Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation by Joshua Jared Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

they move.
Spend tomorrow getting a feel for the area where I want the forward camp
constructed. Then, you can head back.”
     
    *
* *
     
    The spot
in question was near the western edge of the park, close to where it brushed up
against the Targhee National Forest. While the raiders couldn’t simply drive
into the heart of Yellowstone from that location – there were no roads – they
could head either north or south to get around us, but I doubted they would do so.
The prophet was not an idiot, and he had to know, or suspect, that we’d secure any
secondary routes. In fact, we already had sentries keeping watch, and the
bridges and roads were mined. We could destroy them whenever we chose, along
with anyone unfortunate enough to be using them at the time.
    The plan
was solid. They were going to come at us here, likely on dirt bikes, which
could easily handle the terrain, with a variety of four wheel drive vehicles to
carry supplies. This would also have the effect of keeping the raiders largely
out of sight. It’s easy to watch the highways. They are unobstructed, readily
visible ribbons that naturally draw the eye of anyone flying overhead. The
wilderness, on the other hand, seems to blend. A bright red truck driving
across a meadow might be spotted, but men moving slowly, wearing drab colors
could be overlooked. They would do whatever necessary to offset the advantage
our aircraft held. Yes, it would almost definitely be right here.
    “What do
you think?”
    Mary
pointed at a nearby rise. “I say we put the camp there. We’ll have the high
ground.”
    “Too
many trees. Our vision would be limited. Try again.”
    Mary
scowled but didn’t say anything at first, instead marching a quarter mile west
before stopping.
    “What
about that one?”
    The
mound of earth in question wasn’t as tall as the previous choice, but it was
surrounded by mostly open ground, going out at least a hundred yards.
    “Minimal
cover, but anyone up there should have a good line of sight in all directions.
Dale, run on over and take a look. Make sure it has whatever we need.”
    He did
so without comment.
    “Those
two are pretty quiet,” observed Lieutenant Gikas. He had accompanied us so he
could inform the captain and others in Yellowstone’s leadership where we were
going to set up the base and to issue his own veto if we made a poor choice.
    “They
tend to be,” I replied.
    “Are
they as good a shot as people say?”
    “Hell,
yes!” My daughter was nodding vigorously.
    “Mary,
mind you language.”
    She gave
me a look and giggled. So much for parental discipline.
    Lifting
her radio, she waved at Dale who was by then standing atop the hillock. “When I
wave again, shoot the water bottle.”
    Mary
swallowed the last few gulps before setting it on the ground and walking off.
    “He’s
about six hundred yards away,” pointed out Gikas.
    “That
little?” Mary stepped forward, to stand approximately four feet from the
bottle.
    “I don’t
think…”
    She
waved, and a bullet struck the target dead center, sending it spinning.
    “Now,
both of you tell me if that does or does not deserve a ‘Hell, yes!’.”
    The
lieutenant shook his head. “I know you’ve been struggling to stay alive for
more than three years now, but, honestly, there are safer ways to demonstrate
skill.”
    “Tara,”
I asked, “was Mary in any danger?”
    “No.”
    “See,”
declared the teenager, “they really are super good. They can hit anything at
three hundred yards with open sights, and they hit zombies in the head with a
scope at more than a thousand, consistently.”
    “Really?”
Gikas turned to regard Tara, then me.
    “It’s
true. Like one of my friends said, way back when we first met them, they are
Olympic caliber and definitely among the best ever.”
    “My dad
here isn’t nearly as good,” added Mary, “but he has killed enough zombies and
raiders that I don’t feel the need to run away from home or to die