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Authors: Joshua Jared Scott

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BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary
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I told
him what I knew about the condition of North Texas, which wasn’t much. There
was a band of survivors at Cabela’s on I-35W, north of Fort Worth of unknown
size but probably between fifty and a hundred fifty people, maybe more. We knew
of no other groups, although to be fair, Briana and I hadn’t been looking.
There were people on the roads but not many and only one car had stopped to
speak with us.

Our
observations of zombies provided Edwin with more practical information. We
could confirm that they wandered about continuously, never stopping. The things
either shambled off in a direction, seemingly without any purpose or goal, or
they milled about an area. This matched up with Edwin’s earlier comments about
having cleared the town only to have more show up. The dead were beginning to
spread out from the population centers.

As a
result, Edwin established some patrols who checked the roads outside of town.
He didn’t have the manpower for anything more. There were only thirty seven
survivors in Anadarko, thirty nine if we decided to stay, which Edwin seemed
confident would be the case. Briana had been quick to point out that we were
very much undecided on this, but her words didn’t seem to get through. They did
appear to be decent people. There was no violence, no wannabe petty tyrants, no
insanity. A few were prone to complaining, but that was to be expected. Whiners
were never in short supply.

His
planning was interesting. With a grouping of small, well built houses as the
center of things, Edwin arranged a system where everyone was able to maintain
his privacy. The downside was that being spread out at night made it harder to
react to an emergency, but watches were always kept on some of the roofs which
mitigated this danger somewhat. It wasn’t as safe as a proper compound but
definitely more comfortable.

A
particular point of interest was learning more of Fort Sill.

“Jacob.”

I had
been moving some pallets while Briana was off playing Frisbee with the
children. She seemed to prefer babysitting to heavy labor. Can’t say that I
blamed her.

“What
can I do for you?”

Edwin
sauntered up and gestured for me to join him on a stone bench resting beneath a
nearby tree.

“Our
team just got back from Fort Sill. They checked out Lawton as well.”

He’d
said he was sending some people over to take a look, but I hadn’t expected them
to return so soon.

“And?” I
was very curious as to what had happened at the military base.

“You
were right not to go in for a closer look, at least not fully prepared for the
worst.”

“That
bad?”

“Yep.”
He scratched one bare forearm. His skin was leathery and wrinkled from too many
years in the sun. “Sent three men, all with plenty of weapons, to take a look.
They checked the town first. It was easier to get to. The place is full of the
walkers, wandering about the roads, thousands of them, and it’s not too far
from us.”

“Were
they heading north toward you?” I specifically did not say us.

“Some,
but most were just ambling down the streets. When they headed out, our people
went south to draw them that way before going cross country and coming back.”

Four
wheel drive was extremely useful in this new world.

“What
about the base itself?”

He shook
his head. “They made a stand, or tried to. The guys found an area around a
building littered with bodies. There were tons of shell casings everywhere.
Looks like the survivors holed up there. Plenty of cars all over too. The roads
inside the base were more blocked and messed up than those outside. A whole lot
headed there, had to be some from Oklahoma City, the outskirts at least, and
probably Wichita Falls down south of the river. That’s nearby too.”

I nodded.
“It’s an easy drive from Wichita Falls to Lawton.” I’d passed that way a few
times myself when traveling to the Wichita Mountain Wildlife Refuge. I used to
rock climb there.

“Didn’t
find anyone to tell us what happened, and my boys aren’t exactly forensic
experts, but their best guess is that people swarmed it before the surviving
military folk could get organized or settled. So you had thousands and
thousands of civilians heading there with who knows how many infected. They
started changing and biting, and the zombies already there hadn’t been dealt
with yet. Bad all around.”

“Any
sign of the helicopter Briana saw?”

“None.”
He looked about. “Where is the little gal? She’s usually right next to you.”

I
smiled. “She’s playing with the kids.”

“I’d
rather watch the tykes as well, less tiring in this heat. As to the helicopter,
nothing at all. They didn’t stay long or go into any buildings, far too many
zombies for that sort of risk, and there were a lot, mostly in the base proper
but they’d started migrating outward. There were some hangars with open doors
and helicopters inside. None of us have a clue how to use them, even if we
could get to them. Some seemed to be missing, and the motor pool was pretty
much empty. Not a single Humvee there, not where they’re normally parked.”

“So, you
think the survivors made a run for it?”

“I do,”
confirmed Edwin. “I think they loaded up whomever and whatever they could and
left. No way to tell how many got away or where they went.”

“I hope
no one goes there looking for a safe place.”

“I can’t
see it happening. They would have gotten that same bad feeling you had soon
enough and turned around. If not, they would have seen the zombies, a whole
mess of them. It’s obvious that it’s lost.”

“Might
be worth putting up some signs,” I suggested, “or spray painting a message on
the sides of a van or truck saying stay out.”

“Good
point that. I think I’ll have some guys see to it in a day or two. We were
going to try to go back and see if we can recover weapons and ammunition.”

“I’d get
MRE’s as well, if you can.”

“I
served in Vietnam, was little more than a kid, and I remember how bad field
rations were.”

“I’m
pretty sure they’ve improved since then. Either way, no point in letting them
go to waste. You’ll want them come winter.”

“This winter
will be a tough one,” admitted Edwin. “We’ll have to start gathering wood in
the fall to get ready. The houses all have fireplaces, so that’ll help with
heating.”

“Getting
the electricity running would be even better.”

He
laughed. “I get that same comment at least twenty times a day from twenty
different people. We’re looking into it. Might have air conditioning and lights
someday.”

“Shame
we can’t open up all the windows and try to get a decent breeze. That’d help in
the meantime. Damn zombies.”

“Know
what you mean Jacob. I fall asleep every night coated in sweat. Reminds me of
the jungle, but at least the walking ones are stupid.”

“But
determined, and they don’t give up and probably won’t ever go away.”

“They
may not be rotting,” he began. Everyone was now firmly convinced that the
zombies were in no way decaying, not past the first day or two which did little
other than ensure they looked dead and maybe messed up their coordination even
more. “Winter, ah, that’ll be different I think. It gets really cold here, and
perhaps they’ll freeze up. If so, it will be easy to thin em out.”

“Would
be nice,” I replied. All thoughts of eliminating the monstrous pests were
pleasant.

“So are
you and Briana going to settle down with us?” he asked, shifting the subject.
“We got another three last night who said they would join up.”

“Oh,
from where?”

“These
came in from the Oklahoma City area, a far out suburb. Their story was a bit
like yours. They were pretty much next to the rural areas and had no trouble
getting out and running. They stayed in the house longer than you, only left
when they ran out of food. College kids renting a place.”

“That
would explain having only a few days food on hand,” I laughed. “Good that they
got out.”

“Had
some disturbing stories though.”

“Such
as?”

“Gangs
rampaging about, really vicious ones. They saw one go by in the late afternoon,
dragging some bodies behind their bikes. A few were zombies, but others were
dead and had likely been alive before they were chained up.”

I
swallowed hard. You just knew there was going to be somebody having that sort
of twisted fun.

“And
what about you? You going to stay as well?”

I looked
Edwin in the eye. “Briana and I are moving on.”

“You
talked to her about this?”

“Yes,” I
replied, not liking his insinuations but understanding them. “She’s in total
agreement.”

“You
think you can do better somewhere else or you think we’re not going to last?”

“Edwin,
I think this place is fine now, but I don’t see you making it past Christmas. I
hope I’m wrong. I really do, but, no, I can’t see you lasting. And if you do
make it to next year, I see you going hungry.”

“Lots of
stores and houses to get food from and few mouths that need to be fed.”

“That’ll
run out eventually. Hell, you know all the stored food in the world will run
out or go bad at some point.” This was a core part of my beliefs about staying
alive long term. “You have to plant crops. You have to grow your own. The
climate here is lousy for that. Too little rain and too much heat in the
summer.”

“The
Indians did it, and we’ve always had farms.”

“They
spent more time hunting than farming, and while I’m no historian, I’m pretty
sure this was a sparsely populated area even for the natives, at least till the
government began dumping tribe after tribe here. And those were provided for,
sort of, in an inefficient, screwing them over sort of way.”

“We have
a Choctaw in our town. Was visiting an in-law when the change happened. He used
to work in one of their casinos, not all that useful really. Tries hard
enough.”

“To be
expected. We are, were, a post-industrialized society, service and financial
based economy. What, half a percent of the population was involved in
agriculture? Not much more in manufacturing, and that tended to be high tech
assembly lines, not traditional crafting.”

The
skill question was troubling. I couldn’t fix a car, but that was an ability
plenty of survivors would have. I could do some basic wiring and plumbing, but
that wasn’t hard either. I could not establish and work a farm, not properly. I
did not know what time of year to plant. I did not know what to do if they got
diseased. I did not know how to harvest or process grains. I could bake bread,
but I didn’t have the faintest idea where yeast came from or how to make it.
Likewise, I knew nothing of engineering or building. When it came to long term
survival, I knew what talents I needed, and I was well aware that I was lacking
in these, in an extreme way. Briana was no better, possibly worse. She could
run circles around me when it came to tweeting and playing with Facebook,
neither of which I ever cared for, but on the practical front she was even less
knowledgeable.

“True
enough,” he agreed.

“You
don’t have any real farmers.” It was not a question. He’d admitted this the day
before. “No doctors or nurses either.”

“We have
plenty of books,” he countered.

I
nodded. I had found some that looked useful in the house Briana and I were
using. They were already packed up in the Jeep. I won’t even pretend to feel
bad about taking them. We were told the house was ours to use so it was likely
not stealing, in a technical sense, and the previous owner was dead with no
clear heirs anyway. I really wanted to loot a library. Maybe we would come
across one some time. It was another thing to add to the list.

“I think
you would be able to get going if the zombies just vanished.”

“That
doesn’t look like it’ll happen anytime soon,” observed Edwin dryly.

“No, it
doesn’t. So, while you’re trying to get things organized more and more keep
coming. You’re having to kill them every day as it is, and there’s no end in
sight. Plus, you have major cities only a few hours away by car. Eventually the
zombies there will filter out and start heading down the highways. It’s going
to keep getting worse, not better. Even if you fortify properly and walled in
the houses…”

Their
idea of what constituted safety was different from mine. The separate houses
were fine if there was a wall about them creating a secure compound. It was
something they should have done to start with, but it was actually way down
their list. By the time they got around to it, it might be too late.

“…you
would still get surrounded at some point. There are a million of those things
in Oklahoma City, thousands more nearby already. How could you tend any farms
you set up if you’re under siege? I don’t see it happening. You’re just too
close to the population centers, and the climate is too hot and dry. Face it,
this is not a good place to be.”

BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary
4.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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