“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.