There were a few high points, however. Briana and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary on October 17, with the entire settlement declaring it a holiday. I suspect this was primarily because people were looking for an excuse, any excuse, to have a party. Then again, Briana is quite popular, much more so than me. I’m respected due to my victories against the raiders and willingness to face the zombie threat head on, but she is the one who deals with all the regular day to day issues, including personal conflicts.
Months later, on the fifteenth of June, Mary turned sixteen. My adopted daughter and favorite pixie was old enough to get her driver’s license. She’d been driving for years already, so I suppose I should dock her allowance to help pay for the fines that have been racking up. There have to be at least a half dozen bench warrants out for her arrest as well. In all seriousness, driving was proving complicated. We had no way to drill for oil or refine it. While the islands had access to some small refineries and offshore rigs, they were unable to transfer the final product to our settlements. We were thus forced to conserve, big time.
The harvest that fall was excellent, and our granaries were filled to overflowing. The winter passed more smoothly as well. There was no outbreak of anything unpleasant, just the normal colds that people get from time to time. We were doing well. Additionally, those military guys and gals who were sent our way had become part of the family. They taught us all they knew about our weapons and equipment and held detailed classes on tactics. We even had a functional militia with actual ranks and positions. I was put in charge. No one wanted an outsider in the top position, and I actually possessed more combat experience than the soldiers teaching us. Yellowstone was a little different. They received a few who served in Iraq and Afghanistan and readily accepted their leadership.
Spring saw a handful of road trips, mostly to bring back survivors who were discovered by the military, either with aircraft or using satellites. I would love to have my own spy satellite. I don’t think it’s going to happen, which is a pity, but I can dream. Most were American, but we did get a handful of Canadians. Of these, about half ended up in the islands, the remainder staying with us.
With the raiders AWOL, we decided to fortify the Black Hills as a whole. This was not as difficult as one might think. On the internal side, Briana had the valleys used for farming walled off. These weren’t elaborate fortifications, but large animals and zombies were not going to bother our gardens and crops. We even created areas specifically for livestock. It’s much better to have our cattle and sheep and whatnot wandering about an enclosed area than to keep them penned up all the time. We were also able to disperse sizable numbers of people, greatly expanding those initial outposts. Most chose to remain in the main valley, which was both our commercial and social hub, but enough were willing to relocate that crowding went down.
As to the exterior defenses, that fell to me. Most of my efforts were intended to keep the zombies at bay. This was done by building walls of debris or stone along creeks and other natural barriers. Zombies tend to follow easy routes, like roads or trails, and rarely go over anything rough unless they are pursuing a breather. That being the case, this was much easier than it sounds. Granted, the Black Hills are huge, but significant portions are hard to get into to begin with, no shortage of steep mountains and cliff faces.
The more open areas took a bit more work. For these, we used a backhoe to create ditches, along with felling trees and piling up stone. Actual walls were considered, but those would have to come later. We did the same regarding the handful of roads in our vicinity, with one notable exception. It is important we be able to get in and out easily. Therefore, we left large gaps which we obscured with false obstructions. All of this did have the effect of making it appear, rather blatantly, that someone was living in the Black Hills, an issue to be sure, but the dead were getting out of hand. Keeping them away was too important to do otherwise.
Leaving Asher in Mary’s capable hands, Briana and I clambered inside a plane piloted by Xavier, one of our top flyers. This was so we could see firsthand what our aerial scouts had been reporting. And yes, most positively yes, zombies had once again taken the number one spot on our list of concerns. They were everywhere. The monsters never stop moving, but for the first couple of years they had tended to congregate in and around cities. I have no idea what, if anything, changed, but I can say with certainty that the highways, even the back roads, were swarming with the shambling dead. It wasn’t too bad in the more isolated portions of northern Wyoming and Montana, but that was the exception. The days of relatively easy travel had come to an end.
I will also let you know that while we fortified our settlements, the United States military began to clear stretches of the coast. This wasn’t a large scale effort such as what we did with Rapid City. Instead, they would bring in a unit via helicopter and drop it atop a low rise building, providing the men with a safe firing platform. After putting down every zombie in sight, the soldiers would leave. This did not significantly decrease their numbers, but it did allow for the development and testing of new techniques and strategies, and to give their personnel plenty of real life experience shooting things that, despite their vile nature, looked just like men, women, and itty bitty children.
We also had the pleasure of receiving the occasional supply drop. Huge transport planes flew in from the west and lobbed out pallets of ammunition – this was being manufactured on the islands – grenades, guns, and a mixed variety of food, including fresh pineapples. Bullets are nice, but I think our people hold the pineapples in the highest regard. It never took more than a day or two for the entire lot to be eaten.
* * *
August again rolled around, and we entered the fourth year of the zombie apocalypse. At first, not much changed. Our friends in Yellowstone remained hidden within the forest, expanding their settlement and preparing as best they could. Likewise, Briana and I mostly stayed put, fortifying, fortifying, and fortifying some more. I also oversaw several scavenging raids into Rapid City and the Air Force base in an effort to recover items of value. By that point, the Black Hills had been stripped bare. Houses were torn apart for wiring, pipes, lumber, shingles, and so forth – there had been discussions about using them for living space, but for security reasons we chose to remain in our hard to reach valleys – the same for commercial buildings.
We had another great harvest that fall, although the potato crop was a little lackluster. So much for a ready supply of fries and tater tots. In December, Briana celebrated her twenty first birthday. She’s getting old, but her figure is as good as ever, lots of curves and no extra weight in the bad places. I’m sure she’ll slap me after reading this.
Then, in the depths of winter, the raiders returned. We believe they’d separated into numerous small bands around the time of their disappearance. A few of these never moved, namely the ones tending their farms and cattle herds. There had been no trace of the remainder, however, until reports began to drift in indicating they were traveling throughout the west. The piece of news that really got our attention came out of Oregon. A group of survivors living in the mountains was attacked, suddenly and without warning. This was a small band of sixty eight, mostly adults. They were also in regular contact with the military, operating as a landward facility where helicopters could refuel. Assistance was immediately requested.
The soldiers, who were there in just under six hours, arrived too late. The women and most of the children had been raped or sodomized. An even dozen of the men were impaled, and three of the ladies had been tied to stakes and burned alive, the word “bitch” having first been carved into their foreheads, deep enough to etch the skull. Their fury up, the aircraft ferrying the ground troops went searching. They soon spotted the raiders driving along a back road on their motorcycles. It’s terrifying what a well placed, five hundred pound bomb can do.
While I applaud the efficient extermination of this filth, I feel it is necessary to comment on how so much pain and sorrow
could have been avoided if the Air Force had reacted similarly when Salt Lake City was being attacked. Of the forty thousand who fled that place, a few hundred joined us. About three thousand eventually made it to the islands or were otherwise accounted for. Of the rest… No one knows. Their excuses, and they are excuses, don’t interest me. The military, or perhaps some remnant of the original civilian government, failed us.
In locating and tracking the raiders once they started to group together again, the armed forces performed significantly better. The prophet is believed to be in Idaho, near Yellowstone National Park, hiding in the forests and mountains, rallying his forces. Our working theory is that he plans on targeting those living within the park.
Before our allies got around to asking, I offered to take in their women and children. We did the same back when we were living in Nebraska, so it was nothing new. More importantly, it is a solid tactic, getting the non-combatants out from underfoot and freeing others to fight. The civilians were moved in a single large convoy, immediately after heavily armed groups drove the route to ensure it was clear with our planes flying overhead keeping an eye out for zombies or any other threat. There were no problems, and they arrived without incident. Briana quickly began to sort and organize them.
I then made preparations to travel to Yellowstone with a portion of my militia in order to lend a hand in the upcoming conflict. The American government also promised several hundred soldiers and plenty of aircraft. The general consensus was that it would be quick, one sided, and totally decisive. Then it blew up in our faces or, more accurately, in that of Europe and Asia.
It was unclear what happened or who was to blame. However, there is no doubt that over a period of three days, fifty seven nuclear weapons were detonated. The first explosion was in the mountains of Pakistan. While the military is fairly certain that a small number survived in that region, they have no idea why they were targeted or by whom. France, which was believed to be almost completely devoid of life, was next. Paris was destroyed, along with several other major cities. It made no sense. Following this came Russia, China, the United Kingdom, and Switzerland.
The method of delivery varied. A few warheads were launched atop ballistic missiles, fired from China and Pakistan, neither of which had a functional government, at least as far as we knew. Others appear to have been delivered by plane or ship. There had been rumors of some sort of miniature cold war or simmering religious war on that side of the world, but I am so far out of the loop on foreign affairs that I couldn’t even begin to say. Hopefully, I’ll find out what’s going on at some point.
The effect of all this was an immediate withdrawal of those forces allocated to help us destroy the raiders and a shifting of America’s limited resources. Helping the survivors of this new, unexpected horror, along with ensuring our own territory was kept safe, received priority. Just so you don’t think this was a complete abandonment like the last time around, I did agree with their decision – though I hated it – and we got to keep the soldiers who had been based with us the past couple of years, many of whom had married locals. On top of that was the fact that we had been extremely well equipped. We were not lacking in armaments. Briana was a little less understanding, but she couldn’t fault their logic either. With so few people left, we had to save as many as possible from the slow death radiation poisoning offered. And, again, there was the matter of making sure our country remained safe. Last thing anyone wanted was to have the bombs go off on our side of the planet.
* * *
I am going to pause here and give a rundown of what I do know about the world at large. As to the United States, there is a functioning government based in Hawaii with the territory directly controlled encompassing most of the inhabited islands in the Pacific and Atlantic. The entirety of the Caribbean has been formally annexed, as was the Falkland Islands with the blessing of the British. I’m sure the Argentinean government would have a few choice words about that, had they been around to complain. While much of this expansion was clearly imperialistic in nature, the local populations seemed to accept it in the end. Receiving automatic citizenship appeared to help, having ready access to supplies and trade more so. The number of warm bodies was a little over one hundred seventy thousand.
Yellowstone and the Black Hills were labeled self-governing territories within the United States. We weren’t the only ones, but we were by far the largest. And, setting the record straight, it’s not like we wanted to be independent – we did not – but the difficulties surrounding travel made it next to impossible for us to participate fully. It was the civilian government who pointed out the problems and suggested we manage ourselves. Personally, I think they did not want to assume responsibility for our well being when they knew it would be both onerous and expensive, in regards to men and supplies, to provide for our defense.
Prior to the nuclear attacks, the United Kingdom had a little over forty thousand. An estimated fifteen thousand were now shadows on the pavement or dust in the wind. The remainder had scattered throughout Scotland and the coastal islands. With their only large settlement gone, the people had absolutely no desire to present an enticing target. All efforts to clear the British Isles of zombies have been completely derailed.
Switzerland was the most populous nation with an estimated quarter million people. When it all began, they survived the clouds of radiation that spread over Europe caused by civilian reactors going critical, but fortune was not smiling this time. They lost thousands, and much of their active farmland was contaminated. Tired of sheltering in bunkers left over from World War II, they accepted America’s offer of assistance. We were going to help them relocate to Ireland. A significant portion of Britain’s population planned on joining them. Between the two, and with the help of America’s soldiers, the smaller island should be cleared of the walking dead in only a few months.
As with the Falkland Islands, Malta was annexed by America. This was actually requested by the inhabitants, which consisted of less than a hundred. A few more were relocated there, and the little dot of land’s status as a refueling stop skyrocketed.
Russia lost close to twenty thousand in the nuclear exchange, and they swore up and down that it was the fault of the French and Pakistanis. I can’t really say anything about this seeing how the Pakistanis were all but gone and the French apparently extinct. Regardless, with close to a hundred fifty thousand remaining, mostly ethnic Russians with a sizable Mongolian minority, the government relocated everyone north, establishing a network of small towns, all widely spaced, and a series of military outposts.
Israel, with close to thirty thousand Jews and a few hundred Christians, is plodding along nicely. They are living in a handful of heavily fortified coastal towns, with the Old City of Jerusalem and the ancient fortress of Masada occupied by military units. They have not forgotten the call for jihad, when Muslims had placed the blame for the entire zombie uprising on the Jewish people. As a result, no Muslim is allowed in their country on pain of death. They can certainly hold a grudge. Personally, I don’t really blame them. A single missile was fired in their direction, but this was intercepted with the pieces crashing in the desert to their east. It came from a ship in the Persian Gulf, which was gone by the time any aircraft got close enough to sink it. The identity of the attacker is unknown.
And finally, we have Japan. Some fifteen thousand people are residing in Okinawa with the imperial family in control. What was left of the prior civilian government, the two or three members of their parliament who survived, had been graciously thanked for their service and disbanded. The emperor is apparently doing a good job running things, since no one seemed to complain. There is even limited trade, mostly of food stuffs, between Okinawa and Hawaii.
That’s it for the nations of the world. Going into the fourth year, they were surviving, apparently making inroads against the zombies, until someone, or several someones, decided using the most destructive weapons in the planet’s arsenal was a good idea. As if walking cor
pses didn’t provide enough grief.
* * *
The back story is almost complete. Then it will be time for far more exciting and memorable events. But first, I am going to provide a quick summary of where we stood regarding our settlement in the Black Hills. The valley where our town sits is roughly three miles long and a little under a half mile wide with the only entrance placed on the south side where a second, downward sloping valley leads to a road. This opening has been walled off and cannot be seen from below, not until a person has all but reached it. At two hundred thirty feet long, with the ends sinking into the hillsides that border it, the wall is sixteen feet high and eight wide. Battlements were constructed on top to provide cover and protection for the defenders. They also keep anyone from falling off. Safety is important.
All easy routes over the hills have been chipped away, making it difficult to clamber up the bare stone and get inside. This is far from perfect, and anyone with the requisite skill can scale the rock faces. Still, our efforts will force invaders to come through the front door, assuming they don’t use aircraft to drop in from above. Lookouts, strategically placed cameras, and a few well positioned snipers should be enough to deal with any would be surprises.
Our primary watch post is located in a cleft in the rocks near the gate, which is sixty feet from the end of the wall. The gate itself is fifteen feet wide and can allow easy entrance to most vehicles, although four wheel drive is required to ascend the lower valley. Composed of thick wood, it is covered with tin plating to help protect against fire. There are a few cabins nearby to house those tasked with guarding it, along with an armory and dining hall.
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation Page 2
