

*
* *

“That
went well,” declared Mary, a few minutes later.

“No,”
said Tara.

“It
didn’t,” concluded her brother.

“I was
being… Never mind. Are we going home now?”

“Looks
that way.”

What a
waste of time, but at least we got to kill a few of the bad guys.

“Whoa,”
called a man, as I was opening the door to my Jeep. “Hold up.”

He and
his companion were hurrying to reach us, dodging in and out of the crowds.
There really were a lot of people present, not only those getting ready to
fight but also family members, folk preparing huge meals and setting up tables,
what looked like a prayer group off to one side, and those who actually lived
and worked here. It was a mess.

“Don’t
leave just yet. We really can use you.”

“Your
sheriff didn’t think so.”

“Name’s
Marvin. This is Terrance.”

The
other fellow tipped his hat, so I went ahead and introduced myself and my
friends. I was ruder than warranted, and more than these two deserved, but my
good mood had been destroyed.

“He’s a
bit of a prickly personality,” continued Marvin. “Good for getting everyone in
shape but not much else.”

“Damned
prickly,” confirmed Terrance.

“I’m
thinking asshole is a better term,” said Mary.

“Language,”
I cautioned.

She
snorted and flipped a few strands of her blonde hair with the back of one hand.

“He is
that,” agreed Marvin.

“That
and more,” added Terrance.

“We have
much better manners, having been raised the right way.”

“What
does all of this have to do with us?” I interrupted.

“We
aren’t part of the big defense force.”

“Nope,”
said Terrance, “not at all.”