Anno Zombus Year 1 (Book 1): January by Dave Rowlands Read Free Book Online Page B

mentioned, while we passed the cattle, that though they might have to be left behind we could perhaps induce a stampede in the general direction the bandits attack from.  As the two encounters we have had with them both came from the opposite end of the property from the dirt track we were able to easily hide our vehicles from view by simply parking them on the far side of the barn from the archery range.  Butcher had slaughtered a couple of cows, butchering them expertly and packing the fresh flesh away in barrels of salt that had been loaded up into the boot of the Valiant.  The rest of the fresh meat had been taken into the kitchens.
     
 
     
As we began our return journey to the barn, Junior came running up to us shouting that they were here.  We followed him to the wall, and saw several men, most covered in blood, one of whom waved a stick with a white sock tied to it high in the air.  They stood within bow range, but far enough away so that none but The Twin could be certain of hitting them effectively.
     
 
     
“Who's in charge here?”  The largest of the bandits barked.  Fat Dealer and I looked at one another.  He nodded to me to take charge of the situation.
     
 
     
“That would be me.”  I said.
     
 
     
“Right.  I don't know how the fuck you managed to infect so many of my fucking men, or lure those fucking rotting things to us, but now we know where you are.  You're time is up.  Surrender now, let us have your bitches and we will allow some of you to leave alive.  None of us want any more deaths on our hands, do we?”  He shouted.
     
“Nice try dickhead.  I doubt there's any more of you that that pathetic bunch here.  Go fuck yourself!”  I yelled back, punctuating my words with an arrow that, to my credit, sailed past his face, taking a chunk out of his ear.  He yelped in pain.
     
 
     
“Fine!”  He shouted in return.  He ordered his men back to camp.  “See you tomorrow, dead men!”  His laugh as they retreated sounded as though it was meant to be mocking, but there was fear in it too.
     
 
     
I turned to Fat Dealer and said “We leave tonight.”
     
 
     
He shook his head.  “Tomorrow morning is better.  They'll be able to tell where we've gone if they can see headlights.”  I asked him if we had anywhere we could go.  He didn't answer.
     
 
     
evening
     
Beef stew tonight, and everybody ate their fill, even though nobody felt they could eat.  The morning would bring war and death.  On a small scale, perhaps, but we knew that the older members of the community who insisted on staying behind would die horribly.  Fat Dealer even pulled out his old shotgun for the occasion.  This was his land, he had lived here nearly fifty years now.  His wife was buried here, and one of his sons.  The other son had left, gone to Adelaide to go to university, and they were not on speaking terms.  Realistically speaking, the other son was likely dead before the one that had shared his last joint with The Kid.  The musicians were going to stay as well.  As they were the most proficient at creating sound, they had volunteered to try and stampede the cattle.  Farmer was being a complete arsehole, saying that I had doomed us all.  He then went up to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.  Archer looked like the decision was killing him, but he elected to leave, as his skills would come in handy.  Butcher needed to go also, and it was assumed that Farmer and his 'wife' would be going also.  Some of us would need to ride in the back of the Ute with the sheep.  That's going to be pleasant.  Farmer had already screamed his head off when he discovered what had been done to his car, and was insisting that nobody but he drive it.  He even tried to keep the keys to himself, until his 'wife' told him they needed to be in the car at all times, just in case.
     
 
     
Farmer's Wife and The Kid were talking quietly among themselves near the staircase.