OUTNUMBERED volume 4: A Zombie Apocalypse Series Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Robert Schobernd
of apples and pears.
One of the books we had taken from a library had a short paragraph that described the methods of food preservation we would need to employ:
In 1815 most Americans ate what they grew or hunted locally. Corn and beans were common, along with pork. In the north, cows provided milk, butter, and beef, while in the south, where cattle were less common, venison and other game provided meat. Preserving food in 1815, before the era of refrigeration, required smoking, drying, or salting meat. Vegetables were kept in a root cellar or pickled.
As a group we had our work cut out for us. It was learn by success and failure or go hungry. Luckily, we had an experienced farmer in our midst. Tony Osmond had grown up on a family farm in the region and came to us after his parents and a younger sister were victims of the zombies. I expected Tony and Shana Thompson to move in together at any time and add to the list of potential parents that continued to grow. Since a civil authority no longer existed to record marriage contracts, all of us who desired to mate simply cohabitated with a person of our choice.
~*~*~*~
On the third day of May, a Wednesday, Barney "Pops" Halcom, James Butler and Barbara Bales left Deliverance to search for horse drawn farm equipment. They planned to make stops along route 59 north to Worthington, Minnesota and then return on route 71. They would stop at farms along the way in hopes that some of the farmers had preserved equipment passed down through their families. A list would be made of any suitable equipment they found and trucks and trailers would then be scheduled to gather the items.
Before supper time, the Ford pickup they'd left in sped up the gravel drive to Deliverance creating a dust cloud behind it. I heard panic in James voice on the radio. "This is James. Whoever is on the watchtower, open the gate for us. I need Tom and the leadership committee to meet us ASAP. Pop's dead, he was shot."
Morgan and I were the first to arrive. Shane, Andrea, John and Ed were only a minute behind us. Barbara's eyes were red and she began to cry as we gathered. "Somebody shot Grandpa. He's dead. They just ambushed us and killed him for no reason."
Verlie had come out when the committee was requested because Barb was her daughter, and Barney was Morgan's father. She hugged Barbara close and took her inside. Many of our people exited the building and stood by. James stood by Morgan. "I'm so sorry Morgan. There was nothing we could do. They just shot Pop for no reason." Tears ran down Morgan's cheeks, but a hard glint shown in his eyes.
"James," I said, "start at the beginning and tell us everything that happened."
"We'd been stopping at farms along the highway and found a couple of things to bring back. The list is on the back seat. We were near the state line, about ten or so miles south of it when we crested a small rise and saw three stinky smellies standing in the road. They were about two hundreds yards off. Pop stopped the truck and grabbed that old Remington 700 he's partial to. He opened the door, dropped the glass, and put the rifle through the opening. He dropped all three of those zombies one right after the other, no misses. Then we heard another shot from a distance off, and Pop kind of grunted before he dropped to the ground. A blacktop road ran off the highway we were on and up a ways to a little hill. A dark blue truck sat there, a Dodge I'm sure. Barb and me were on the passenger side of the truck and ducked down as two more shots were fired. I heard air bleeding from a tire. They shot the front left tire. Me and Barb shot back and both of us emptied our mags before that truck took off and went flying over the hill. I don't know if we hit anybody, but I'm positive that truck's got a whole bunch of holes in it."
We'd just suffered another senseless loss of life to some lowlife outlaw scum. And there wasn't a thing we could do about it. We had no idea who it was or where
One of the books we had taken from a library had a short paragraph that described the methods of food preservation we would need to employ:
In 1815 most Americans ate what they grew or hunted locally. Corn and beans were common, along with pork. In the north, cows provided milk, butter, and beef, while in the south, where cattle were less common, venison and other game provided meat. Preserving food in 1815, before the era of refrigeration, required smoking, drying, or salting meat. Vegetables were kept in a root cellar or pickled.
As a group we had our work cut out for us. It was learn by success and failure or go hungry. Luckily, we had an experienced farmer in our midst. Tony Osmond had grown up on a family farm in the region and came to us after his parents and a younger sister were victims of the zombies. I expected Tony and Shana Thompson to move in together at any time and add to the list of potential parents that continued to grow. Since a civil authority no longer existed to record marriage contracts, all of us who desired to mate simply cohabitated with a person of our choice.
~*~*~*~
On the third day of May, a Wednesday, Barney "Pops" Halcom, James Butler and Barbara Bales left Deliverance to search for horse drawn farm equipment. They planned to make stops along route 59 north to Worthington, Minnesota and then return on route 71. They would stop at farms along the way in hopes that some of the farmers had preserved equipment passed down through their families. A list would be made of any suitable equipment they found and trucks and trailers would then be scheduled to gather the items.
Before supper time, the Ford pickup they'd left in sped up the gravel drive to Deliverance creating a dust cloud behind it. I heard panic in James voice on the radio. "This is James. Whoever is on the watchtower, open the gate for us. I need Tom and the leadership committee to meet us ASAP. Pop's dead, he was shot."
Morgan and I were the first to arrive. Shane, Andrea, John and Ed were only a minute behind us. Barbara's eyes were red and she began to cry as we gathered. "Somebody shot Grandpa. He's dead. They just ambushed us and killed him for no reason."
Verlie had come out when the committee was requested because Barb was her daughter, and Barney was Morgan's father. She hugged Barbara close and took her inside. Many of our people exited the building and stood by. James stood by Morgan. "I'm so sorry Morgan. There was nothing we could do. They just shot Pop for no reason." Tears ran down Morgan's cheeks, but a hard glint shown in his eyes.
"James," I said, "start at the beginning and tell us everything that happened."
"We'd been stopping at farms along the highway and found a couple of things to bring back. The list is on the back seat. We were near the state line, about ten or so miles south of it when we crested a small rise and saw three stinky smellies standing in the road. They were about two hundreds yards off. Pop stopped the truck and grabbed that old Remington 700 he's partial to. He opened the door, dropped the glass, and put the rifle through the opening. He dropped all three of those zombies one right after the other, no misses. Then we heard another shot from a distance off, and Pop kind of grunted before he dropped to the ground. A blacktop road ran off the highway we were on and up a ways to a little hill. A dark blue truck sat there, a Dodge I'm sure. Barb and me were on the passenger side of the truck and ducked down as two more shots were fired. I heard air bleeding from a tire. They shot the front left tire. Me and Barb shot back and both of us emptied our mags before that truck took off and went flying over the hill. I don't know if we hit anybody, but I'm positive that truck's got a whole bunch of holes in it."
We'd just suffered another senseless loss of life to some lowlife outlaw scum. And there wasn't a thing we could do about it. We had no idea who it was or where
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