Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse in Big Turtle Texas by Terri Higdon

Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse in Big Turtle Texas by Terri Higdon

Author:Terri Higdon [Terri Higdon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Terri Higdon
Published: 2024-04-17T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 30

There are small groups of people sitting at various tables. As I approach the nearest table, I notice two women are engaging in conversation.

“Hi, I’m Sarah,” I say, taking a seat without it being offered. The women look up, offering me indifferent smiles. “My name is Louise, and this is Shannon,” one of them introduces. I return their greeting with a nod. Louise and Shannon could be part of the women’s Bible group, wearing the same frumpy dresses and sporting loose buns.

Not knowing where to start, I simply say, “Are you both from Serenity?”

They are from a little community thirty miles from Serenity, called Seymour. They explain they are a small community living simply off the land, selling their homemade goods to the surrounding towns to survive financially. When the outbreak reached their town, it devastated many families, claiming the lives of husbands and sons. The community was decimated leaving behind mostly women and some children struggling to survive.

Upon hearing Pastor McMann on the radio, they made their way to the camp, where they were welcomed into the family. I think it odd using the word “family,” but I don’t call attention to it.

“We are grateful for Pastor.” “Do you mean Patrick?” I ask.

My question is met with a stern glare, as if I’d committed blasphemy.

They nod and say, in unison, “Yes, Pastor.”

They finish eating, stand, pick up their trays, and say their goodbyes. Then they return their trays to the kitchen.

I find the diversity of people at Camp Hope odd. On one hand, there are families striving to maintain a sense of normalcy, sending their children to school, taking on jobs around the camp, all in an attempt to replicate their former way of life. On the other hand, there is the group of armed individuals patrolling with automatic rifles, wearing tactical black cargo pants, tee-shirts, and tactical boots. When will I get my tactical attire?

And finally, there are the individuals I’ve come to think of as the “widows.” They belong to the more secluded area of the camp. Not all of them are housewives from Seymour. Some have originated from Patrick’s church and the neighboring communities.

As I sit there pondering the various groups, Patrick enters the cafeteria. He flashes me a smile which appears mischievous, suggesting he is up to something, yet his charm is impossible to resist. He grabs a tray, goes through the serving line, and makes his way towards me. Unsure of which group he belongs to; I am intrigued and willing to find out.

“So, how was the rest of your practice this morning? Feeling a little more confident, are we?” he asks.

I answer him, “Yes,” though I don’t think it is a question as much as a condescending remark.

“Good. Jacob will give you your assigned shift. Don’t worry, Sarah. I think you will become more confident in your abilities as you gain more experience patrolling the camp,” he says.

“I’m not worried,” I say, trying to sound convincing.

“Sarah, I know you will come to love our little community in time,” says Patrick.



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