2 Weeks Later
Hilton Farmstead 797Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmt2hOhtNIP
"The last of the containers are ready to go boss," a strong man shouts as he loads the last cache of corn and potatoes into a small hitch trailer.797Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsKSdWRYpC9
"Perfect. Caesar said he'll be sending some people down to collect it," a woman in a brown leather jacket responds from deeper within the massive central barn on the compound. Vera Hilton, leader of The Fortress. Blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, she walks out carrying a cup of coffee. Light wrinkles adorn her tan face, and she glances around the camp. At what she has built. No....what they have built. Her family's farm has saved the lives of about two dozen survivors. Without her they would all most likely be dead. It's unfortunate that she is the only member of her family still alive to be a part of it, but Vera chooses not to dwell on it. The barn and the ranch house are surrounded by a thick wall of wooden logs about eight feet tall, all thanks to the combined effort of her people. The members of The Fortress are strong, weathered, and prepared to face whatever challenges that present themselves. 797Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxmUGyHVCsM
"No problem," the man responds, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Hey I was thinking, maybe we should plant another corn plot behind the barn. We can clear some of the trees to make room."
"I'll have to add that to the list Wes," Vera nods and sighs "We already have enough lined up as it is."
"Oh well, just a thought." Wes shrugs. "Anyways I'm going to help some of the guys reinforce the barn. Some of the wood's rotting a bit."
"Get to it then." Vera smiles and pats the man on the shoulder and walks past. There's still a lot of work to do to improve the base. It'll get done though sooner or later.
Something catches her eye.
Glancing at the liquid in her mug, she notices ripples. Like the cup is shaking. She steadies her arm to see if it makes any difference, but it doesn't. Curious, Vera places the mug on a stump. The ripples still form, about a second apart from each other.
"Hey boss!" A voice shouts from a watchtower on the wall, "You gotta check this out!"
Vera jogs over and climbs the ladder to the platform. The guard offers her a hand but she steps up on her own.
"I may be in my sixties but I can still climb up a ladder," She says lightheartedly. The guard doesn't laugh. "What is it?" 797Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU1g5fAGiGA
The guard points out into a trees about a quarter of a mile away.
"There's someone over there. Just standing there watching us. Carla noticed it about a minute ago, she's gone to get binoculars."
As if on cue, a teenage girl runs over from the barn and tosses Vera some binoculars as she climbs up the tower. Vera raises them to her eyes and focuses the lenses. 797Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNtBpn7vvyK
There it is. The guard wasn't wrong. Someone is watching them.
"Wait..." Vera mutters. She takes in the figure's appearance. The only clothing it's wearing is a tattered pair of shorts. Rippling muscles. Black veins. "I don't think that's a person."
The figure stares directly at the binoculars. Then it turns and walks back into the woods.
"What the hell..." Vera mutters. "It's gone."
There's a light shaking sensation. Rhythmic, steady, and growing stronger. Vera looks around, searching for the figure again but there's no trace of it. She turns, her eyes checking around the camp. Everyone seems to be on edge, looking up from what they're doing. They feel it too.
The disturbance continues. Now louder and a bit faster.
"Everyone get into the barn, Now!" Vera commands. Her people start moving into the structure, moving things inside. Some grab rifles and other weapons, positioning themselves along the barn door in a defensive formation.
"What do you think is happening?" the guard asks, a hint of panic in his voice.
"I..I don't know." Vera responds, her heart racing faster, "I can't tell where it's coming from."
A realization hits her. The shaking could be only one thing.
Footsteps. Crashing, massive footsteps.
She turns around and climbs down the ladder, making her way towards the barn. A low roar rumbles through the air, sending chills down her spine as she glances over her shoulder.
"That noise..."
The arrow flies and nails the target a few inches from the bullseye with a thump. Thomas turns to me, a grin on his face. He's been getting better and better at using a bow. Ever since that terrifying encounter in the basement on our first supply run he's taken a preference to using ranged weapons.
"Nice one Thomas," I smile. Arms crossed and leaning up against a tree, I can't help but notice how peaceful it is this morning. The October breeze and colder weather have finally settled in, as cold as it can get in New Orleans, and there's even some frost on the ground. Auburn and yellow leaves scatter the clearing, and the sun casts rays through the trees. Glancing at my watch I see that it's barely nine.
"Next time try raising your right arm a little higher to gain better stability before you fire the arrow." I suggest. He fiddles for another arrow, and I shift my gaze to Carter and Luciana about fifteen feet away from me. Carter throws a punch towards Luciana's head, but she ducks and rams her shoulder into his chest. He's caught off balance and Luciana moves forward to finish him with a powerful leg sweep. Carter goes flying off his feet and crashes onto the ground.
"Three to three," Luciana laughs as she extends a hand to her opponent,"Are you going easy on me?"
"Nah," Carter shrugs as he gets up,"You're just getting better at this. Next point wins."
And they're back at it again. We're not the only Hunter squad in the practice clearing today. Jade and Rowan are both sparring their trainees as well. Actually sparring isn't exactly the right phrase. Beating the shit out of them is more accurate. Their group seems to all be in their mid twenties, and is probably the strongest squad so far. The two Hunters have been going hardcore with their recruits, and they've been responding pretty well. Even though they still get beat up, the fights are becoming more even and less one sided. Angie and Mia are here as well. They lost one of their trainees on a supply run, an older man whose name escapes me. Their other trainee however is pretty much a tank. Varsity football player Brock Baker.
Today they're tag teaming him with wooden staffs. Brock stands ready in a defensive stance as Angie and Mia charge him. Swinging and striking with their own poles, they seem to be overwhelming him. But so far he's been able to block each swing. Then the Hunters each maneuver around him so that they face opposite sides. Brock manages to land a hit on Mia's shoulder and she staggers back. That's when Angie cracks the staff on his back. He grunts and drops to one knee.
"Never leave your back exposed." Angie says. "In a fight with more than one opponent try rotating attention to each of them until an opportunity presents itself. Again."
I've never seen Angie like this. She's been a pretty relentless trainer. Probably due to the fact that they lost their other recruit to a swarm of undead. She wants this one to survive.
It's been about two weeks since Carter and I fought our way out of that cabin in the woods, and nothing strange has happened since. No sightings of abnormal zombies, but that doesn't mean I'm not on edge anymore. It just seems too good to be true.
Last week however, we made contact with another group of survivors about five miles away from here who've set up camp in a massive barn. They call themselves "The Fortress", and our communities have made an alliance. It's the first real effort I've seen so far towards rebuilding society. They only have about twenty members, but they have a massive food stockpile and they agreed on a trade deal. Food for weapons. We have so many that the absence of ten random guns did little to lessen our armory. The atmosphere around camp has also improved. With less stress about having enough food for the winter, less fights have broken out.
Angie, Carter, and I have decided to ride out the winter here as well. We still don't entirely trust Caesar, but it would be a struggle on our own out there in the cold. Plus the Hunter Bunkhouse isn't too shabby.
I hear tires skid on gravel, and a pickup truck drives up to the edge of the clearing. The window rolls down and one of Caesar's men sticks his face out.
"We need some of you to come with us. We're heading down to the farm to pick up supplies." He shouts, honking the horn. "Hurry up."
Carter, Angie, Mia and I end up hopping into the back of the pickup. We sent our trainees back to base. We've been serving as defense on these supply pickups ever since we came in contact with The Fortress. This'll be my third time heading down there. Riding in the truck is honestly pretty great. Not gonna lie, having the wind blowing and sitting near friends makes me think back on times when life was normal. Sneaking out to go to parties, speeding down the road at midnight with the windows down listening to music. All that good stuff. I guess this is the closest I'll get to reliving that. About ten minutes later of winding roads we're almost there.
The truck stops a decent ways out from the wall. I look around at the others, who are just as confused as I am.
"Hey," Angie knocks on the back window, "What's the holdup?"
That's when I look over to the giant wall.
And see the massive gap of splintered logs, as if a wrecking ball had shattered through.
ns 172.70.34.112da2
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