“My daughter saw everything. She’s really scared!”
“This is how the world is now. We don’t get to sit in our cozy homes and watch our TVs and pretend the blood and gore don’t exist.”
The heads of the members on stage bounced around from person to person as opinions and ideas were shared. Yara jotted furiously in her notebook each time something of importance was mentioned.
“It seems we have a couple of options as for how we handle this. We could completely exonerate Morgan and allow her to be a member of the community. We could banish her. Wecould kill her. Or we could bring her into the community under supervision for a time. Give her a job that is in a high-traffic area with plenty of guards nearby, ensure that no weapons are near, and allow time for this situation to pass before we feel comfortable allowing her full freedom here,” Marcus said. Nick nearly chuckled as Marcus explained the last option. It was the only one he went over in depth, and it was clearly his top choice. Nick wondered if the fort’s constituents would see it that way as well, or if they would choose it subliminally.
Marcus allowed those present to talk among themselves for a time. Meanwhile, he conferred with Yara who was pointing in her notebook and seemed to be going over key points of the discussion.
“We should let her stay underclosesupervision!” a man in the crowd shouted. A hum of approval rippled through those seated, along with the occasional grumble of disagreement. Yara whispered something into Marcus’s ear, and he cleared his throat to gain the attention back from the audience.
“Everyone, let’s take it to a vote,” Marcus shouted. “All those in favor of complete exoneration raise your hands.”
A few hands raised in the air, mostly older women. Some that seemed ready to end this session and move on to other things. Yara wrote in her notebook between glances at the crowd.
“All those in favor of banishing Morgan from the community raise your hands.”
Two hands lifted.
“All those in favor of killing Morgan raise your hands.”
Maybe twenty hands extended upward. The majority of them belonged to men and younger members of the community who were unable to fathom the ultimate consequences of this option.
“And those in favor of allowing Morgan to stay under supervision raise your hands.”
The number of hands that raised was more than Yara could count, deeming her attempts at keeping track unnecessary. Marcus nodded as he acknowledged the people’s decision.
“Then, it seems we have a final answer. If there is anyone who vehemently disagrees with this choice, please speak up now,” Marcus said, looking over the crowd for any dissonance. The faces of survivors remained static. Even if there were those who were not comfortable with Morgan living among them, even under watch, they stayed silent.
Marcus and Yara thanked the community for their time and retreated with Morgan to work out the details of her new life at Fort Vanguard. Nick led Kate through the mass of people, all speaking with excitement about the events that had transpired.
Kate fell into bed, hugging the stuffed bat, and watched as Nick prepared their packs for travel. The ballistics vest was laid out atop neatly folded black pants and a light gray long-sleeve shirt, all of which stretched across his dresser. The stack of clothing rested beside the M4 rifle. Tactical boots faced the dresser, a pair of clean socks peeking out from one of the openings and ready to be worn the next day. Kate admired Nick as he performed each action with care, as if the day would crumble if one thing was out of place.
After each item was set out with scrupulous intent, Nick tucked himself under the bedcovers, wrapped an arm around Kate’s middle, and tried to drown out the anxious thoughts that never failed to pester him just before a journey.
Chapter 25
Achill clung to the morning air. Clouds passed overhead, gray in hue, threatening to downpour later. Nick and Kate crept through urban areas until they entered a portion of the forest, which offered them the relief of natural seclusion.
A distant laugh made them pause. The pair waited until the chuckle sounded again, allowing them to pinpoint the creature’s direction. They approached with caution in fear of a horde.
Ahead, a slow-moving male body dragged one leg along a forest floor littered with dead leaves and dirt. As Nick and Kate closed in, the monster slowed its dragging gait. It lifted its head and sniffed at the air before letting out a choked laugh.
Then, the Infected turned toward the pair. Brown, shaggy hair swept across its forehead, and it wore tattered jeans and a black Korn shirt.
“See? This guy knows great music,” Nick jested. The Infected started toward Kate, low growling sounds interrupting its fits of giggles. Nick held a hand against its chest to hold it back.
“Please. It was probably laundry day, and he didn’t have anything else to wear.” Kate scoffed.
“No way. This guy woke up one morning and decided he needed to dress to impress,” Nick replied, looking the Infected over with mock affection. Maggots spilled out of rotten holes in the walking corpse’s cheek.
“Nick, please just kill the thing.”
“Oh no. Get out a vial and needle. We’re bringing him back so we can settle this debate.”
Kate stared at Nick with an incredulous gaze. “Half of his face is missing. I thought we agreed that we could only bring back fresh ones.”
“Baby, sometimes you have to accept being wrong. Making excuses is not a good look for you,” Nick laughed. Kate crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, fighting the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’m kidding. I know you’re always right and—”
