"Okay, we all know what happened while many of us were gone this week. The question is what, if anything, will we do in response."
Shane sat to my left. I nodded to him. "You go first, and then we'll move around the table until everyone has a chance to speak."
"Before I give an opinion, I'd like to hear Doc's take on what's going to happen with Joe and Ronnie and how that might impact the whole group that left."
Doc smirked lightly. "You people are always asking for data that there's no information on. Nothing has changed on that front. I can only tell you that I truly believe Joe and Ronnie are infected, and they will turn at some point. Since we'd never dealt with a long drawn out transformation in the past, I can't predict when they will become a danger to the people around them. It could be next week or another month or more; but at some point, they will turn and attack whoever is near them."
Shane had his elbows on the table and his face cupped between his palms. It was obvious he was struggling for a decision. "I say let it go. They stole more food than they deserved, but they took less of other things we would have given them." He sat silent, waiting.
Ed spoke softly. "I don't like to let anyone steal anything from me. They took two machine guns and one of the RPG launchers. Plus an unknown amount of ammunition and rockets are missing. That said, I feel Vera, Mable and Willie, and probably Sam and Zeb, just made a bad choice. If we can get by without the food, I say forget it. I think with some effort I can replace the weapons from armories and military bases."
John said, "I agree with them."
Morgan simply nodded and looked to Andrea.
"I agree, especially since four of the twenty were forced to go and two more are children. They'd likely be killed if we go in bent on revenge."
The discussion had gone around the table and was back to Doc. He nodded. "We can only pray they watch Joe and Ronnie closely and deal with them before they turn and infect the others. If several of the humans become infected and turn quickly, there's no hope for the others in close quarters."
I stood to say, "Thank you. Once again, I'm proud to be part of this group. I agree with our decision. We'll take the high road."
I sat again. "Now for our immediate direction. We need crews harvesting the last of the crops from the garden and the orchards and continuing with the canning. After that things will hopefully settle down going into fall and winter. Vivian and Grace have done a great job of shuffling people to fill all the projects we're working. Continue to let them know your manpower needs on a weekly basis. I'll help make the final decisions if there aren't enough bodies to go around. We still need at least one procurement crew to gather miscellaneous items for our move. The last time I checked, we were short seven kits to run the wood stove's exhaust stacks through the walls or ceilings. If you need materials or supplies for your work let, Vivian know, and she'll add it to the list."
Several people stood to leave before I said, "I'm concerned about our planned move to the Ozarks. We need to have the barn raisings and livestock pens completed before we can transport the livestock. That means pouring foundations, gathering building materials, and erecting the barns. That should be started soon and continued during the fall and winter instead of waiting till spring." Several members threw curious glances at me as they digested my statement. "We'll talk about this at length soon."
We settled into individual routines and things ran smoothly and without incident for eight days. The first week in October, we were hit in the gut with a new dilemma that again changed our direction.
That evening after supper and half an hour before darkness would cloak us in its ebony blanket, a pickup sat at the gate honking for it to open. The tower guards announced its approach half a minute earlier, and I and a handful of others were headed that way.
The truck's occupants exited the cab as the gate moved. The first person I recognized was Suzie Robard. From thirty feet, she looked sad but moved with purpose. Next I saw Glen Whycoff slide out from the driver's seat followed by his sons, Adam, and Allan, stepping out the back door. Eleven-year-old Molly Bales was the last one out, and she sniffled as she clung to Suzie.
The people who'd been forced to leave Deliverance were back, and I was pleased with that. But what on earth had happened, and why was Molly with them?
Glen spoke, "Doc Sparrow was right. Ronnie and Joe crossed over and attacked people before lunch this morning. They'd been confined in Tim's back room. I don't know how they got out or what happened. Tim and Nate made the four of us stay in one of the little houses. We don't know how many were infected before we escaped."
Glen stopped for a breath. Allen said, "Uncle Tim took our guns away before we left here and wouldn't give them back. The four of us were in the barn mucking out stalls when we saw Uncle Tim and Aunt Georgia chasing Willie and Mable. They caught them in seconds; it was terrible to watch, and I'll always remember their screams before they turned."
Suzie squatted beside Molly. "We ran to the nearest truck. When we left, I saw Molly hiding in the weeds along the lane, or they would have attacked her too. My mom and both her parents didn't make it either. I saw Mom chase a
