The Coalition: Part II The Lord Of The Living (COALITON OF THE LIVING Book 2) by Robert Mathis Kurtz

survive on nothing but flesh. As they walked along, he pointed at the explosion of greenery that was sprouting out of every crevice in the asphalt and from every space you could imagine. Limbs and leaves were poking out of doors and windows, gutter s and roofs.
    “I wonder if we could eat any of that stuff.” Ron stated.
    Jean stopped in her tracks, and his first thought was that she’d spotted danger. His breath caught in his chest and his fingers were already reaching for one of his .45s , and he checked to make sure Oliver was near enough to pull in close.
    “That stuff is poke berry plant, she said. You’ve heard of poke salad,” Jean said. And before he could say or do anything, she jogged over to a wild patch of green plants and began to strip the leaves from the stems and stuff them into the blue nylon bag hanging from her belt. In a moment, she had filled the bag with the leaves. “I’ll show you guys how to cook it when we get back.”
    “Is it any good?” Oliver asked.
    “Haven’t you guys ever had poke salad?”
    Both of her boys shook their heads. Jean laughed as they pushed on. “I can see I’m going to have to educate you both. My dad taught me all of the things that grow here in the state that you can eat.” As they walked along, watching everything around them, ready for anything that might come, she went on and they listened to her listing some of the wild plants that one could eat.
    As the few miles vanished beneath their boots, they soon found themselves standing at the base of the tower where they all now lived. Their conversation about wild plants was still on as Ron inserted the key into the lock and opened the door.
    “You mean to tell me that you can eat kudzu?” he asked.
    “Sure can,” Jean informed them. “Not just the leaves, but the stems and the roots, too. I’ll show you how to cook that stuff. If you guys want fresh veggies, I know everything that can grow around here that we can eat. But we’ll start with the poke salad tonight,” she finished.
    As they walked into the stairwell, Oliver stopped them and pointed toward the sky.
    “That sailor take warning stuff was no lie,” he said. “Look at the clouds.”
    Ron and Jean looked north, and sure enough a vast bank of very dark clouds was sailing in from the northwest. The front was moving so quickly that they could see it tracking along, bringing darkness with it as it sped toward them.
    Closing the door and sending the bolt home, Ron slammed the metal bars across the door to reinforce it. “We lucked out, I reckon,” he said. “If we’d been out there much longer, the storm would have caught us. We’d better hurry up to the roof.”
    The staircase was alive then with the echoes of their footsteps as they climbed up, halting from time to time to catch their breath. “Twelfth floor walk-up,” Jean said. “Charming bungalow roofside.”
    Ron would have laughed, but he was too winded. All he could do was smile and push on. And soon they were at the top, unlocking that last door and peering out to make sure the coast was clear. Then the door was shut and locked behind them and the gravel was crunch-crunching under their feet as they headed to home and hearth, such as it was.
    “Ron, look.” Jean had her hand on his shoulder and he drew up, turned, and looked where she was pointing.
    “Jesus H. Christ,” he said. Ron didn’t like cursing in front of Oliver, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. His eyes were on one of the buildings across the street from his makeshift penthouse. It had been a nondescript office building in years gone by, and was two floors taller than the structure on which his blockhouse was planted. The place was as broken and open as any other in town, and he was never surprised occasionally to spot a few zombies in the windows or even having made their way to the top to wander aimlessly before going back into that gutted place.
    But, now, this time, there were dozens of the damned dead