Zombie Dawn Exodus by Michael G. Thomas Page B

stock in the fact that you are all
still alive, safe, fed and warm. By these modern standards, we all
live a life of luxury, and you remember that next time any one of
you has a crazy idea like Tommy’s,” said Roger.
    It was enough for the crowd to understand, Roger
full well knew the limitations of the group. Few individuals
understood what was necessary for them all to live safely, but that
was what made his role so vital among these men and women.
    “That’s enough now but remember today, it’s an
important lesson, now go about your tasks, ever remembering the
risks that face us,” said Roger.
    The group sighed, suddenly saddened by the grim
reality shock that their leader had given them. They dispersed and
went about their daily business. The day went on in its usual
fashion. Life on a day-to-day basis required effort in order to
stay physically and mentally stimulated. Those who went out of
Everglade to forage for supplies had a specific job to do in life,
an adventure of a sort. For the rest of the populace, life revolved
around keeping watch over the facility, preparing food, and keeping
the community clean and healthy.
    The night passed on without incident, just as the
community had become accustomed. The following day, Dave arose to
again go out into the zombie world to procure the supplies
necessary for keep them all alive. What he would give for a Burger
King meal could simply not be explained. Roger did what he could to
keep life interesting in Everglade. Sadly, there was no substitute
for going out into a bustling town for an evening of entertainment.
The lack of electricity meant that they could have no TV, the fuel
was considered too valuable, keeping the generators for emergency
usage only.
     
    CHAPTER
FIVE
     
    MID-WEST, UNITED STATES
     
    It was a mild evening and Madison sat rocking in her
chair. She could just about hear the sounds of her father’s sermon
echoing around the walls of their church. He would blindly live
under the assumption that his daughter was always on the important
duties of defending their community, that she had duties which kept
her from his services. In reality, she sat cradling her AK47,
looking out across the open plains.
    It had taken months of bloodshed to purge their
small town of the zombie menace, that her father Richard Wells
called the Devil’s minions. Ever since that time she enjoyed what
quiet and peaceful time she could get.
    The small town’s old name was cast aside with the
rebirth of the place, like the phoenix her father had told her. The
shelter they now lived in they called Babylon. Of the thousands who
had lived there, only fifty five now inhabited the area. No walls
had ever been built around their homes, only the individual
defences of each building, as they were all too far apart to easily
create boundary walls.
    Babylon was miles from anywhere that had previously
contained people, a natural defence which the community relied
upon, supported by regular patrols and thick bars on their windows
and doors. Wells would never have them build walls, he said the
living should never have to live within the prison confines of
their own town and that they would use their labour to maintain a
free society. For this reason no alcohol was allowed, and every man
and woman was to be armed and ready at all times.
    The silence was broken as Madison heard the sound of
someone climbing her watch tower, the clumsy noise of a man
stumbling as his slung rifle bashed against the ladder. This was
the familiar sound of Justin. He appeared at the top.
    “Hey Maddy, what’s happening?” he asked.
    She acted politely, but was more than a little
annoyed that her peaceful evening had been interrupted. Justin was
a capable fighter but simple minded, and only ever interested in
how many women he could bed, which was growing ever more difficult
in the small and close knit community.
    “Hey, Justin, why aren’t you at service?” asked
Madison.
    “Oh come on, it bores me to