The Fleet by John Davis Page B

agreeing.
    “Nope,” Johnny
said. “But I do know it doesn't matter at this point. Hell, beans
is a lot better than most like us have. The ones lucky enough to
have made it this far in one piece.”
    “Just feels
like we've been abandoned. That's all.” another one of the cowboys
said. Spitting a bit of tobacco down at the entrance to their
large, dimly lit cave.
    “We were
abandoned hundreds of years before this,” Johnny replied. “Our
people have been on their own out in the drifts for centuries now.
The Legion didn't give a rat's ass about us, nor the Colonials. And
you can bet your sweet one that whoever is left is right there with
'em,” Johnny said. “Gotta keep surviving. That's what we gotta
do.”
    “I hadn't had
a woman in over a year.” one of the cowboys admitted. Striking
laughter as the entire group began to laugh without control for a
spell.
    “If you find
one,” Johnny said. “I figure you'll be eating something besides
beans, eh?”
    His comment
broke the cave out into thunderous laughter. Partially due to the
joking conversation, while most of it stemmed for a severe lack of
sleep.
    Johnny and his
group had done the best they could in surviving for nearly a
complete year. As the infection first broke, forcing so many
citizens into a state that was near Zombie-like; Geartown was
overrun. Followed by all of the towns around it. Each falling like
dominoes as reports of the infection began to show up on other
planets within the Skyla System.
    Three months.
That's all the time it took for the horde of infected to overrun
every known city and military installation to the point of
evacuation. Pulling into orbit and trying to figure out what to do
next.
    Stale bread,
shitty beans, the occasional piece of fruit and anything wet they
could hold down. That's what had been on the menu of survival for
the outlaws turned survivors.
    He remained
tough in front of the men. They looked to him, and Johnny
understood that. He quietly watched the sun begin to slowly drape
over the horizon, just as he had done nearly every night since the
infection.
    Wondering if
help would ever arrive.
     
    *
     
    The morning
sunlight brought with it a welcomed glare. One that Adam Michaels
had not seen in quite some time. And though he missed the beauty of
a sunrise, it was the warmth of the sun which followed that really
seemed to capture him.
    His tasks were
much safer than those of his longtime friend. But Adam knew his
work would be cut out for him. Helping so many people settle into
to Resilience as quickly and comfortably as possible. Wondering if
Dalton hadn't left him to do it – knowing it would be a bitch from
day one.
    A few infected
had charged the city since the fleet's arrival. Each of them
quickly dispatched by way of a bullet. Compliments of one of
Resilience's gun towers.
    The fact of it
was, before the infection began, not many people had lived on the
planet which had come to be known as Second Glimmeria. Such a scare
population made it ideal to settle on. A minimal threat, unlike
what Dalton was coasting into with the drifts.
    The problem,
as Adam quickly discovered, was that it was so scarcely inhabited
because such a large portion of the planet was not fit for living.
Nearly one half of the large planet permanently faced the Skyla
System's sun cluster, which brought desert like conditions every
single day. No sunrise or sunset, just scorching heat which would
kill a man inside of an hour if extreme precautions were not
taken.
    That said,
nearly one half of the planet faced deep space with every passing
day. Always dark, cold and filled with the bluster of high winds.
The type of cold that would break even the toughest man's soul.
    Leaving a
small portion directly in the center of the planet a spot worth
living. A tall ridge of mountains in which the Husk had built their
proud city. Beyond that, a vast lay of flat fields and some thick
forest. That's all that sat in what locals had begun calling, the
comfort