100 Days in Deadland

One of the other men stepped forward. “You’re taking things that don’t belong to you.”


“And it belongs to you?” Clutch countered. “I knew Mabel, and she’s lying dead inside.”

“It doesn’t matter, Clutch. It’s the rules,” Sean said. “All supplies must go through the Fox Hills militia for reallocation. We divvy them out to citizens based on need.”

Clutch chuckled, though there was no humor in the sound. “Based on whose need? Yours or theirs?”

“You’ll turn over the truck, the supplies, and that girl with you,” another man called out, pointing at me.

“Good luck with that,” Clutch said before turning back to Sean. “Where’s the government order establishing a militia?”

“There’s no government anymore,” Sean replied.

“Camp Fox has fallen?”

Sean stammered. “We—we’re working in collaboration with the National Guard. We’re helping them out.”

“And who’s in charge of this little militia?” Clutch asked.

“Doyle,” one of the men said. “And he’ll kick your ass for getting in our way.”

“Let me see the government order from Camp Fox instating Doyle as head of the militia,” Clutch said. “Until then, you’re all just bandits. And, I’ll shoot any man who tries to take anything of mine.”

The men kept their fully automatic rifles raised.

“But Clutch…” Sean pleaded

“You going to shoot me, boy?” Clutch guffawed at the man who looked about my age. “You might get in a lucky shot or two, but I guaran-fucking-tee that I’m taking every last one of your sorry asses with me. And I don’t give a flying fuck that you’ve sold seed corn to me before, Sean.”

“Let’s just kill this asshole and be done with it,” one of the men said, and I leveled the rifle to aim dead center in the middle of his forehead.

“Dibs on the girl,” the third man added.

“Fuck you,” I called out, keeping my aim steady.

“Soon, girly,” the man with the toothy grin said.

Sean patted the air. “There’s going to be no shooting today. We’re leaving.” The men around him raised an uproar. Sean snapped around to his compatriots. “We’re leaving! This place is going to be crawling with zeds soon enough the way it is.” Sean turned to Clutch, looking exasperated. “You can keep this stuff from today, just because we have a history. But the militia is in charge around here. You’d be best to join up or get out of our way. And your little girl over there needs to be moved in with the other civilians at our camp for protection. The rules have changed. I’d watch your back if I were you.”


With that final warning, they climbed into their truck. One of the men in the truck bed fired several shots into the sky. They whooped and one flipped us off as they sped away, kicking up rocks.

“Assholes,” I muttered, coming around to stand by Clutch.

“Sean was right.” He looked at me. “We’re going to have to watch our backs. They’ve seen us. Sean knows where I live. And they know I won’t play along with their games. That makes me an enemy. As for you…” He looked me up and down.

I shivered, even though the sun shone brightly in the sky. “Then we’d best avoid them.”

He locked the lift gate and headed to the driver’s side. “These guys are nothing but Doyle’s dogs, using the fa?ade of a militia to take what they want.”

“Who’s this Doyle guy?” I asked. “Someone to worry about?”

“He’s a cocky asshole who’s owned the surplus store for decades. He’s also one hell of a survivalist. Armageddon would’ve been a wet dream for him.”

****

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