I agreed with Kira's feelings about Deliverance. Leaving this place of refuge would be difficult. So many memories had begun in that two-story metal building. Thoughts of Emma still occasionally swirled through my mind. Some memories of our time together would likely remain with me forever. I was positive Kira would understand and encourage them. I supposed she also still had residual feelings for her deceased husband. We wouldn't have married our first mates if we didn't love them dearly. Just because they were past history wasn't reason to deny their existence or the love we'd shared so long ago.
In hindsight, I realized it had been a huge mistake from the beginning to expect to live at Deliverance long-term. At the start of the zombie apocalypse, we'd held out hope that many more humans would survive. None of us was willing to accept the near annihilation of the human race by some devilish undead horror. It was too mind-boggling and unfathomable to even contemplate. How were we to accept the unimaginable before it happened?
As time advanced, I realized how dire and precarious our position had become. Gradually, I accepted that our current location depended on having electricity forever. We were totally electrified: geo-thermal heating and cooling, computers and printers, deep well water pumps, kitchen and laundry appliances, air compressors in the shop, welding machines, lighting, and electric gate openers. All those conveniences and many more would soon be lost.
We would eventually go in the opposite direction: hand powered tools, water carried from a river or pond, horses and mules to pull equipment, wood fires for heat and cooking, animal fat for lighting, and wool from sheep to weave cloth. The challenges for people from an advanced society like ours would be daunting. Like Elsie, a few more might eventually opt out when the hardships became reality and proved to be more than they could bear.
One day after planting began, I discovered something useful in boxes of items I'd stored away after Emma's death. Three aerosol cans stood at the end of a box of miscellaneous junk I'd saved. They were safety air horns left from my fledgling construction company days. They would be useful for people working in the fields, especially youngsters in the vegetable garden, to alert everyone to zombie sightings. I grinned as I recalled a day when Emma snuck up close behind me and Shane and shot off a long blast. We'd been engrossed in studying drawings and panicked when she scared the hell out of us. In retaliation, we put her on the floor and tickled her to the point she could barely breathe between fits of giggles. Those were great times worth remembering.
Even with the additional survivors we'd recruited, we encountered labor shortages. Planting crops took priority and was worked anytime the weather permitted. On random rain shower days, we searched for wild game to feed us, butchered domestic cattle, pigs, or chickens, or hunted zombies. Only when rain poured down relentlessly did a few of our people have a full day off to themselves.
Since discovering zombies could eat and digest other mammals as well as humans, we understood why wild game had become alarmingly scarce. In prior years, rabbits, wild pigs, and deer were a primary source of fresh meat. With the luxury of refrigeration, we had taken advantage of plentiful game and froze much of it to use later. Later had come and passed, and we now often found the freezers empty of meat. We were forced to eat more filler foods to stretch the meat supplies. Rice, bean, and potato casserole recipes were being prepared more and more often. Luckily, we had a great chef, and Andrea could season anything to make it flavorful and enjoyable.
During the third week of July, Doc and I were at the barn checking the milk cows. Suddenly a loud irritating noise I knew all too well blasted through the open double doors. Someone working in the garden had activated an air horn; gunshots followed almost immediately. We ran outside with our rifles ready to fire at an encroaching enemy. Instead, we arrived barely in time to catch sight of naked bodies streaking from the edge of the surrounding alfalfa field into the woods. Multiple gunshots chased after them. The four undead monsters held their hands pressed over their ears and sprinted and weaved as if fearing for their lives. I joined the vegetable garden crew after gladly watching two of the zombies stagger and fall. Who would have believed the monster's hearing was so sensitive an air horn would cause them intense pain and make them flee?
The following morning, a crew set out to visit construction supply stores in three towns. They returned with nine cases of air horns. Everyone who ventured outside the protective chain link fence at Deliverance would carry the horns for personal protection. When the crew returned, they confirmed what other trips had indicated: zombie sightings had declined to where seeing them out in the open became rare.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Doc saw me leave the exercise room and motioned for me to stop and wait for him to catch up. I saw in his expression that something troubled him.
"Let's step outside," he said. I stopped by a table, but he pointed and said, "Farther."
We walked across the open area and stood near the chain link fence. Three others sat fifty feet away taking a break. I glanced upward; the sky had clouded over.
"Tom, I believe we're about to confront a serious problem we've never dealt with before. I've been monitoring the Masters since they arrived last April. Every time
