Ed nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds like a plan. We'll start with that and modify it as needed. Another reason to move now is the decimation of the wild game in this area. We don't see zombies often when we travel, but in this area the buggers have killed just about everything that's edible, and some I don't even want to think about eating."
Morgan piped up, "Hell, I haven't even seen a skunk or an opossum in months. They must eat those nasty things, too." Smiles and chuckles followed.
Ed continued as we listened, "We've been able to kill several of the fast runner zombies most of the times they've attack the compound or the livestock. They're almost all naked now; it's rare to see one clothed, and then the intact clothing indicates they were turned recently. That's further evidence the older, original ones we saw in tattered rags are dying off. In contrast, game is plentiful at the new site to the south. That indicates to me that the zombie population must be smaller or non-existent there."
The meeting drifted into side conversations among the members until John said, "I've been sitting here thinking about moving. Most of our furniture is at least five years old and much of it has been used for ten years. Instead of hauling used furniture several hundred miles, let's check out stores closer to the new site and see what we can gather locally."
No one objected, so I agreed to the sensible suggestion and ended the meeting.
Another meeting was held early the following morning to announce the new moving plan to all of our survivors. Some accepted the change readily. Others had to be convinced the change was the best course going forward. Some people's personality traits simply didn't allow them to accept sudden changes imposed without warning. In the end, after much discussion, the naysayers came around and agreed to support the changed schedule.
Vivian, Kira and Grace met in the office and started the grueling task of implementing the new schedule and putting estimates and names to it. Three days later, after many sessions with group leaders to review labor estimates and manpower, we had a tentative plan in place. Shane and Vivian would stay behind to organize and manage the move from Deliverance on that end.
Before dawn two days later, Vince left the compound pulling a D-9 Caterpillar bulldozer. Albert and Vince said the heavy-duty ripper attachment on the back of the dozer was the right tool for removing the densely rooted growth we anticipated. Brian Jones rode with Vince; Brian had volunteered to learn to repair and operate heavy equipment. I felt sorry for the boy. Within five years, give or take a few depending on fuel supply and parts availability, his chosen profession would disappear. Machines like the D-9 would mar the landscape for many generations as useless and abandoned, rusty hulks of a bygone era.
Four more trucks and trailers formed the convoy behind Vince and Brian. They were the first contingent moving to our new homesite. Maria Gonzales drove a truck that pulled a lowboy trailer with a rubber tired backhoe and attachments chained to it.
My family would leave in three days along with the remaining people making the move. Silently, I prayed the weather would remain mild and we could accomplish the work needed to complete our move by the end of the year. We were entering the third week of October. November and December would set the stage for our success or failure. I knew the people in our group well and believed in them. If what we had planned could be accomplished by anyone, my friends would rise to the occasion.
Shane drove the next morning. We were on a procurement run to locate a supply of extra lithium batteries for the 18-watt DeWALT power tools. Since Shane voiced the idea of extending their useful life, we wanted a large supply of spare batteries and chargers to last several years. He'd specked out the requirements for the generator we'd take to our new site, and we'd look for that while we were out.
We'd talked at length about the relocation plan the group agreed to put in motion as we tried to foresee every possible obstacle we could have overlooked. I made several notes of ideas to streamline that planned execution based on our discussion.
Our route took us through the abandoned downtown area of Des Moines. The conversation petered-out, and I stared out the side window at the devastation. Disheartening was the best description I could use to describe the bleakness of driving through what had been a thriving commercial area. Buildings on each side of the road had fallen into ruin after ten years of neglect. Broken windows and smashed entrance doors didn't begin to capture the sheer horror of the zombie onslaught as the population was attacked and annihilated.
Shane snapped me out of my lethargic state, "Looking for zombies?"
"Not really. From what our crews have reported, zombie sightings are becoming uncommon even in the big cities. I figure we and they might have reached parity in numbers."
Shane made a left turn. "One thing I've noticed this morning is the lack of any animals. No dogs, cats or wildlife of any kind. A few years ago, we'd at least see a rat, a dog, or a cat now and then. Just like at home, the zombies apparently have consumed everything they can catch."
We'd left the main business area on our route past the airport. Buildings gave way to open areas, highway overpasses, and occasional buildings off the highway. Tall grass and weeds grew along the roadway on land that had previously been mowed routinely.
Shane said, "Look, straight ahead." He eased up on the gas and gently brought the truck to a stop in the middle of the highway. We stared through the windshield at a scene we'd watched more often than we liked to recall.
Several naked zombies, about three hundred yards ahead of us on our right, ran toward the highway. A female led, and three others followed in a dead run, pushing through the waist-high growth. As we watched, I opened my door before I heard Shane open his. I rested my rifle on the window opening and peered through the scope. "The one in front is faltering, she appears to be injured and is about to be passed."
"I see that but look at how skinny the other three are. They look like emaciated Jewish prisoners from the Nazi Holocaust."
The group crossed the right lane of concrete, but before they reached the grassy shoulder the lead zombie stumbled. Two males and a female fell onto the scrambling female and attacked her ferociously. The injured zombie screeched and fought to escape, but the attacking trio hounded her as they bit and clawed at her flesh.
Shane spoke, barely audible, "I'll be damned. They're eating their own. Hunger has driven them to cannibalism; it's survival of the fittest."
Before shooting, I said, "I'll take the two on the right."
All four were unmoving before we drove to them, stopped, and exited the truck. The female under attack was slender but not anorexic looking like the other three. She moved and tried to crawl away until Shane destroyed her brain with a single pistol shot.
I said, "Maybe this is how the final chapter of the Zombie Apocalypse will play out. We'll continue to hunt them down and pray the remainder devour each other."
On the day of my family’s big move, Kira and I packed the kids and dogs in a large SUV and set out leading two other trucks pulling trailers. In less than twenty minutes, the squeals and yells faded away to silence as our offspring drifted to sleep. The sun hadn't peeked above the horizon yet, and it wouldn't make an appearance for another thirty minutes. Kira poured me a hot cup of coffee from the insulated jug as we started another phase of our precarious existence. Besides the unpredictable weather, so many things could go wrong. Issues that would have been an inconvenience ten years earlier could now morph into a disaster.
Doc's supply of modern wonder drugs had mostly been exhausted or had long ago passed their expiration dates. In some cases, he still used a few but with minimal expectations. He was forced more often to rely on old home remedies and dispensed common sense health advice as preventive medicine. The changes we'd anticipated occurring at some future time had been discussed for several years. Now they had suddenly become our daily reality.
As I drove, it hit me in the gut that electric lighting and appliances, running water, and central heat and air conditioning had all become mem
ories of a life few had cherished as fully as they'd deserved. Now that they were almost gone, we'd all have to acknowledge how grand the standard of living we'd taken for granted had been.
"Ha, driver, are you still awake? You're awfully quiet over there."
"Yeah, I'm just thinking about where we've been, where we're going, and what we're doing." I extended my cup for a refill.
Kira returned my cup to my hand as she said, "We'll be fine. Whatever happens, we'll deal with it and make it work."
A blustery, cold, wind driving moderate rain ahead of it enveloped our group two hours into the trip. We took our time due to the convoy pulling three trailers loaded with everything from provisions and guns and ammunition to personal items.
Several hours later, we ran out from under the rain clouds, and the sky resumed its dreary gray pall. We stopped and paused long enough to stretch while we talked with the crews of three trucks and trailers returning to Deliverance to load up and ferry more goods.
The sky was dark again when we arrived at our new compound. Our rugrats had fussed and squabbled at times during the tiresome ride, but all three eventually dozed off an hour before we reached our new home.
I started a fire in the wood burning cast iron cook stove located in the cabin's main room. The kids were still asleep in the car while I carried items we'd need to get through our first night in our new home. Thick blankets were made into pallets for sleeping on the floor before Kira heated food on the hot stove top. We carried the twins inside, and they woke slowly. From experience, I knew they'd be rambunctious and full of energy long into the night after being confined all day and taking long naps.
After we ate, I found Vince and Tony. Vince was apologetic, "I thought extracting the saplings would go much faster, but I've had to adjust the ripper down to a twelve-inch depth to get the biggest roots so Tony can come behind me and plow without getting hung up."
I turned to Tony. "And how is the ripper doing as far as prepping the ground for the plow?"
"It's not perfect, but it's working. There are still some fair-sized long roots loose in the ground. Before I plow at nine inches depth, two of the youngsters go ahead of me with a pickup and pull the longer roots out. Some they have to cut with an axe to get free."
"Earlier, you'd said you might want to postpone the disking and harrowing to spring. Is that still your plan?"
Tony spoke right up, "Yes, I still think it will be best to leave the rough ground turned till spring then do the final work before planting. That ripper is doing a super job of breaking ground and not leaving big clods. The ground has just enough moisture that it works well. That lets the plow blades turn the soil better than I thought it would." Before I could speak, he continued, "Ed's crew started cutting down the trees in the field. That's slow, because we need the trunks and bigger branches for firewood."
Vince inserted, "Otherwise, I could have dragged the whole trees down into the woods with the dozer."
Tony turned his head to spit. "Ed said he'll be ready to blow the stumps out in four or five days."
I thanked both men and praised their efforts. From experience, I knew plans seldom went as smoothly as the steps were estimated and laid out.
After learning the details on the land clearing progress, I sought John and Anthony. John had made drawings, material lists, and cut sheets for the two new barns. He and Anthony spent three days as members of a four-man crew gathering lumber from two nearby lumber yards and a sawmill. The sawmill was an unexpected resource, and it was close by; drying sheds on that property contained large dimension oak beams in long lengths that would enable the storage of hay and straw on the barn's second level above the livestock.
John said, "Maria has been operating an auger mounted behind the backhoe. Then she led the crew pouring concrete support foundations for the barn's vertical beams. We're lucky to have her; she's a hell of a worker."
I left John and Anthony and stumbled around under the moonlight toward home. Overall, I was pleased with the progress the crews had made. In three days the first barn raising would begin. Then, while a crew finished that structure, prep work on a second barn would start. After those two buildings were complete, a small repair shop for Albert, Vince, and Brian would be built. I hoped the three buildings could be completed by Christmas along with the other tasks we had planned and scheduled.
After our kids were put to bed, Kira and I reviewed the manpower needs for the coming week and squeezed out two people to go to Jefferson City to haul prefabbed buildings. We estimated they could haul ten buildings in ten days, but they might need another day or two if they encountered problems.
Two days later, three more pickups pulling trailers arrived. When those trailers were emptied, Maria Gonzales and a helper would join the convoy and return to Deliverance the following morning for another run.
Morgan approached me after supper. He'd come down on the supply run to see our progress first hand. He'd be going back on the return run. "I can see plowing the field across the road is behind schedule. Where does that stand?"
I answered him. "Vince is finished with the bulldozer and ripper, and Tony is waiting for the rest of the tree stumps to be removed. Ed and his crew cut the last tree yesterday and cut it to be dried for firewood. There's a huge pile of big pieces to be split."
Morgan grinned, "Yeah, you suckers are waiting for me to get down here and give me that splitting job, aren't you?"
I said, "That's a hell if a good idea! I'll remember that." We laughed and then I continued. "This morning, Vince switched to the backhoe to dig around the remaining stumps for Ed to have access to set the explosive charges under the main stump. Ed plans to blast the last twelve starting tomorrow or the next day, weather permitting."
Morgan nodded and said, "Thanks." I gave him a tour of the rest of the compound as darkness threatened to settle around us.
My buddy Shane was still in Deliverance with his family. I missed him sorely. Luckily, I had Ed and John and Andrea with me. They were all great friends, but the best thing about them was that they could be trusted to do whatever they promised. Each had strengths that differed from the others and together, with Shane, we made a great team. In addition, we had wonderful people like Doc, Martin, Albert, Maria, Vivian, Verlie, and Anthony. The list went on and on until I could have added everyone in the group.
Our small three-room cabin had two bedrooms and a larger central room where the family spent most of our time. The kitchen area was a corner of that larger room and bordered on miniscule; after all, it hadn't been designed for a family of five to live in full-time. After talking with John about tearing out part of a wall to expand the structure, Kira and I decided to add a third bedroom and expand the kitchen area to add more space for cabinets and a larger table. The small microwave and apartment-sized gas range would be scrapped and a relocated sink, without running water, would have its drain piped through the exterior wall to run on the ground. When the major buildings were completed, I intended to grab several people and start on our project.
We expected the convoy making another run from Deliverance to arrive around dark. At nine that evening, they finally arrived. Despair set in immediately as we spoke to the crews of the three trucks parked near the entrance. Doc was called to examine Bryon Jones; he'd been a passenger in a truck driven by Maria. Jesse Pitchford spoke as the other drivers and helpers sadly gathered around him. "Maria's gone. She wrecked on a sharp curve this side of where Highways 60 and 63 split. The road was wet, and a big tree was down across both lanes. She was in the lead and tried to swerve to miss the biggest limbs; the truck and trailer slid off the road to the left and tumbled several hundred feet down a steep embankment to the bottom. Bryon said Maria warned him when she saw the tree and started braking. She told him to jump right before the truck and trailer tipped over and rolled."
"How bad is Bryon hurt?"
"Not bad. He's skinned and bruised, and his right forearm is busted. He's lucky Maria saw what was happening so fast and m
ade him bail out."
I held my arms up as numerous people asked questions. "Were you able to get to her and bring the body back?"
"No. There's more; it gets worse. In all the tumbling the truck did, the fuel tank ruptured. The truck and trailer ended up side by side against each other. Then the fuel caught fire and burned everything. The trailer was loaded full of food; about half was the vegetables we canned this last summer and fall."
The six survivors facing us were so sad and dejected, you'd have thought they caused the wreck.
I turned to the crowd. "Let's all go inside the main room of the lodge where we can see and talk. Tomorrow morning, we'll go have a look and retrieve Maria. We'll see she gets a proper burial."
I knew from experience what recovering a burnt corpse would entail. I'd have to be very discerning in picking who went along. After the funeral, heavy hearts were sure to slow the work progress for the rest of the week, but eventually we'd all have to deal with the loss and move on.
Two weeks after I'd moved my family to our new home, the first barn was ninety-five percent finished, and framing for the second structure was started. The horse barn would finish first and the cow barn last. The building crews made excellent progress and exceeded my and John's expectations given the setback we'd suffered from losing Maria. John and Anthony felt completion of the second barn would be achieved considerably faster because it was a carbon copy of the first and the craftsmen knew each step without having to stop and consult John or the drawings.
Outnumbered series Box Set | Vols. 1-6 Page 30