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doing any of the radio stuff.
Mostly I was outside, working, doing whatever they told me to do. But there
were plenty of stories. Apparently… I think they’re true. Anyway, several gangs
drive around looking for survivors. Then they kill them, always killing them.
Some were caught by the police or talked to – I’m not sure – and supposedly
said it was justice because of the way they were treated before the dead came
back.”
    “Were
they convicts?”
    That
idea just popped into my head.
    “Or
maybe mental patients?” added Briana. “Bastards are crazy enough, the things we
saw.”
    “I don’t
know,” admitted Kenneth. “They have a leader. He’s supposed to be their
prophet, but the stuff about him is even more rumor than the rest. I don’t know
his name, but he was the one who ordered that everyone had to die, except those
who’d been like them. Those people get recruited instead.”
    “But you
don’t know what made them feel abused or whatever, or what they use as criteria
on who dies and who joins?”
    My
curiosity was in overdrive.
    “Nothing.”
His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I didn’t really believe too much of it.
Sounded like make believe stories.”
    “Oh,
this is real,” said Briana, “and don’t you dare say otherwise in front of
Steph. Three of them grabbed her a few months back, and… She was okay since
they got killed first, but still and all.”
    “We then
found another settlement in South Dakota, much bigger and better organized than
us. The entire place was destroyed,” I continued. “The dead attackers wore the
same outfits as those who assaulted Steph. A few days later, the band
discovered us. Not a single word from them. They just attacked.”
    “You
lived.”
    “Zombies
showed up,” explained Briana, “a whole lot of them, but out of fifty some odd
people, only the six of us made it. Really just Steph and Johnny. Me and Jacob,
and Lizzy and Mary, were in the woods fighting from there. We weren’t in the
castle at all.”
    “That’s
one of the reasons we have so many guns now,” I said. “They had everything you
could imagine, plenty of food too, and a particularly nasty portable torture
set up.”
    “Seemed
like they loved using it too,” concluded Briana, swearing under her breath. “Any
idea how many gangs there are supposed to be?”
    “I don’t
know. I just heard that there were several who all followed the same guy, just
what I told you.”
    “Bummer.
At least they don’t know what happened to this one or where we are.”
    “We
hope,” corrected Briana.
    “No, we
didn’t see anybody get away, and even if they did, they would have seen the
castle overrun and destroyed. Only people as nutty as us would have tried
staying after that. I think we’re safe enough, probably safer than if we were
running about elsewhere.”
    “Yeah,
probably.”
    We’d
discussed such matters previously, but that had been when we thought there was
only the single group of raiders. We never considered the possibility that
there might be more of them. Even so, I considered my logic sound.
    “It’s
hard to travel with the snow,” offered Kenneth.
    That was
true, and he’d done poorly in this regard. The man would be walking with a cane
for the remainder of his life, and while he could still hold a fork and write,
the loss of several fingers on each hand would make everyday activities
difficult and time consuming.
     
    *
* *
     
    The
final event of interest for the Christmas holiday season came during the night.
It’s not particularly relevant to anything that happened afterward, at least
not that I can see, but it was new and unexpected. Mary and I were on top of the
wall, well after the sun had set, taking a final look outside before turning
in.
    “What’s
that?”
    “What’s
what?” I asked.
    Mary
extended an arm. “Over that way. Looks like a light.”
    I saw
plenty of stars and what might have been Mars or Venus.
    “I’m not
seeing