Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty Two - A Plan For The Future (1/2)

Unfurled upon the large oak table, in the kitchen, was a roughly drawn map made from a strip of lining paper that never made its way upon the wall it was intended for.The map's schematics consisted of what could loosely be considered a line drawing of an aerial view of housing.It could not be considered to scale, but it did offer a 'guide' to the outlay of the village.Dexter was hovering over it, pen in hand, trying to figure out if he had missed anything.

Winston glanced over it.”What about that shell of a new build?” He asked pointing to the area where the house had been in the middle of construction.It had walls and a roof, but no internal electrics nor plumbing had been begun.Glass windows had been found in a garage next door, likely meant to be installed next, but it had not happened before doomsday.

”I was thinking of tearing it down and using the concrete blocks and bricks for something else,” Dexter admitted.

”Like?” Winston asked

”A wall.”

As they had emptied the last of the smaller properties of anything that could be deemed useful, they had come across a worrying sight in the distance.The herd of zombie cows had been battling hounds that were also undead.The herd were larger in both numbers and physical size, so although the pack of canines had the advantage of teeth and claws and agility, they were no longer the only predators in the fields.The surviving dogs had fled, those that were trampled beneath the hooves of the bovine zombies became a rotten feast for the victors.Patrick had fled into the nearest house to vomit into the toilet.Dexter couldn't say he felt much better himself.

And warring zombie animals was not the only thing they had to worry about.

The last property to be raided was home to a large family of zombies, six in total, from a short, stout zombie with white strands of remnant hair to a feisty knee biter.Ren Zexian had quickly dealt with the first two, who were swifter than the others, their knees less worn and gait less stiff.His sword had cleanly removed their heads from their bodies.The third had appeared from a different door.Dexter's lightning had stunned the creature before Harry bludgeoned its skull, until it's brains oozed out of its ear.The fourth had been found alone in a locked toilet and flung itself towards them as they smashed open the door.

But as difficult to deal with as they were, a tall Male zombie had stood waiting for them inside the living room.Pieces of metal had been floating midair about it as if hindered by no laws of nature.Without warning, the knives and fire-place tools had sliced through the air towards them.Harry would later admit to almost pissing his pants as the poker that flew his way tried to stab him over and over again.

One by one, the knives had embedded themselves into the wall behind them, Ren Zexian had then melted them into slag.”Fuck, how are we supposed to deal with this?” Harry had yelled out, while a blasts of electricity shot past him from Dexter's hand, only to be thwarted by a tin bucket holding pieces of wood inside it.

”Ah!” Patrick had had a flash of enlightenment and had concentrated hard, imagining that the area's gravity around the metal poker and bucket increased.The two metal objects had fallen a few inches, enough to distract the zombie which was fighting to keep them aloft.Both Ren Zexian and Dexter had then sent bolts of air and electricity through the zombie's brain, finally defeating it.

”Fucking hell!” Dexter had exclaimed, but he relaxed his guard too soon.Ren Zexian had felt the pull inside his stomach just a half-breath before a screeching mess of skin and clumps of fur leapt towards them, claws extended.Paul had shot the feline with one of their precious bullets.It had not survive the impact.

Considering these sorts of things, who knew how long the devil vines and monster Ivy's could keep the wandering undead at bay.They needed something extra and even then, there was no guarantees.And what about the monsters who were not zombies and he wasn't just thinking of mutant beasts.

”It's gonna take all hands on deck for us to build a wall,” Winston rubbed his chin, scratching at the developing black beard upon it.Things like razors were precious, would only last so long and he didn't trust his blade skills to remove the stubble from his flesh, so he figured, why bother to keep a clean shaven look.Beside a three year old, there were no females for him to impress either.