Fighting to Survive (As the World Dies #2)(103)

They picked up women survivors along the way, used them until they were lost to the zombies or died. Sometimes they played games with the women, dangling them off a rooftop over crazed zombies. Sometimes the women were bitten and they tied them down until they died. Clyde swore up and down he had nothing to do with it, but Bill had seen all the classic symptoms of a man who was lying.

The bandits lived in a blur of violence, drugs, and alcohol. The new violent, deadly world was to their liking at first. They would listen to the fort's contact with survivors until they figured out where the survivor's were located, then swoop in if there was any indication of women or food.

Clyde admitted that the ruse that had often worked was to hold one of the women or young girls they had kidnapped at gun point and threaten her life if they were not given supplies. It was a ruse to get the survivors to open up their safe haven. The false promise to let the girl go was often believed, much to the bandits' amusement.

Moving from one place to the next, the bandits had slowly dwindled in numbers. In fighting among the bandits, zombies, and armed survivors had an impact on them. From the sound of it, most of them had been inebriated or high as a kite through most of the first months. The bandits had avoided the fort out of fear of a military presence. It was only later that they realized the fort was just civilians.

Then the hot weather blew in and their steady diet of drugs, junk food, and alcohol began to have an impact. The need for food sent them scavenging. It was then they realized that the fort they had been ignoring had salvaged the food before they arrived. They had done some drunken hunting to sustain themselves, but eventually, their desire for guns and food had pushed them toward the fort.

Bill took a long drink and stared out toward the hills.

How long the bandits had watched, Clyde wasn't sure. But their leader, Martin, had been smart and sober enough to herd some zombies down to the fort to see how the survivors reacted. He had put the gun store under constant watch. Martin had been sure that the people in the fort would return to the hunting store when they felt threatened enough by the bandits and zombies. He had monitored enough of the conversations between the fort and Ralph to know of its importance. Clyde did admit the truck that attacked the rescue mission Bill had been on had not been planned. Martin had a sense of prison justice and the men who had screwed up so royally were given a fate similar to Shane's.

Bill rubbed his brow and sighed.

The survivors in the fort had been so terrified of the bandits. The precautions taken had been extraordinary. Every inch of the fort had been scrutinized. Extra spears had been made. They had tried to attach barbwire along the tops of the walls. Contingency plans were made for every possibility they could think of. Everyone had been gripped with paranoia. Even the children had been instructed in protecting themselves. One of the worst images in his mind was of Peggy's son wielding one of their makeshift spears. Peggy had to take it away from him before he stabbed someone through.

Taking a long swig of his beer, Bill sat back in the plastic chair and let the warm breeze flow over him.

The bandits had been routed and were not anything more than drug addled hoodlums. But that did not mean that more dangerous and clever people were not out there. That thought terrified him. Could they truly be that thorough? Truly make the fort as safe enough to withstand anything? Hell, they had actually bricked up all the windows on the second floor. The basements of all the buildings were secured. The wall was being reinforced...

He looked over the street and sighed softly. There were no lights to be seen anywhere but the fort. The world was so black and empty, the stars shone with unequaled brilliance above.

How long the fort's lights would stay on was anyone's guess. So far it was good, but there were plenty of generators on standby. Hopefully things would remain as they were for the fall and winter.

He was glad that his deceased wife, Doreen, had not lived to see this day. She had fought the cancer so diligently as it slowly ate her away, but now he was glad she had lost that battle. It would have been sheer hell to see her endure this. He was very lonely, but it was better than seeing her suffer. Besides, if she had been in a clinic or hospital when it all went to hell, she could have very well ended up one of the undead.

Glancing over at Katarina, Bill sighed. When they let Clyde out the side door, he had been sobbing, begging to be allowed to stay. Curtis had handed him a spear and sent him on his way. Clyde had only made it a few steps before Katarina ended his life. Even though Bill had seen it coming, he had flinched.

He lifted the beer to his lips and took another long drink. He was thinner now, but his beer belly persisted. Rosie was working on brewing her own beer, so chances were it was not going away once the local supply was used up.

Katarina slowly walked up to him and stood over him, her sniper rifle cradled in her arms. “Shouldn't you go sleep? Or maybe go up to the party?”

“Ever think we missed something? Something important?”

She lifted an eyebrow, then shrugged. “No.”

Bill frowned. “How can you be so sure?”

“Well,” Katarina said, kneeling down. “We have all worked pretty damn hard to do everything we can do. At this point, we have covered everything possible. But...” she shrugged again “Something impossible may happen. We just have to do what we can. So I don't worry about it.”

With a slow sigh, Bill reached down to his side for another beer. “The bandits sure weren't what we thought, eh?”