Zombie Road | Book 8 | Crossroads of Chaos Simpson, A. (new books to read .txt) 📖

talked and ate, laughed and shared stories and news. The patrol was part of a National Guard unit that had been mobilized a day before the fall. When everything went crazy they had fought their way to an island in the Hudson River that was only accessible by train tracks or a poorly maintained road that ran through swampy marshlands. Thousands of the undead had chased them and surrounded the old Navy buildings that had been abandoned long ago. They fought until they were out of ammunition then fought with sticks and pipes. Eventually they killed them all then tore up the road and train bridge. More came and laid siege, hungering for them but unable to get across. They survived on fish and roots and what they could raid from nearby houses the first winter. The only thing that saved them was an early hard freeze that slowed the undead enough so they could run past them. They didn’t have to fight their way through the horde, they could go around it.

They talked openly about a small network of fortified towns in the Eastern States that would help each other when they could. He’d heard rumors of some but he didn’t know they were so organized this far east. He’d thought most of the settlements were in rural areas of Mississippi and Tennessee. Warm places close to the river and its ferries. Pennsylvania and New York had some thriving communities that had made it through the worst and were ready for the winter to come. He wasn’t surprised, he knew he’d missed a lot of news about the rebuilding. He had kind of checked out ever since he’d been back. He rarely listened to the radio or read the paper and if he didn’t overhear it at the bar then he was kind of clueless about all the progress being made. He’d tried to lose himself sailing all summer then drown himself in a bottle all winter. After time jumping, piloting a space ship and walking on alien planets hundreds of light years away the petty problems on earth had seemed trivial.

The communities this far removed from the trade routes were a lot more primitive than the walled cities of the Midwest. They lived more of a pioneer lifestyle where they used wood stoves for cooking, farmed small plots by hand and raised sheep, cows and chickens for meat. Unlike the pioneers, they had modern firearms, the fields were already cleared and a lot of the Pennsylvania Dutch and Amish had survived. It made things a lot easier for them.

“You should come back to base with us.” Rodriguez said around a mouthful of slightly outdated chocolate chip cookie. “I’m sure the First Sergeant would like to meet you.”

Jessie had been waiting for an invitation, if one hadn’t come, he would have asked. It solved his problem of what to do with Natalie. He wouldn’t be worried about her if she was among friends. He had to make sure she understood how important it was to stick to their story, though. And he wanted to make sure they really were friends. She couldn’t let a military outfit know who she was. Her story was simple and mostly true. Jessie had rescued her after her group had been killed and now she was in training to be a retriever’s assistant. No one would question it or ask many questions about the past. It was too painful.

“Go on.” Wallace told them when they had finished lunch. “We’ll meet you there. We were on our way back; we’ve been out here for a week. I’ll let our relief know to meet us here, they can take care of any followers that straggle in over the next few days. I’ll radio ahead, let them know you’re coming.”

Jessie followed her directions and found the overgrown entrance to the island road. Halfway down the causeway there was a drawbridge and a pair of guards. They may be living primitive now but there was logging equipment, a couple of bulldozers, track hoes and other machinery parked in an open-faced shed. A lot of fortifications and security improvements had been completed. The soldiers operated the crank, lowered the bridge, waved them through and raised it behind them.

“Just follow the main road. Top is at HQ, you can’t miss it.” One of soldiers told him.

Jessie saw a clean-shaven man in uniform standing in front of one of the buildings as he pulled up and shut off the engine. His uniform was pressed and worn proudly. He was slim, his dark hair peppered with gray and leaned on a cane. First Sergeant Miles waited on the sidewalk then greeted them warmly when they approached.

“Welcome to Camp Iona Mr. Meadows.”

“Thanks. I’m just Jessie,” Jessie said. “And this is Natalie. I’m teaching her the ropes, showing her the tricks to surviving out here.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He said and cut his eyes quickly between the two. She seemed awfully young to be doing any dangerous training but times had changed. Yes, they had.

“This is Jeremy.” He said and indicated a well-built teenager. “I don’t have a liaison officer but he’ll show you around, give you a tour and get you something to eat if you want. When you’re finished, he’ll bring you around here again. I’d like to discuss a few things with you, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m not really an ambassador anymore.” Jessie said. “I don’t represent Lakota, I’m out here on my own.”

“I see.” The First Sergeant said. “No matter. I’d still like to have a word if you have time.”

“We can talk now.” Jessie said. “Natty can take the tour.”

“It can wait. Please, go with Jeremy. Let him show you around. It bears on what I’d like to discuss.”

Jessie did and the kid gave them the grand tour. It didn’t take long to see the three massive stone buildings the Navy had built when the island had been used as a munition’s depot. Two of them