Survivors Read Online Free PDF Page A

of them. Harris wondered about it, making a note to check it carefully as they passed, and panned onward. At the far end of the fields, he spotted the town.
    Even at this distance, he could see the medieval-looking gates that served as a main entrance. Harris quirked a grin behind the binoculars. The townsfolk were apparently a resourceful bunch. They’d used upended shipping containers as guard towers, improving them with roofs, ladders, and barbed wire. The gates themselves seemed to be made out of wrought iron, welded in spots to further strengthen it.
    The front of the town was not, however, where the smoke was coming from. The black funnel issued forth from the rear of the town, and through the binoculars Harris could dimly make out ant-sized people forming an ant-sized bucket brigade. He couldn’t be sure, but he also thought he saw a few men standing by with rifles.
    “They’re in trouble,” Harris said, speaking when Hal lowered the binoculars. The others looked over at him expectantly. “I don’t know what to make of it, though. I saw some armed men down there. They might all be hostile, for all we know. They might shoot us on sight. Opinions?”
    “They might also be friendly and in need of a few extra hands to handle the fire, sir,” said Allen.
    “Either way, we still need food,” chimed Hal.
    “Let’s go for it,” said Stiles, leaning heavily on his good leg.
    Harris considered. The group had been on foot most of the way eastward. Finding working vehicles was becoming harder and harder. Occasionally they’d get lucky and find one that would take them a few dozen miles before running out of gas or giving in to damage. Consequently, they had become quite adept at road marching, but there was no way they’d make it much farther without replenishing their supplies.
    With a nod, he waved the men forward, and they put all that hard march experience to work, making good time from the hill to the open fields in front of the town.
     

     
    It didn’t take Harris’s binoculars to make out the figures on the guard towers staring at the ragtag group upon its approach. That caused hackles to rise, but when no rifles came out, Harris and the others did their best to relax and remain placid, not making any threatening movements. As they drew nearer, they could make out more details.
    The town’s defenses were still under construction, Hal noted. Or, perhaps, they were being repaired. He couldn’t tell. Either way, it was impressive. They’d found a use for their now-useless cars, adding them to the barriers flanking the main gates. On the roofs of these cars stood riflemen, though each with his weapon shouldered. The men in the guard towers were similarly armed, but inactive. The threat was implicit, however; one hostile move, and the new arrivals would come under a hail of fire.
    “Afternoon,” Hal said, stepping past Harris and waving up at the guard towers, ignoring the annoyed look Harris shot at him. “My friends and I were heading east and noticed you were having a little trouble with fire. Anything we can do?”
    “Not unless you brought a fire engine and some hoses with you,” said one of the men in the guard tower. He had a strong look about him, and wore, half-hidden under an open button-down shirt, a bronze badge of office. “We’ve got it under control. Just a little excitement at the town clinic. Look, if you folks are after food or shelter, we’ll do what we can, but we can’t afford to be too trusting these days. You understand.”
    “Well, we are running a little low on vittles ourselves,” said Hal, thumbing his hat back to get a better look up at the man. “We’d be willing to trade for ’em, of course. Wouldn’t be asking for freebies. Though I have to get a discount. I’m a retired serviceman, see. Some things shouldn’t change, plague or no plague,” Hal said, flashing a grin.
    The man in the guard tower chuckled. “Name’s Keaton. Sheriff of Abraham.”
    “I’m