admitted.
“It's okay,” Heather said softly, eyes tearing. “I'll see them in heaven,” she said.
“Don't talk like that,” Bert said, choking up. He rocked her gently.
“You be good or I'll haunt you,” Heather said, pulling his head down for a kiss. He cradled her as her body slumped, all life leaving it. He stroked her face with his fingers as he cried.
Adam arrived with the kit and handed it to Quincy, knowing it was too late. He kicked the raptor that had bit Heather angrily. John looked up, feeling his eyes sting as the skies opened up with heaven's own tears. Somehow, it was appropriate he thought.
~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~
In the morning they took stock of the butcher's bill. Four of their number were dead including Chen Saito who'd defended his wife with a katana and paid with his life. Ten people were injured; fortunately their injuries were moderate and not critical. The Browns were cautiously optimistic that they'd survive the night. Whether or not they survived the loss of blood and any possible infection was anyone's guess.
No one had slept; all had kept a wary fearful eye on the perimeter, certain death would come for them next. They had fought off the animals but several people had been injured or killed. Sal had been accidentally shot by Nel, though he told her he didn't hold a grudge. She nursed him back to health and apparently that led to a relationship.
At noon, despite the weather, they held a funeral for the dead. All were cremated in the community bonfire. John soaked it with sap they'd found that burned nice plus a couple gallons of fuel. It went up with a roar; a proper funeral pyre to their Valkyrie and her companions or the best they could arrange.
Bert stood at the front of the others, tears mingling with the rain. He looked up to the sky, then to the fire. Rick came over and grabbed his shoulder. The two men looked at each other, empathizing with each other. Denise came over and hugged Bert's leg. He looked down and hefted the girl, holding her close.
~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~
Many of the cars and shelters had been damaged, and a lot of weapons used. Ammo was now low and a very big concern. Gerald's coil guns were a big hit, though they didn't have much stopping power. He'd used them in defense of the community, shooting out a window until a raptor had gotten in too close and he'd been forced to retreat. His window and side of his motor home had been torn and broken for his efforts, but he didn't seem to regret the damage.
The coil guns had proven themselves, but they only had so many. They were also concerned about how long they'd last, and how they'd hold up in the wet and mud outside. Bert set aside his grief long enough to teach others how to make more primitive weapons. They started to make more homemade boar spears and bows.
John dug out his crossbow, compound bow and arrow set. He'd toyed with them briefly but hadn't liked them. He'd considered selling them on Craigslist or E-bay; now he was glad he hadn't.
Another couple dug out an old archery set from their pile of shed and garage stuff. It was something from the man's youth, but the arrows were missing.
“That's fine, the bows are great,” John told them. Victor quietly handed them two quivers of arrows he'd bought off of Joy. She'd finished making the last set the morning she'd died. They made a plan to make fresh arrows; they'd need a constant supply.
Two horses had been clawed up, one bit. The animals were too precious to loose, so Quincy rigged a sling for the wounded mares and stallion. Once the animals were checked over, Quincy led Victor and others in the slaughtering of the dead raptors and other animals.
John left them to that and went to sharpening stakes. These he grimly drove into the ground at an angle around the perimeter of the outside wall. He had to leave the entrance roads alone, but the other areas would have a little more protection. He found it was easiest to drive a flattened stake into the ground at
“It's okay,” Heather said softly, eyes tearing. “I'll see them in heaven,” she said.
“Don't talk like that,” Bert said, choking up. He rocked her gently.
“You be good or I'll haunt you,” Heather said, pulling his head down for a kiss. He cradled her as her body slumped, all life leaving it. He stroked her face with his fingers as he cried.
Adam arrived with the kit and handed it to Quincy, knowing it was too late. He kicked the raptor that had bit Heather angrily. John looked up, feeling his eyes sting as the skies opened up with heaven's own tears. Somehow, it was appropriate he thought.
~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~
In the morning they took stock of the butcher's bill. Four of their number were dead including Chen Saito who'd defended his wife with a katana and paid with his life. Ten people were injured; fortunately their injuries were moderate and not critical. The Browns were cautiously optimistic that they'd survive the night. Whether or not they survived the loss of blood and any possible infection was anyone's guess.
No one had slept; all had kept a wary fearful eye on the perimeter, certain death would come for them next. They had fought off the animals but several people had been injured or killed. Sal had been accidentally shot by Nel, though he told her he didn't hold a grudge. She nursed him back to health and apparently that led to a relationship.
At noon, despite the weather, they held a funeral for the dead. All were cremated in the community bonfire. John soaked it with sap they'd found that burned nice plus a couple gallons of fuel. It went up with a roar; a proper funeral pyre to their Valkyrie and her companions or the best they could arrange.
Bert stood at the front of the others, tears mingling with the rain. He looked up to the sky, then to the fire. Rick came over and grabbed his shoulder. The two men looked at each other, empathizing with each other. Denise came over and hugged Bert's leg. He looked down and hefted the girl, holding her close.
~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~
Many of the cars and shelters had been damaged, and a lot of weapons used. Ammo was now low and a very big concern. Gerald's coil guns were a big hit, though they didn't have much stopping power. He'd used them in defense of the community, shooting out a window until a raptor had gotten in too close and he'd been forced to retreat. His window and side of his motor home had been torn and broken for his efforts, but he didn't seem to regret the damage.
The coil guns had proven themselves, but they only had so many. They were also concerned about how long they'd last, and how they'd hold up in the wet and mud outside. Bert set aside his grief long enough to teach others how to make more primitive weapons. They started to make more homemade boar spears and bows.
John dug out his crossbow, compound bow and arrow set. He'd toyed with them briefly but hadn't liked them. He'd considered selling them on Craigslist or E-bay; now he was glad he hadn't.
Another couple dug out an old archery set from their pile of shed and garage stuff. It was something from the man's youth, but the arrows were missing.
“That's fine, the bows are great,” John told them. Victor quietly handed them two quivers of arrows he'd bought off of Joy. She'd finished making the last set the morning she'd died. They made a plan to make fresh arrows; they'd need a constant supply.
Two horses had been clawed up, one bit. The animals were too precious to loose, so Quincy rigged a sling for the wounded mares and stallion. Once the animals were checked over, Quincy led Victor and others in the slaughtering of the dead raptors and other animals.
John left them to that and went to sharpening stakes. These he grimly drove into the ground at an angle around the perimeter of the outside wall. He had to leave the entrance roads alone, but the other areas would have a little more protection. He found it was easiest to drive a flattened stake into the ground at
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