each. Once they breached the fence, most of our people went into mostly buried storage rooms for shelter, and only eight of us on the storage container towers were left to deal with the remaining infected. We didn’t plan on such a large group ever attacking at once. Hell, I couldn’t even imagine a group that size was heading our way. We would have left more people topside to deal with it if we knew, and it was stupid luck that we had enough ammo on the towers. We put enough up there to fend off ten attacks like the second one, not one attack with ten times the number.”
Isaac and his men look between each other as I continue, and Jeremiah just holds a rag to his nose trying not to look at anyone.
“We have three of the buried shelters, but one never got their doors closed. That is where we lost twelve of our people, including eight of our children. I don’t know what the exact number of the infected we killed is. With the cold, most of the bodies were frozen and fused together. They were scooped up by the tractor, and we did rough counts before we burned the bodies. Maybe one day someone will go through the ash piles and count skulls or jawbones, but for now, our best estimate is twenty-five to thirty thousand infected. None of us thought we would live through it, and for a while it felt like none of us did.”
I turn my back on Isaac’s group and look at my wife. “Simone, please take Ruben back to the ranch now. We will follow you in an hour if nothing comes up. Get everyone ready for an attack, and if I don’t come back, I love you.”
“How are we going to work together at your ranch of you distrust us so much?” Matthew asks.
“You’ll earn your trust, and you’ll prove your abilities just like everyone else that we bring in. This is the first stage of building that trust and possibly proving your abilities.”
“We don’t have any people following us,” Jeremiah says with a muffled finality, trying to force the obviousness of his truth into my brain.
“No, you might not, but that doesn’t mean no one is behind us,” I say while looking around at faces finally registering the possibility. “Before a few days ago, I didn’t know there were any runners and we didn’t find any large groups of survivors even though we’ve been moving around for well over a month. Now we have runners everywhere, and I’ve encountered Stockton’s group of fifty plus his prisoners and your group of sixty-five. Who knows how many more groups might be out there and are just starting to travel like yours? No one has been driving vehicles for a while, and all of a sudden trucks and cars are all driving down this road. Any group of survivors or infected in the area will have heard the traffic, and I want to stay here with you to see if anyone follows us.” I then look at Jeremiah directly, and say, “That shouldn’t be too difficult, should it?”
Chapter 7
Coatzacoalcos, Mexico
Eight Months Earlier.
The situation on shore doesn’t look promising, but the view in front of them on the water looks worse. The water along the shore is dotted with burning hulks of various sized boats. It looks like a fisherman’s naval battle occurred and many of the fishermen died.
Two Mexican military boats come screaming through the water at them, and a loudspeaker from one yells ALTO! ALTO!
George brings his boat to a stop and cuts the engine. All of the men raise their hands in the air as the approaching boats pull up.
“ Estás Mordido ? Estás infectado ?” is called out to them.
“We aren’t infected. N o hables español ,” George calls out hoping the soldiers don’t open fire.
“Move to back of boat,” a new voice calls from the loudspeaker in broken but understandable English.
The patrol boats pull up to each side of George’s Viking yacht, and as large as his boat is, both of the patrol boats are just as large. There are seven guns trained on the four men from the back decks of the two
Isaac and his men look between each other as I continue, and Jeremiah just holds a rag to his nose trying not to look at anyone.
“We have three of the buried shelters, but one never got their doors closed. That is where we lost twelve of our people, including eight of our children. I don’t know what the exact number of the infected we killed is. With the cold, most of the bodies were frozen and fused together. They were scooped up by the tractor, and we did rough counts before we burned the bodies. Maybe one day someone will go through the ash piles and count skulls or jawbones, but for now, our best estimate is twenty-five to thirty thousand infected. None of us thought we would live through it, and for a while it felt like none of us did.”
I turn my back on Isaac’s group and look at my wife. “Simone, please take Ruben back to the ranch now. We will follow you in an hour if nothing comes up. Get everyone ready for an attack, and if I don’t come back, I love you.”
“How are we going to work together at your ranch of you distrust us so much?” Matthew asks.
“You’ll earn your trust, and you’ll prove your abilities just like everyone else that we bring in. This is the first stage of building that trust and possibly proving your abilities.”
“We don’t have any people following us,” Jeremiah says with a muffled finality, trying to force the obviousness of his truth into my brain.
“No, you might not, but that doesn’t mean no one is behind us,” I say while looking around at faces finally registering the possibility. “Before a few days ago, I didn’t know there were any runners and we didn’t find any large groups of survivors even though we’ve been moving around for well over a month. Now we have runners everywhere, and I’ve encountered Stockton’s group of fifty plus his prisoners and your group of sixty-five. Who knows how many more groups might be out there and are just starting to travel like yours? No one has been driving vehicles for a while, and all of a sudden trucks and cars are all driving down this road. Any group of survivors or infected in the area will have heard the traffic, and I want to stay here with you to see if anyone follows us.” I then look at Jeremiah directly, and say, “That shouldn’t be too difficult, should it?”
Chapter 7
Coatzacoalcos, Mexico
Eight Months Earlier.
The situation on shore doesn’t look promising, but the view in front of them on the water looks worse. The water along the shore is dotted with burning hulks of various sized boats. It looks like a fisherman’s naval battle occurred and many of the fishermen died.
Two Mexican military boats come screaming through the water at them, and a loudspeaker from one yells ALTO! ALTO!
George brings his boat to a stop and cuts the engine. All of the men raise their hands in the air as the approaching boats pull up.
“ Estás Mordido ? Estás infectado ?” is called out to them.
“We aren’t infected. N o hables español ,” George calls out hoping the soldiers don’t open fire.
“Move to back of boat,” a new voice calls from the loudspeaker in broken but understandable English.
The patrol boats pull up to each side of George’s Viking yacht, and as large as his boat is, both of the patrol boats are just as large. There are seven guns trained on the four men from the back decks of the two
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