Siege (As the World Dies 3)

In Juan’s little abode, he stretched out on the sofa, his thoughts on Jenni and the kids and all that had happened since the first day. He gnawed on his scarred thumbnail, the nervous habit somehow soothing. Jack padded out of Jason’s bedroom to flop tiredly next to the sofa. Reaching down, Juan began to stroke the dog’s head thoughtfully.

Nerit caught a few hours of sleep, then rose early to sit with Kevin on the city hall roof, sipping soda and looking over the defense plans. At one point, he reached over and took her hand and she squeezed it tight. They gazed at each other, not saying a word, then went back to the plans.

Calhoun and Jason worked deep into the night on the last minute wiring to some of the defenses.

Katarina fell asleep alone in her bed, clutching her rifle and wearing Bill’s shirt.

Peggy silently watched her little boy, Cody, drink his chocolate milk laced with poison, then tucked him into his bed and kissed him one last time.

She waited until he was gone, then with tears streaming down her face, rose and entered the bathroom. It was there she found her own personal peace at the end of a razor blade and faded from the world knowing that she and her child would never know the horror of the zombie armies against the walls or the agony of being eaten alive.

And then the sun rose. . .

Chapter 33

1. Final Exit of the Wickedest Woman in Texas

Politics was a fickle lover.

One moment you were the hero, the next the villain. But if you were clever, you could be the hero once again. The salvation to the masses. The public was immensely short-sighted with no memory to speak of. Even Nixon had been immortalized for his virtues when he had died.

The Senator tucked her hair up from her face with her hand. It had taken some hard work, but her bouffant was firmly in place. Studying her image in the mirror she felt a surge of pride. Her appearance was dignified and feminine but with a touch of strength. She had discarded her darker suits for a soft pink one with rose satin lapels. Her shoes were sensible and her jewelry was just the right level of gold and quartz to be perfectly understated yet elegant.

Fixing her cuffs, she nodded to herself.

This would be an excellent morning.

Her long days and nights alone in the house had given her time to think.

She realized now her own failings. She had taken too strong of an approach back at the mall. People sti

ll could not appreciate a woman’s strength. Instead of taking the strong, stately role she had worn at the mall, she should have taken the motherly approach. People were sheep, but they were stupid sheep stuck in stereotypes.

She reached into her coat and checked her gun one more time. The holster fit nicely and was hidden under her suit jacket. She had ransacked the house from top to bottom and had found the holster and the small . 22 in one of the desk drawer. A rifle may seem a bit too masculine for her to wield when approaching the fort. The undead were a concern, but she was certain she could deal with them as long as she kept calm. They had slowed down significantly as time and the elements had taken their toll.

The zombies were not the threat they had been in the early days. They were laughably easy to evade and kill as long as they were low in numbers.

In the countryside, they were few and far between.

Picking up her small suitcase off the bed, she smiled, feeling her face stretch into the highly practiced gracious smile Raleigh had taught her to adopt. With a little laugh,she wondered what the little faggot was doing now. Probably wandering around half-eaten like the rest. Unless the undead had cracked his skull open like a boiled egg and eaten his brain.

After a blase shrug, she walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the front door. The truck she had arrived in waited outside. She had cleared out the zombies from around the house over the last few weeks.

She stepped neatly over a few rotting bodies on her way to the truck. Once settled behind the wheel, she patted her suitcase and smiled.

It would be good to approach the fort with a motherly smile in place, her well-prepared speech spilling from her lips ringing out as though it was flowing from her heart. She would even let tears spring to her eyes. They would have pity on her and take her in. She would be humble and repentant before them.

Slowly, she would work her way back into their hearts and back to the top.

But this time, oh, yes, this time, she would be Mother Teresa, the Virgin Mary, and Princess Diana all rolled into one. They would forgive her past and embrace her as one of their own. It would be only a matter of time before she ousted Travis and became the fort leader. Then, she would slowly, but surely make the fort believe in her special plans for them.

The drive toward the fort was boring. The sun was just barely rising and a scattered mist gave the impression of wandering ghosts flowing over the fields. She hummed to herself as she drove and couldn’t help but smile.

Failure was not an option to her. She had taken a hard knock, but she knew how to recover. Lord knows if George Bush could win a second term in office way back when, she sure as hell could get her ass into the fort.

Cresting the hill, she looked down at the fort and gasped. The walls were a lot more extensive than she had remembered the photos showing and there seemed to be catapults mounted on top of buildings. A lot of the town had been demolished, but there was a no man’s land leading up to the fort walls for a two block radius in every direction except for a large expanse before the hotel.

“Interesting,” she said.