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Authors: Joshua Jared Scott

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BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary
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Chapter XI

 

 

The day
after we found the remnants of Julie – may she burn in a hellish toaster oven
for all eternity – the surviving breathers split into two groups. These
consisted of the individuals who chose to stay in the
Nebraska
National Forest and those who left. The
actual process of separation was quite complicated. There were discussions,
arguments, whining, threats, and so forth, all of which started up immediately.
The minister, despite his myriad faults, had been excellent at maintaining
order and morale. Now that he was gone, it was all falling apart.

It
wasn’t something I wanted to do, and while I think it was the correct decision,
there were still consequences, mostly unforeseen, that turned out to be almost
unbearable. More on that later. Quickly growing tired of the bickering, I put
my foot down. The meadow settlement belonged to me and those I’d brought into
the forest. I was therefore in charge, with Lizzy as my second. Everyone was
welcome to stay, but they would do as they were told. All would work. All would
contribute. Anyone who refused would be expelled.

Compared
to the easy going, diplomatic policies of Pastor Thomas Wills, some found me to
be intolerably dictatorial. Several stated outright that they would not accept
my vision of how things were to be done. Others called for a vote, allowing the
majority to decide how the leadership would be structured. I reiterated my
position. This was my spot. I found it. I secured it. Everyone was perfectly
free, even entitled, to go elsewhere and live how they wanted.

This was
not a complicated concept. I, at least, found it to be quite simple. Live in my
meadow and you follow my rules. Go somewhere else and you get to make the
rules. Even so, there was no shortage of those who could not grasp this. They
believed they had the right to stay where they wanted, and if they chose to do
so they could then impose their will upon the prior inhabitants. Shameful, and
it wasn’t going to happen.

Lizzy –
how I love her temper at times, limited times – brought it to an abrupt end.
She fired a few shots into the air to get everyone’s attention, and declared
the matter closed. The choices were as I stated. They could stay and follow the
rules or they could leave. Any attempts to force a third alternative would
result in people being beaten senseless, tied to a tree, and left as zombie
food.

By early
afternoon people began to depart, some alone, others in small groups. I don’t
know where they went, nor did I ask. I can say with a great deal of confidence
that they never settled in the forest or any nearby towns. We would have
encountered them if that was the case. A few mentioned warmer climes for the
approaching winter, and some talked about Edwin. It’s possible they headed
there, though I hope not. Edwin did not need people as useless as these.

The
reasons for leaving I can list. The smart ones wanted to find a safe place.
After the second zombie attack, many decided the forest wasn’t quite as good as
first believed. Others stated, often to my face, that they thought I was on my
way to becoming a petty tyrant who would only enslave them. Personally, I think
that was rather silly. The rules we kept talking about were basically don’t
hurt or steal from others and all have to work. That was it. I don’t see these
as being too strict. I don’t see them as being unreasonable either. A handful
wanted to find their families, which was something we all understood, even if
it was probably way past time to attempt such a thing.

Then
there were the stupid justifications. There were going to be a few. No way
around that. These included the “I won’t follow a papist” directed at me since
I’m Catholic. There was the “I won’t follow a sexual deviant” aimed at Lizzy,
but with a few glances thrown my way as well due to my relationship with
Briana. The most interesting came from a woman who declared that an angel instructed
her to journey west, on foot, not following any roads, not taking weapons or
supplies, and that she and those who accompanied her would find sanctuary. Four
people, four of them, believed her words and went along. I don’t think they
lasted long.

I refused
to hand out any of the firearms Lizzy and I salvaged. We found them. We were
keeping them. Additionally, the radios were all staying with us. People could
of course take their own belongings or any extra cars. We also made certain
they had several days of food, aside from the divinely inspired quintet who
refused our offer.

After
the last was gone, we settled down for some dinner. We were good on supplies,
particularly with the decrease in numbers, so we cooked up another large meal
as that had become standard during times of crisis or great stress. Work would
begin in earnest the following day, so the remainder of this one was to be
spent eating, relaxing, and trying to calm frayed nerves.

Here’s a
quick list of key individuals and their assigned duties.

 

Jacob          Supreme Commander

 

Lizzy           Master of the Horse (aka
#2)

 

Eric            Construction Specialist

 

Dean          Day Labor Peon (aka #2)

 

Miranda      Mistress of Radios

 

Alec            Grease Monkey

 

Cherie         Mind Bender (aka teacher)

 

Larry          Quartermaster

 

Patty           Cafeteria Lady (aka head
cook)

 

Larry
had worked in logistics for some regional manufacturer. He had a good grasp of
inventory control and seemed suited for the task. His wife, Patty, was a
skilled cook and quite proficient at making use of everything possible,
stretching ingredients to the max. She said that came from growing up in a
large family without a lot of money. It might even be true.

Regarding
supplies, we had two categories. First, there were the communal stores under
the control of our new quartermaster. This included most of the food, water
purifiers, and related items. There would be communal meals twice a day, and
the cooks would keep soup or stew of some sort on hand pretty much all the time
so people could eat at odd hours if they got hungry or had an inconvenient work
schedule. These were a lunch around 10:00 AM and dinner at 4:00 PM. I would
have liked three meals but couldn’t see a way to arrange that until things were
more settled. For the time being, everything was kept in one of the large
trucks secured with a padlock. Larry had the only key.

Then
there were personal supplies. These included private belongings, weapons, and
limited amounts of food. I saw no reason not to allow this, provided we did not
face starvation. I didn’t expect that to happen however. It would be harvest
time soon, and there were thousands and thousands of acres of crops all around
us. We would be fine.

The
extra weapons recovered from the police van or found elsewhere were counted and
sorted. The shotguns were given to those who liked to hunt, as their new,
personal property, and most of the random rifles and pistols went to those who
requested them. Ten rifles, all using the same ammunition, and most of the 9mm
automatics were put in the armory, which would also be under Larry’s control.
If the settlement needed to be defended, we would have a ready supply of
weapons in one place.

Cherie
offering to serve as a teacher, so the children could have something
approaching a proper education, was welcome news. I realize this provided her
with a valid excuse to avoid any sort of physical danger, but it was a
necessary task. It also kept the kids out of the way and doubled as a daycare.
Teenagers would only attend part time, Mary being the youngest of that group,
and otherwise work. We needed the manpower.

When it
came to looting and scavenging, almost no one was willing to take the risk.
Now, everyone agreed we had to do it. We needed food, medicine, tools,
clothing, everything. Yet, abject terror of the zombies was abundant. With what
happened at the lake camp, I could understand that. For my part, I found the
zombies more creepy than anything else. They were dangerous, absolutely, but
manageable if we were careful. In the end, we established myself, Briana,
Lizzy, Lois, and Mary as the primary looting or recon team.

Lois,
later and in private, informed me that she preferred to keep Mary as far from
danger as possible, but she understood the reasoning. We needed lookouts, and
both Lois and her sister were exceptionally good in this capacity. Lizzy and I
were excellent as paired shooters, particularly with Briana in close support.
We would take others if we needed to clear an area or load trucks, but mostly
it was going to be us. The funny thing is that everyone was happy with this
arrangement. I hated staying put doing strenuous physical labor. The bulk of
our group dreaded the thought of going zombie hunting.

A
benefit of being among those who went looting was that I got first pick of the
good stuff we found. The majority would go right into Larry’s inventory of
course, but we got to select our personal share before anyone else even knew
what was available. Those who remained behind would have to sort through the
leftovers. Larry said he would make sure that process was fair.

A few individuals
suggested everything should either enter the communal inventory or be equally
divided, but I pointed out that those taking the largest risks should be
compensated accordingly, within reason. Also, we were taking orders for
medication, toiletries, clothes, etc. that individuals needed but didn’t want
to get on their own. That courtesy likewise merited something in return.

I’m sure
this would not have worked or been so readily accepted if our numbers had been
much higher, but there weren’t that many. Approximately half the survivors were
still with us. In total, we had fifty one people with the following breakdown.

 

Adult men               15

Adult women          19

Teenage boys          3

Teenage girls           5

Children                   9

 

There
were more women than men, a constant for me since I left
Texas
. In this case the discrepancy was
created in part by the men getting bitten or killed while trying to protect
wives, girlfriends, and children, or in many cases complete strangers. On a
side note, these numbers did not include anyone infected. The bitten only had
another day or so left.

With the
increase in population, we had to revisit our plans and modify them. The
revised strategy was for Eric to build a stone wall five feet wide and twelve
feet high. It would sink into the ground as well, utilizing concrete pylons as
a foundation. I’m not really sure how that works, but I have faith in Eric’s
abilities. The width seemed excessive at first glance, but it does allow for
people to stand on top and use the wall as a firing platform. We intended to add
some railings so no one would fall off.

The
children, in particular, found the concept of a castle enchanting. It wasn’t
going to be anything close to a real fortress, but I had no problem with them
being excited about something. Most were suffering from serious depression.
Among the worst was Michael. The poor child was a basket case, barely speaking
and refusing to eat. Everyone was worried.

We also
wanted to use the wood from the fence to wall off a parking area. It wouldn’t
be as secure as the homes obviously, but it should serve to keep zombies away
from the vehicles. Getting bitten while climbing into your car was a bad thing.
Lots of those in our new world.

The
housing was going to be somewhat strange. There simply wasn’t room within the
wall we planned to construct actual homes. So instead, there would be a common
hall with attached kitchen and pantry. This was the place meals would be
served, school taught during the day, recreation in the evenings, and so forth.
There would be a bathhouse with a boiler or heater – Eric said he could rig
something up – so there’d be hot water. We were doing two sets of latrines, the
larger one near the great hall with a covered walkway leading to it and another
beside the gate. Then we would have Larry’s storehouse / armory.

The
actual living units were going to be row houses constructed along one of the
inside walls. The bottom floor would have a living room and washroom. The top
floor, reached by a ladder
pueblo
style, would hold two bedrooms, both
tiny. We were building seven of these. With fifty one people that meant roughly
seven in each house.

Briana
claimed the front room of the front corner house – she thought it would have
the most windows – for the two of us. Lizzy, Lois, and Mary got the back room.
I expected Mary to spend the occasional night sleeping downstairs.

But
while the kids were calling it a castle, it would really look more like a
concrete hive. The place was not going be pretty. Maybe we could paint it some
garish color later. That would liven things up. Either way, Eric swore he could
erect a cinderblock structure very, very fast, even with almost no one else
understanding how to do it. We would have a secure, safe place to live, but
maybe later we could make something nicer. I, for one, did not want to sleep in
an eight by eight foot bedroom the rest of my life, even if Briana was in there
with me.

BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary
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