Reclaiming America #9Mature

Word Count: 537


Military camps were slowly failing. One by one, they started to fall apart at the seams. An infection would break out. Food supplies would run dry and anarchy over unfair rules would rip their fragile society apart.

Soldiers and civilians alike that managed to escape the descending chaos left the area together. They knew of a few camps that were holding it together better than most.

Camps that had comprised of thousands were decimated in the space of a few awful hours. The largest camp anyone knew of now, existed in Wyoming. Tents covered acres of farmland like an ugly, multicolored rash.

There were a few that had assumed the roles of leaders and together worked to keep their three hundred or so survivors together and living in relative peace. They had devised a way to keep everyone busy and make use of every able pair of hands they had. Those that knew how planted crops and taught some that didn’t already know. Others made repairs to the massive farm house, or taught people how to wire and plumb and build. Skills were shared between them all, until they had a work force strong enough to hold the camp together. It distracted them from the dangers that lurked just beyond their lines of sight, and lifted spirits.

After three weeks of lurching from one disaster to another, this camp has finally found its feet, and was ready to take on the derelict town of Riverton. Though people were happy to be working and attempting to live life as normal, living life under some canvas was neither comfortable nor comforting. People were restless. They felt vulnerable and the complaints about it were rising in number.

So, three weeks after the outbreak began, military and civilian forces left the relative safety of the farm and headed into the town.

It took a day to clear the main streets and enough buildings for them to rest in for a night. The second day was spent establishing a perimeter around an area big enough to house and provide for over three hundred people, plus whatever new arrivals might turn up.

By the time Robby arrived, they had cleared one block.

When Harley got there, they had three blocks under their belts and were well on their way to reclaiming a fourth.

“This is impressive,” Harley breathed, stepping through the crudely thrown together gates. The streets had been cleaned and the area almost looked like it was untouched. If it weren’t for the walls they’d built to keep the zombies out, he might have thought he was walking through something that only existed in his dreams.

“You’ll be expected to pull your weight around here and help out,” the soldier escorting him through the streets to the cleanest free building he knew of. “If you intend to stay, anyway.”

“Of course,” Harley nodded.

“I’ll go let them know you’re here,” the soldier nodded once and left Harley stood by the building he was to stay in. Curious faces looked at him, their gazes unsettling him a little. He guessed they hadn’t seen a new face in a while and did his best to ignore it as he let himself into the building. 

The End

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