I stepped forward and the chatter dissipated. "Before we start, let's take a moment in memory of two great friends who passed away recently. The first was our doctor, Ira Sparrow. And more recently, we suffered the loss of another great friend of the group, Shane Holescheck. Both men were a positive influence on the group and assisted their neighbors in any way they could help. Each of them will be sorely missed for different reasons." I waited an appropriate amount of time with my head bowed before continuing. "We're entering the beginning of our sixth year at our new home site. Once again, it's planting season, and hopefully we'll raise another bumper crop as we saw last year at harvest time. Thank you for all your hard work.
"The Leadership Committee met several weeks ago and gave its approval for the production and distribution of wine in limited quantities. The making of alcoholic beer and whiskey is still prohibited along with smoking materials..."
"That's pure bullshit!" Jesse Pitchford jumped up and pointed straight at me. "I'm tired of you running this group like a dictator."
"Jesse, I don't run the group, the committee does. What specifically is your complaint?"
"If I want to smoke or drink alcohol, that's my business not yours. You're still up my butt because I won't do the group exercises."
I looked across the whole group. Several adults had gained weight over the years and were looking portly. "Doc pushed the exercise routines and good eating habits to help people stay healthy. We remind folks of the exercise programs that are held three days a week, but for several years no one has been mandated to attend."
Kelly tugged at Jesse's belt and he sat, but he continued to glare at me hatefully.
"Now, can we move on, or does anyone have more issues to address?" I was ready to speak when John Alton rose and stood beside me.
"Tom, there is another thing a majority of us take issue with." I waited and glanced at the committee members on either side of me. Several looked anxious. Doc's last conversation played in my mind. "Several of you, both men and women have continued to carry sidearms. Since the zombies have been eradicated, we feel that is unnecessary and want the practice changed. We don't want to live in an armed camp as if danger is expected every minute of the day. It's time for everyone to relax."
The breath I'd been holding slipped out; at least their feelings were finally in the open. "While you're getting things off your chest, are there any other issues you want to bring up?" I knew the answer and was ready to deal with it. To hell with political correctness.
John stood taller and looked pointedly at me. "The heavy weaponry: assault rifles, machine guns, RPGs, hand grenades and so on. We want those and the ammunition for them destroyed."
I'd been warned but still couldn't believe the naivety of what he'd said. Surely the shock I felt at it being exposed to everyone was reflected in my expression. Before I could reply, several of my supporters rose.
Richard spoke next to me above the hubbub. "What the hell is wrong with you people? Have you lost your mind? I don't know that the danger of outlaws has passed and neither can you."
I whistled shrilly to cut through the multiple loud voices. "Stop it, all of you quiet down. Try to stay calm and speak one at a time. Richard, do you have more to add?"
He glanced at the faces surrounding John and Marcie before he focused on his brother, Barlow. "This is so off the wall ridiculous. Are you people so arrogant as to believe we are the only zombie survivors left in the world? How can you think we're all that is left, or if others survived, they will all want to be our friends. Haven't our past encounters with renegades taught you anything?" Richard shook his head before he stepped back and sat.
I heard another movement behind me. Andrea stood beside me and spoke in a subdued tone but loud enough for all to hear. "Tom, thank you for your leadership over the past years, but..." She paused for a deep breath. "I'm tired of the fighting and killing, sick of it. I didn't attend church during or after college, so it's not like I've been a religious zealot my whole life. That's not who I was or am now. But I believe there has to be a higher authority, and I can't continue to place my safety and salvation in weapons that kill. I have to trust that a kind and benevolent God will provide for us and look after us. I believe what John says makes sense." I watched several people nod in agreement and silently mouth the word Amen.
From the crowd, Kira respond forcefully, "Your God didn't prevent the zombies from destroying the world He supposedly created, and He didn't protect us from them. We protected ourselves and used firearms to do that. As much as I like you, Andrea, in my opinion, your position doesn't make any sense."
Shandrea Jones stood before Kira finished talking. "Please, let's all stay on friendly terms. I agree that in the past the use of firearms was necessary. But that time has passed, and we're no longer in danger. I'm not comfortable living with people packing guns around as if we're in constant danger, and I don't want my children raised in an environment akin to a war zone."
Kira quickly countered her, "Since we've moved here, we've not seen any zombies, humans or tornados. But that doesn't mean there aren't still pockets of zombies or evil humans or that a tornado won't hit us before the day
