Our people gathered in small clusters and spoke of the newest development of the zombies. Twice before there had been some indication of the undead attacking animals besides humans. Now our domestic animals, as well as the wild game, were at risk of the super strong and fast predators.
"Okay folks. I don't like this anymore than you do. Since it's been very rare to see completely naked zombies in the past, I can only assume the two that escaped are new zombies that have been birthed by the whole-bodied ones here on the ground. They were much more agile and ran faster than any we've encountered before. This attack also confirms zombies were the attackers of the half eaten carcasses we've found in the woods recently. The damned things cannot only eat us and infect us, but they can compete with us for our food supplies." I glanced at each of my crew. "I'd like Junior, Vince, and Kelly to go to the upper level of the barn and watch this area till morning in case those two that escaped return. And watch your backs. These zombies are quiet and won't give warnings as they approach. We'll leave the lights on. The rest of you get some sleep. The leadership committee and Ira will meet at eight this morning to discuss this latest development."
As we five headed back, I told Ed, "Ira can perform the autopsy he wanted on one of these dead monsters. At least some good will come out of this mess. In the morning, we'll count the chickens we lost and decide how to protect them better."
"In addition to them," Ed followed, "the horses and cows and pigs are in danger too. It's not going to be easy to protect everything we have. Last week we located good draft horses over in the Amish area west of here. I'll make it a priority to gather them and get them back here where we can at least attempt to protect them."
The clock showed a few minutes past three when Kira and I crawled back into bed. We talked and cuddled for a while until she dozed off. I was still awake at five rehashing the new events, then I slept fitfully for a bit and rose at seven.
The committee members looked haggard when we met. I'd brought my coffee and one of Andrea's marvelous cinnamon rolls and finished it before Morgan wandered in last.
"The first item I want to address this morning is adding Ira as a full-time member of the committee. The continuous adaptation of the zombies to new forms makes his presence at our meetings desirable, so I move to include him. All agreed? Good.
"This latest attack highlighted two new issues. The two zombies that escaped appeared to have been new birth zombies. They were completely naked, and I'm betting they were the result of zombies mating. After the Ames incident, we debated the possibility that a pregnant woman was bitten, transitioned, and caused her infant to be born a zombie. I believe that's laid to rest now. It's inconceivable that there are multiple pregnant women out there being turned into zombies."
Doc nodded as he glanced around the table.
"I didn't notice any bite marks on the naked zombie's flesh, but it was dark. They're also the most agile specimens we've encountered. We learned from the March trip to Ames that the zombies had evolved to eat and digest human flesh, so that wasn't a surprise.
"Last night taught us they now attack and eat other mammals. We lost eleven chickens, a German shepherd, and a pit bull last night. Another mixed breed was so badly injured Junior put it out of its misery after the attack. The only good news from last night is that the non-human animals don't turn into zombie dogs or chickens." I stopped to let that sink in as I finished my coffee. I couldn't resist a grin. "Wouldn't it be hell to be attacked by a flock of killer zombie chickens?" We all chuckled to lighten the mood and then got back to business. "The next question is, how do we protect the other domestic animals we have? Ideas?
John rested his forearms on the table. "I don't think it's feasible to put ten foot high chain link fencing around the barn, all of the animal shelters and the pasture acreage. Let's try reinforcing what we have instead of possibly going overboard on security. We've spoken in the past about the need to relocate our quarters when the diesel fuel to run the generators is depleted. We need to be careful that we don't invest an inordinate amount of time and labor into this place only to abandon it at some point in the future. Of course, this means no more free range foraging for the grass eating animals without armed guards nearby."
I saw Shane straighten to speak, "There's power at the barn and last year we ran a single outlet to near the hog pens. I could put motion detectors and flood lights around the pens to warn the guard towers that there's something there at night. Plus, the dogs will sound a vocal alarm if anything lurks close by."
"Any other ideas?” I asked. People shook their heads. "Alright, I'll work with Sam and Anthony to secure the fencing and buildings we have animals in. Shane will be responsible to install floodlights with motion detectors. We should all watch for large dogs that appear friendly. We need to replace the three that died and expand our first line of warning. That's it for now. Meeting adjourned."
Abruptly I said, "Ira, there are several whole-bodied zombies lying near the chicken coop if you want to examine them. For Christ sake, be careful while you're poking around in those damn things. Let Albert or Vince know when you're finished so they can bury the carcasses."
June passed and turned into the hot, humid days of July. It seemed strange how things that mattered so much a few years ago had no effect on our lives now. The fourth of July, Independence Day, came and went without any recognition. England didn't exist in our minds, so independence from some long dead and forgotten king no longer held importance. We weren't citizens of Iowa in the United States of America. We were survivors in one of an unknown number of compounds across an unending landscape where humans tried desperately to survive the ungodly zombies. And then we dealt with the incidental renegade human outlaws while the world we'd known in the past slipped farther from us each month.
With no unmanageable incidents, we drifted into the dog days of August. At eight months pregnancy, Kira’s once slender frame looked as if a huge tree stump protruded a foot from her stomach. She tired easily and needed to rest often, but she was always happy to be pregnant with the second and third of our children.
When Kira punched me in the back, I jumped and sat up in bed. "Is it time?" I asked.
"My water just broke, it's time."
I looked at the clock, almost 5 a.m. I flipped the lights on and knocked loudly on the door to Paige's room. With my pants and shoes on, I took Kira's hand and walked her into the hall and toward the elevator. Paige hurried around us in her nightgown grinning from ear to ear. "I'll go get Ira and Marcie," she said as she raced down the hall. It was Friday, August 25th. Ira had eagerly anticipated the births for the last three days. For weeks, I'd hovered around Kira trying to help. Finally she good naturedly ran me off. Paige cackled with laughter at my clumsy, feeble, attempts to be useful. For the last three weeks, I'd feared Kira would single-handedly decimate our supply of canned dill pickles we'd put up for the winter. But finally the day was here, and I'd get to meet my children.
Two hours later, Kira and I had a new son and daughter, and Paige had siblings.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The summer and fall harvest went well but caused a shortage of personnel to can the massive amounts of food we required. The entire population worked twelve-hour days, seven days a week for almost two months. In early September, Elsie mentioned that it was Labor Day. I snorted, "Hell, every day is Labor Day. Does today being a holiday mean we can quit five minutes early tonight?"
The original slow zombie attacks became less frequent and were dealt with as part of the normal routine. One other incursion by the two naked zombies was thwarted before they'd advanced fifty feet from the woods. I was alarmed at the level of skillful evasion they exhibited in dodging our attempts to hit them. We'd learned to keep several dogs near the crews working in the fields during the hot sunny days. They were a great first line of defense when they barked and howled incessantly as the zombies approached. Finally and thankfully, at the middle of October our work schedules reverted to more relaxed routines.
Canned goods overflowed our storage space and we were able to sample the products of our labor. We went around patting each other on the back for the great job we amateurs had done.
Once again, we could send crews out to gather materials and equipment befitting our future dim prospects. Several of our foragers located flocks of sheep that we gathered and hauled to newly erected sheds with adjoining pens to hold them. Others looked for spinning wheels and looms to make use of the wool thread we anticipated harvesting.
Several of the Amish settlements raised sheep, so we concentrated our efforts there and were rewarded with a few shearing tools. But we only found two weaving looms and wanted several more. On Tuesday the tenth of October a three-person crew left Deliverance to find more sheep shearing tools, spinning wheels and weaving looms. Marilyn Deutsch, Frances Halcom, and Josh Garner left early that morning and were expected to return late in the evening. We grew concerned the next morning when they still hadn't shown up.
The truck they'd left in pulled a sixteen-foot, duel wheeled open trailer to haul any looms and spinning wheels they may have located. I checked with Elsie and learned their trip itinerary routed them thru Omaha, and on to Fremont, Columbus and Norfolk, Nebraska,
At the next dawn, we loaded three Expeditions with four people in each and headed out to search for them. At Omaha, we spent half a day searching for their white Ford truck and four-wheeled trailer. Twice we stopped to take out zombies with a vengeance. The plight of our missing friends weighed heavily on us, and shooting undead monsters was a good way to relieve our building apprehension. When we were satisfied they weren't in Omaha, we convoyed on to Fremont. In two hours, we'd crisscrossed the entire town without success.
Before dark settled around us, we arrived at the city limits of Columbus. We parked close together and spent the night on the east side of town. We slept uneasily sitting slouched in the truck seats, but no one complained. At dawn, we drove each street until we were positive we couldn't have missed our friends. The small town previously had a population of slightly more than twenty thousand. Zombies were thick, and we ran over the ones we could and shot at least thirty others. We could have hunted down more, but all three groups concentrated on finding our missing friends.
Out of Columbus, we took route 81 North to Norfolk. A sign at the south edge of town gave the previous human population at 22,981. Ten minutes passed before Shane called on the radio. They had found the truck beside the bodies of our three friends. We followed the directions he gave and pulled into the parking lot of a local brand ranch and home supplies store. As our truck stopped, I closed my eyes to the horror laid out before us and shook my head at the extreme violence. We exited the SUV quickly and practically staggered to the death scene.
Blood soaked Josh's clothing and had turned an ugly dried shade of brown. He'd been shot in both knees and in the chest. Looking at the women was even more horrific. Both were naked and had been sexually assaulted before or while they were beaten. Their throats had been ripped out by knives to hasten and ensure their deaths. We all stood in stunned silence; no small talk was appropriate against the severity of what lay before us.
Sadly, we needed to get a move on. "Okay everybody, we have the bodies of three dead friends to transport. Anthony, Grace and Vince, please get plastic from the back of my truck and wrap the corpses. Secure them on the trailer so we can take them home. The rest of us will spread out and look for any evidence that will give a clue as to who committed this abomination. Morgan, can you do this, or do you need to sit it out?
"You gotta be shitten me, Tom. Sit it out? Frances was my daughter and Josh was a good friend. I want those bastards who did this more than anyone here. Let's get to it."
Fifteen minutes later we'd recovered four 7.62 NATO shell casings but nothing else. The firearms our three victims had carried were gone. Morgan and his daughter, Barb, opened the doors of the Ford pickup to search it. She held up a winter coat and pulled a digital camera from it. After a minute she said, "Dad, this camera has pictures of the men who did this."
We rushed to gather round. Tears ran down Morgan's face, but his expression was hard as granite. Barb cried profusely as she finally let her emotions loose.
I leaned over her shoulder. "What do you have Barb?" She flipped through six images of four rough looking men. A dark blue Dodge pickup was parked in front of our truck. Marilyn had been in the back seat and had snapped pictures of the four men standing in front of our truck with guns pointed at Josh and Frances.
We needed to preserve any evidence we had. "Barb, please turn the camera off to save the batteries. When we get back to Deliverance, we'll blow the images up on the big screen monitor and look for details too small to be seen on that mini screen. Protect that because it's the only lead we have to those rotten bastards." I found Vince and Grace. "If you'll drive the pickup, we'll follow you. Let's try to get back to Deliverance quickly. Ignore all the zombies we can, and only stop if we must."
We called the watchtowers as our four trucks approached the gate at Deliverance an hour before dusk. Vince parked the pickup and trailer at door nine and the rest of us drove past to the north end of the building. On the radio, I called for the leadership committee to assemble at the office conference room.
In under fifteen minutes, Shane had a computer in the conference room and booted it up. Elsie brought in the thirty-four inch monitor from her computer. She plugged the camera in and brought the six pictures to the screen. For the next thirty minutes, we reviewed the pictures over and over. Each one was enlarged as big as clarity would allow. Bullet holes were clearly visible in the tailgate and on the right side panels of the heavy-duty Dodge. We printed off the best shots of the four pieces of trash who had murdered our friends. All of us were somber, and no one voiced opinions as to the actions needed to bring justice to the four slimebags. As a group, we knew what had to be done.
More importantly, we found the name of a used car dealership in Fort Pierre, South Dakota, on a sticker on the tailgate. The kicker that I hoped would seal the killer's fate was the license plate frame with Stanley County, South Dakota, inscribed on it. Hopefully we had the culprits narrowed down to about fifteen-hundred square miles.
I started the meeting. "Okay gang, we know the who and where, now let’s discuss the how aspect. Ideas please."
Ed and Shane started to speak at once. Shane gave the floor to Ed. "We don't know the exact where or how many. Once again, our enemy could be a half dozen or fifty. Or more. But more is unlikely. As we know, it's hard enough to feed fifty. These people are hard cases, and it would be almost impossible to control the tempers and appetites for violence in a larger group."
He stopped to look at each person. "We learned a few important bits of data from the vigilante action we took when our people were kidnapped and from last year’s attack by that Williams character. I suggest we take a major force, say twenty-five, and pack most of the heavy weapons we have. The people we're going after are likely ex-military, and they may have gathered the same weaponry we have and possibly more of it. Once they're located, we need to go in strong and wipe them out. Members of their group have murdered four of our people and deserve no warning, and no survivors should be spared."
I looked around the table and saw consternation on the faces of Andrea and John. "Andrea, what are your thoughts?"
She appeared reluctant to speak. "I have a personal problem with saying let's go in and just murder everyone there. We know four of them committed rape and murder, but we have no proof the others are that way. I can't condone killing everyone for the actions of a few."
Morgan made as if to jump in. "Morgan, hold back until John gets his say. John, what's your opinion on our raid?"
He took a deep breath, then exhaled strongly. "Much like Andrea's I'm afraid. I don't like using guilt by association. It's too similar to genocide and racism. In my youth, and even after college, I was occasionally swept up in mass arrests because of my skin color. It still smarts, and I dread doing
the same type of acts to others. However, I'll not hold the group back from seeking justice or vengeance as the case may be. I'll support you to some degree by staying in the background watching the vehicles or covering your back or shooting people shooting at us. But if some happen to be captured alive, I'll not take part in executing them."
I prompted Morgan for his turn to speak.
He leaned forward to look down the table at Andrea, then across to John. "I've known both of you long enough to know you're good people, and I respect each of you. But I disagree with you strongly. Two of the people viciously murdered, and I emphasize viciously, were my family. I lost a daughter and my daddy to that scum. Another, Josh, was a friend I thought of like family. The fourth, Marilyn, was a nice lady that I met here and liked and respected. I can't let those crimes go unpunished. No one who is worth a good God damn would willingly hang out with scum who commits rape and murder. I'll kill every damn last one of them with help or alone. But be assured they will all die, or I and mine will die trying. I'll not think less of anyone who doesn't go along, but what's left of my family has committed to doing what's right in our eyes. That's all I got to say."
Outnumbered series Box Set | Vols. 1-6 Page 22