The Rise of Macon: A Zombie Novel (Macon Saga Book 2) by Micah Gurley Page B
Authors: Micah Gurley
Tags: The Rise of Macon
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just looking to get out and back to our people."
Abe accepted his word, and turned to talk to Billy privately.
"The decision was made to help those people who needed it. I think we need
to, besides I trust Wes and his son, they seem like good people."
"I agree," said Billy, "about those two, but
I don't think I trust all of them."
"Me either. How about we accept, but keep our guard up.
Kyle should be back tonight and can put his two cents in."
Billy nodded, then turned to Wes, ignoring the others.
"We agree, but when the professor comes back, you'll have to talk to him. He
calls the shots."
"Sounds okay to me," said Wes, reaching up and
putting his hand on his son's wide shoulders. "Let's get this stuff loaded
and out of here then.
Almost as if on cue, Patrick ran up with news. "We got
diseased coming."
"How many?" asked Billy.
"Just a few, but more seem to be wandering back."
"Okay, let's get the last bit loaded and get the truck
going."
The group turned to go, but not before Abe turned and saw
Dave leering at him, a smile on his face. He didn't like the guy, but he'd been
wrong before. Besides, he wasn't in charge.
The next few minutes rained pandemonium as everyone tried
to throw all the food they could in the back of the trailer. Wes, Rich, Billy,
Patrick and a few others headed out to stop the first of the diseased making
their way around the building. In one's and two, they were easily able to kill
the diseased, as they trudged up, but every kill brought two more, until
everyone had to fall back. Directions were yelled and Old Ben and a few others
jumped in the cab of the shiny black truck, now loaded and ready to go. Everyone
else jumped in the trailer, and slid the door closed, locking them in darkness.
"Next stop, Fort Macon, boys," said Patrick in
the black of the trailer. "And then we're going to make some
biscuits."
Chapter 9
Neil walked through the lobby of the motel, his gait
confident and sure. He'd spent extra time this morning making sure his uniform
was immaculate and his appearance well groomed. Three days had passed since they'd
moved into the hotel and marina. He'd spent that time shoring up his defenses
and getting organized. He was making a difference here, he was building
something and he knew this was where he belonged. Among these people who didn't
know how to survive, among these lambs, he was the shepherd. He'd found his
calling.
He spotted two of the new survivors making their way across
the other side of the lobby. They two spotted him, quickly dropped their gaze,
and continued walking. They were afraid of him and Neil had come to realize he
was okay with it. Better than okay, they needed to be scared, so he could keep
them alive. He knew what was best for them, even if they didn't. There were
more than thirty survivors now stationed at the Hotel and he was making them
into an army. An army that would bring justice to this island.
He almost made it to the front doors when he heard screams
coming from outside. Neil picked up his pace to find out why someone had broken
the noise restriction. He'd told everyone to keep the chatter down, but they
were amateurs, not yet the professionals he'd make them.
"Commander! Commander!"
Neil heard the words and smiled to himself. Neil knew
titles were important, and he was well suited to this one. There must be rules
and there must be someone in charge; that was him. Any organization would do
the same. He pushed open the glass door and saw one of the younger boys running
full out in his direction. The boy was moving at an angle, every few seconds
looking back over his shoulder, almost causing him to trip over himself.
Neil stopped outside the doors of the hotel and held up a
hand, indicating for the boy to stop. The teenager skidded to a stop in the
gravel parking lot and tried to talk, his words jumbled.
"Report, soldier, and say it clearly! And why are you
away from your post?" Neil demanded. He wouldn't have his soldiers
deserting their
Abe accepted his word, and turned to talk to Billy privately.
"The decision was made to help those people who needed it. I think we need
to, besides I trust Wes and his son, they seem like good people."
"I agree," said Billy, "about those two, but
I don't think I trust all of them."
"Me either. How about we accept, but keep our guard up.
Kyle should be back tonight and can put his two cents in."
Billy nodded, then turned to Wes, ignoring the others.
"We agree, but when the professor comes back, you'll have to talk to him. He
calls the shots."
"Sounds okay to me," said Wes, reaching up and
putting his hand on his son's wide shoulders. "Let's get this stuff loaded
and out of here then.
Almost as if on cue, Patrick ran up with news. "We got
diseased coming."
"How many?" asked Billy.
"Just a few, but more seem to be wandering back."
"Okay, let's get the last bit loaded and get the truck
going."
The group turned to go, but not before Abe turned and saw
Dave leering at him, a smile on his face. He didn't like the guy, but he'd been
wrong before. Besides, he wasn't in charge.
The next few minutes rained pandemonium as everyone tried
to throw all the food they could in the back of the trailer. Wes, Rich, Billy,
Patrick and a few others headed out to stop the first of the diseased making
their way around the building. In one's and two, they were easily able to kill
the diseased, as they trudged up, but every kill brought two more, until
everyone had to fall back. Directions were yelled and Old Ben and a few others
jumped in the cab of the shiny black truck, now loaded and ready to go. Everyone
else jumped in the trailer, and slid the door closed, locking them in darkness.
"Next stop, Fort Macon, boys," said Patrick in
the black of the trailer. "And then we're going to make some
biscuits."
Chapter 9
Neil walked through the lobby of the motel, his gait
confident and sure. He'd spent extra time this morning making sure his uniform
was immaculate and his appearance well groomed. Three days had passed since they'd
moved into the hotel and marina. He'd spent that time shoring up his defenses
and getting organized. He was making a difference here, he was building
something and he knew this was where he belonged. Among these people who didn't
know how to survive, among these lambs, he was the shepherd. He'd found his
calling.
He spotted two of the new survivors making their way across
the other side of the lobby. They two spotted him, quickly dropped their gaze,
and continued walking. They were afraid of him and Neil had come to realize he
was okay with it. Better than okay, they needed to be scared, so he could keep
them alive. He knew what was best for them, even if they didn't. There were
more than thirty survivors now stationed at the Hotel and he was making them
into an army. An army that would bring justice to this island.
He almost made it to the front doors when he heard screams
coming from outside. Neil picked up his pace to find out why someone had broken
the noise restriction. He'd told everyone to keep the chatter down, but they
were amateurs, not yet the professionals he'd make them.
"Commander! Commander!"
Neil heard the words and smiled to himself. Neil knew
titles were important, and he was well suited to this one. There must be rules
and there must be someone in charge; that was him. Any organization would do
the same. He pushed open the glass door and saw one of the younger boys running
full out in his direction. The boy was moving at an angle, every few seconds
looking back over his shoulder, almost causing him to trip over himself.
Neil stopped outside the doors of the hotel and held up a
hand, indicating for the boy to stop. The teenager skidded to a stop in the
gravel parking lot and tried to talk, his words jumbled.
"Report, soldier, and say it clearly! And why are you
away from your post?" Neil demanded. He wouldn't have his soldiers
deserting their
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