"No way. You're not old enough, you're only fifteen."
"Dad," she replied, "I'm almost sixteen. Girls mature faster than boys and I'm far ahead of Mitch in that area. I shoot as well as you or Mom and better than ninety percent of all the people here. I'm at the top of my martial arts classes even against the boys, and I'm in better physical condition that half the people who will volunteer. I've been shooting zombies since I was eleven. You don't need to go out shorthanded just because Mom is breastfeeding. I'm ready to do my part. I can and will do it."
I looked back to Kira. A serious tone emerged when she said, "She's right. I approve of her wanting to take part. She can handle the stress physically and emotionally. But the final decision is yours, and we'll abide by it."
"Alright," I said grudgingly. "I'll think on it and decide by tomorrow evening." I handed Dominique to Paige, kissed her forehead, and left to take a shower.
Women! They always managed to hit me with something totally off the wall and unexpected. I never had kids before, but now that I do, I'm partial to keeping them safe.
I looked in the mirror above the washbowl and guilt showed in my reflection. The other survivors at Deliverance didn't want their families taken from them either, but they stood up for our freedom and endured the loss of loved ones without whining and complaining. I knew then that Paige was going with me on the hunt for four sadistic killers.
Our five truck convoy arrived in Pierre, South Dakota, at noon Thursday. Instead of driving straight through toward Fort Pierre, we canvassed the small town that had been home to thirteen thousand people. On the north edge of town, we passed a small auto repair facility that was a branch of the Billion Automotive new car dealership in Sioux Falls. We'd almost gone by when Shane's truck in front of us signaled for a right turn and went around the block and into the car lot. Behind the building sat the four year old, dark blue Dodge pickup we were looking for. Bullet holes in the sheet metal made the ID positive.
I deflated a little. We'd hoped to catch the murderer still driving it, but he had apparently decided to trade it in after they killed our people. Double doors at the front of the showroom stood open. Inside the building, two new four year old Chrysler sedans sat on the floor. An empty space was next to them where another vehicle had recently been driven away through the double glass doors. It had to have happened in the past week because nothing in the showroom was covered with more than a light layer of dust. Three more new cars sat on the lot, but no new pickups were there.
Shane walked to us from the bullet-riddled blue pickup with a smile on his face. "Four year old vehicle registration and insurance papers in the glove box show the truck was owned by Marc Ridder. We at least have a name to look for now." We were near the west edge of Hughes County, at the eastern edge of Stanley.
"Good, let's split up and start at the south end of Stanley County and work our way north. There are few roads so we'll use the bikes to lead. They're not near as threatening as five trucks full of people. Put Martin Jr. on one, Mitch on the second, and I'll take the third one. Make sure Junior and Mitch have radios with ear pieces, and I'll need one too. I'll leave my radio with the crew in my truck." I found John, Ira, Mitch and Paige waiting at our truck. "Mitch and I are going out on the bikes. You three listen to the radio and try to keep us in range. John, you'll be driving, so I need you and the other drivers to meet with Junior, Mitch and me."
Before the apocalypse materialized on our shores, Shane had spent more than a week downloading every type of information I could imagine from Web sites. He had two 100 gig hard drive computers loaded with info. When we committed to finding the killers from Stanley County, he located and printed detailed maps of Stanley and the surrounding counties. He laid the Stanley map on the hood of his truck and assigned each of the cyclists a route. Trucks would stay out of sight while they followed each rider. Increasing background noise indicated the bikes had been unloaded, started, and sat idling as they waited for us riders to suit up. We left to get our gear. As I walked, I saw trucks pulled alongside the fuel trailer being serviced.
I sat on the bike with my gear on, ready to flip the visor down. Paige tapped my shoulder and leaned around my right side. "Be careful, ole man. Don't try to outdo the young guys." I grinned as she gave me a loving peck on the cheek and then another. "The second kiss is from Mom and Junior and Dominique."
Thirty minutes later I cautiously crisscrossed Fort Pierre while Junior and Mitch covered outlying roads that ran like spider webs from the center of the town that had once been home to two thousand people. Surprisingly, we saw few zombies. In fact, as I recalled our trip from Deliverance, we'd seen very few of the menaces, old or new.
Ed called a meeting with Shane and me. It would be dusk in less than two hours, so we agreed to find a suitable place in town to hole up for the night. The only gas station in Fort Pierre had a restaurant and convenience store attached. We ended up staying there. Everything of value had been cleaned out or trashed,
