Fighting to Survive

Jenni rolled her eyes and squinted. Catching a glimpse of something suspicious, she froze, swinging the rifle back along the line of trees she'd been scanning. She caught sight of a figure standing under the shade of some trees, watching the fort through a pair of binoculars.



“What are the chances of a zombie knowing how to use binoculars?”



“Those shit for brains?” Juan realized it wasn't a joking question and leaped to his feet. “Damn! Where?”



“Two blocks down, near the front porch of the blue house. Under the trees.”



Juan lifted his binoculars. “Can’t see-shit! Yeah…that’s someone alive.”



Jenni tried hard not to blink as she tried to adjust the scope and make out the person. It looked like it was probably a man. As she watched, the person lifted what looked like a walkie-talkie.



“Bandits?”



“Maybe, Loca. Or someone trying to figure out if we’re alive in here.”



“Well, obviously we are,” Jenni said. “I mean listen to the sound of the machinery working on the new extension.”



“True,” Juan said. “So bandits it is. Shit. Anyone else would come up and knock.”



Jenni snatched up her walkie-talkie. “Nerit, we have a situation.



I’ve spotted what appears to be a man observing us with binoculars.”



There was a pause, then, “I'm on my way.”



Within minutes, Nerit was on the roof with Travis right behind her.



“Where?”



Jenni pointed.



Nerit grabbed the binoculars and peered through them. “Near the blue house?”



“Yep.”



Nerit’s lips pressed tightly together.



Beside her, Travis squinted, trying to see through Jenni’s rifle scope.



“See them, Travis?”



“Them? I see one.”



“I have three. Three men. And a van with fresh mud on the tires.



We’re definitely being studied.” Nerit quickly pointed to the other two locations. ‘How many teams do we have out, Travis?”



“One. They’re picking up that Reverend and a family out in Summerville,” Travis answered.



“Pull them back in. Tell them to waste no time,” Nerit said sharply.



“That contingency plan we drew up is now activated.”



“Shit,” Travis muttered, and ran for the stairs.



Jenni took a deep breath. “Think it’s the bandits?”



Nerit handed the binoculars to Jenni. “Possibly. Keep an eye on them and keep me informed. Juan, we'll need you down below. I'll send someone else up to help Jenni.”



Jenni looked at Juan worriedly as Nerit strode away. He kissed her cheek. “It’s gonna be okay, Loca. I gotta get down to the gate.”



She kissed him firmly on the lips. “Love you.”



“Love you, Loca.”



He hurried away and she couldn't help but admire his taunt ass. To steady her nerves, she took a deep breath.



“Kids, Roger, stop doing that. We have a situation,” Jenni called out. “You better get back inside.”



Down below her, she heard Travis on the bullhorn calling a Code Red. Her palms sweating, she raised the rifle and looked through the scope at the man down the street.



“Who the hell are you?”



2. Code Red



“Bring ‘em in,” Travis said firmly to Curtis as he entered their communication hub.



Peggy was at a small computer station on the Internet per the usual.



Curtis was perched in front of all the radio equipment.



“Are we really Code Red?” Peggy asked worriedly.



“Yeah. Unidentifieds in the neighborhood. And they’re the living kind,” Travis responded as he listened to Curtis calling the team that was out rescuing survivors.



Peggy frowned. “This worries me. Another survivor group didn’t contact us today.”



Travis rubbed his chin. “I had heard that.”



“Not a good thing to hear,” Peggy exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “When they have lasted this long and then one day nothing…”



“Could be zombies,” Travis reminded her.



Curtis snorted. “Fuck, we’re worse than them half the time. Humans are shits when it comes to survival of the fittest.”



“Gee, Curtis, bitter?” Peggy asked.



“They killed Nerit’s husband,” Curtis said.



Katie walked into the hub just then. Her hair was up in a ponytail and her face was reddened from being outdoors. She had been helping build a new wall. “I hear there's trouble.”



“Yeah. We’re calling a Code Red,” Travis answered solemnly. He reached out and touched her warm skin.



Katie swallowed a little. “Okay. That doesn't sound good.”



“We knew it was a matter of time.” Travis lightly rubbed her shoulder.



“It's been almost a month. A girl can hope they dropped dead or got eaten or something.” She forced a smile.



Travis kissed her. “We ain't that lucky.”



She sighed. “Yeah. I’ll see you up at the post then.”



“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there,” he answered.



Peggy sighed as Katie left. “You two…I swear…” She slid into Curtis chair as he stood up. Sliding on the headphones, she looked down at Curtis’ notes.



Travis blushed a little, then looked toward Curtis. “How far out are they?”



“Twenty minutes. Bill’s flooring it.”



“Okay, let us know when he gets in, Peggy. I’ll be in position over the gate with Katie and Juan.”



Peggy gave him the thumbs up. Travis and Curtis hurried out.



3. Nowhere is Safe



In the van, Katarina scrambled between the front seats. She scooted past the family and minister filling the back seats and made her way to the back window. She held her rifle tightly in one hand as she peered out at the receding road.



“Anything?” Bill's voice was terse.



“Nothing.” Katarina glanced toward him. “Are you sure you saw a truck?”



“Positive. Out of the corner of my eye as we passed that billboard back there.” Bill was frowning at the road ahead of them. He glanced warily toward the steadily setting sun. They had maybe thirty minutes before sunset. His palms were sweating and he knew in his gut things were going bad fast. A cop's instinct never faded.



The family, haggard, thin, and smelly, huddled together in the seats behind him. They were an intact family: young father and wife with three small children, a rarity in these terrible days.



The Reverend sat in the very last seat. He was a very poised older black gentleman with sad amber eyes.



It had taken almost two hours to get the family out of their home.



The Reverend had to talk them into leaving. The older man had been holed up alone in the church, living off of the donated canned goods and the water in the baptismal. He had kept in contact with the fort during the last few months via his ham radio. It was the Reverend, just a month before, who spotted one of the young kids squatting over the edge of the roof of their family home to defecate. He had thought he was the sole survivor of his town up to that point. It was the Reverend who had directed Katarina and Bill to the family’s boarded-up home.



The rescue had not been easy. It had taken nearly two hours to lure the zombies away from the church and down a back road by driving the van very slowly. Finally, Bill had floored it and double backed to rescue the survivors.



“Are you sure this is safe?” the father asked for the millionth time.



“This fort you are taking us to. Is it safe? Yer looking mighty afraid right now.”



“It's safe. Getting there is another story,” Katarina answered.



“Nothing is safe in this world, but it's safer than where you were,”



Bill added truthfully.



The family clung together. They were terrified. It was the father's sheer determination that had kept them alive. A long time survivalist, his house had withstood the attacks of the zombies in the first days.



For awhile, they had lived in the basement, but then the plumbing had failed and they had carried everything up into the attic. Bill had to respect their tenacity.



Katarina stared out the back window, her long red braid curling over one shoulder. “Shit! We have company!”



The Reverend twisted around in his chair and saw a truck racing toward them from behind. “Why are you afraid of them? Aren't they also survivors?”



“Not everyone in this world is a good guy, Reverend,” Bill tersely answered. His hands tightened on the steering wheel.



As the truck raced to catch up with them, Katarina could see two men in the cab. There was a camper attached to the bed of the truck. It looked ominous to her.



“I see only two guys,” she called out to Bill.



Bill kept the van moving at a quick pace and dared to look in his rear view mirror. The men looked scraggly and rough. The truck was gaining fast.



Katarina scrambled back to the passenger seat and let out a deep breath. “This feels bad.”



“I agree,” Bill answered in a low voice.