“We’ve been saying that for months now,” Clutch said.
Jase finally spoke up. “You’re not thinking straight. You’re all too desperate to live without zeds. Going after a couple hundred zeds is really dangerous. We’ve never done anything like this before. We’d have to burn them to the point that they can’t physically move, or else they could still survive.”
“Then we need to make sure they are thoroughly burned because not going after them is even more dangerous,” Tyler said. “Every day we can’t get to our vehicles and start land searches, the bandits clear out more of the surrounding area.”
“Well, if this boat is the new permanent location for Camp Fox, we need to make sure it’s not going to float away in the spring floods. The residents need to kick up their efforts at turning this from a temporary base to a home,” Griz said. “We’ll have to focus completely on building up our food reserves. Vicki thought we should build a greenhouse so we can grow vegetables this winter.”
The banter was giving me a headache, and I rubbed my eyes. We could argue these points until the zeds died off, even if it was twenty years from now. None of these discussions would keep us from starving. “Even if we find enough food to last the winter, we’ll need acres and acres of land in the spring to feed everyone. How can we do that if everyone stays on the Aurora? Who’s going to farm it?”
“Staying on the Aurora long term is too risky,” Clutch said. “Griz makes a good point about the spring floods. How the hell are we going to anchor the towboat and barges here so we don’t get washed away or broken apart in the spring?”
Tyler came to his feet and leaned forward on the table. “We’ve been rehashing this for too long. This isn’t a democracy, and the matter is no longer up for discussion. As commanding officer of Camp Fox, the Aurora is hereby renamed Camp Fox, so deal with it. Since it’s no longer our temporary location, we need to strengthen the infrastructure to support us long term.” He pointed at the window. “We’re burning those bridge bastards outside tomorrow and converting this camp into a sustainable fortress. Anyone who isn’t one hundred percent on board with me as CO—commanding officer—is free to leave right now.”
There were no retorts, and I assumed everyone had been stunned into silence like I had been. I stared at Clutch, who was looking right back at me. I was sure I looked as frustrated as he did. In the corner, Jase sat with his head in his hands. I didn’t know the answer, but this plan had too much complexity and too many risks to feel right.
“You heard the captain,” Clutch said, the sergeant tone coming through his voice. “We’ve got a bonfire to plan and a base to protect.”
*
At fifteen hundred hours, twelve scouts in full gear loaded onto two pontoons and headed around the southern edge of the island to stay hidden from the bridge bastards. Zeds lingered on the small island, and we skirted around them rather than kill them, to not draw the bridge bastards’ attention. As we broke away from the island, I thought about the plan. It was a simple plan that seemed like a wasteful use of precious fuel and ammo while putting eight people at risk. The plan? Pen the zeds in on the bridge, and burn them. Shoot any outliers.
My pontoon, led by Clutch, was tasked with sneaking onto the eastern shore, where there were more trees to hide our approach. Trees could also hide zeds, but they tended to shuffle their feet, while we could move nearly silently. We were counting on the zeds’ tendency to herd together and hoping that one of those herds weren’t lingering in the woods. Our pontoon’s job was to lay gasoline on the east end of the bridge while the west team distracted the zeds.