Cultivator in a Zombie Apocalypse 37 Chapter Thirty Seven - They Did Not All Die

Within the relative safety of the thick hedgerows, steel bars and mutant plants, with food and water in abundance and life continuing albeit at a stranger pace, it had been as if the men of the former squad and their newfound companions had lived in an oasis in the middle of the desert for sometime. Yes, there were still dangers from time to time and they had to watch their supplies carefully, but they were alive and content.

However, now their most dangerous adversary had arrived upon their proverbial doorstep; other humans. Not all of humanity could be tarred with the same brush, but it was surely a fact that when it came to their own survival, humans were selfish creatures. The men within the contained environment were no different to those they believed they might face without; they sought to protect their current way of life from those who would see it with envious eyes. How dare they be able to access food, water and have shelter from the nightmares unleashed at the end of the world?!

The gun shots warned them that they would face people, but they did not know what sort or whether they would be able to deal with them yet, however, with the numbers of ability users on their side, especially with two being above the rest in strength, they fancied their chances. Well, one. Dexter had to roll his eyes as he noticed that Ren Zexian had not followed them. A big black hound growled softly at his heels instead. Good dog, he thought to himself as he and his men quietly climbed the inside wall and crouched behind it in wait.

The rumble of engines muffled their footsteps anyway as vehicles pulled up outside the length of wall stretched across the road. They heard the click of a door opening. "What the f....!"

"You think that there are survivors here?"

"A wall like that doesn't pop up out of nowhere, so it's likely."

"These look like garage doors..."

Dexter felt that these were not organised men, not army troops. Army troops would have quietly analysed the situation within the safety of their vehicles and assumed that any living behind the wall were potentially hostile. After all, those defending their turf would kill others to protect it. But these men had no qualms, were way too nonchalant about the whole thing. Did they not fear that there could be a fight, that they could die by human hands? Or were they overly confident in their own abilities? Dexter rubbed his temples within his hand. Dammit, he wasn't a tactician either, why did he have to worry about this shit?

"What should we do, sarge? We came all this way after all? Should we forget about it and head on to the army base after all?"

Sarge? Patrick leaned closer to Dexter and whispered close to his ear; "Does that person not sound familiar or is it just me?"

Dexter shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips, wanting to know what these people intended. Were they peaceful? If they were heading to the army base, were they looking for a place of safety? Could they trust them?

"Hmmm..."

"Baby," a slightly, fawning female voice called out, causing Tyler's eyes to light up. A woman! They hadn't seen a woman in months! Dexter rolled his eyes heavenward. So what? From her tone and context, this one was already spoken for. "I thought we would be able to eat fresh lamb tonight..."

"Go rest," a gruff voice replied, but there was a note of softness to it. "I'll approach first, you stay safe in the van." Heavy footsteps approached the wall before pausing at the metal doors barring entry. Knuckles tapped at them. "I'm assuming you can hear me," the man yelled out. "We come in peace, looking to trade. Are you willing?"

All eyes of the hiding men turned to glance at Dexter, who sighed heavily. He thought for a moment, then recalled a little something that Ren Zexian had tried to teach him. He waved at Patrick for a little space before seeking that part of himself that held his powers and tapping it with his consciousness. He breathed out, imagining the sparking ball of electricity expanding within him, occupying more space until it surrounded him like a hollow bubble. He then carefully stood, taking this shield of electrical energy with him, protecting him from whatever might come his way.

"What is it that you want?" He asked with a distrusting drawl, as he glanced over the scene outside the wall.

There was a van and an RV upon the road before them. One man leaned out of the van's passenger side and rear doors were open. The head of another leaned out of one of the RV's side windows, where no one should be while the vehicle was in motion. Clearly, road safety had long gone out of the window, but then who was around to arrest them? And then there was the man who had approached the wall. He was in his middle years, late forties or early fifties. His face had weathered well, despite his years, but any attractiveness was marred by the large scar from nose to the left side of his jaw. He had lit up a cigarette as he waited for a response to his query and was shaking the match to extinguish it.

He glanced up at Dexter upon the wall as he drew in a breath of nicotine, then frowned. "Yo, Dexter... that you?"

"Fuck me, Jonah Shaw," Dexter began to laugh as recognition hit him. "You old bastard, you're still alive?! We assumed you went down with the rest of the poor bastards at the refuge." The eyes of the men widened and almost as one, they got to their feet to peer over the wall.

"When we saw the X on the doors... Ah fuck," the man rubbed at his neck and shook his head, but Dexter understood. They had all been reluctant to dwell upon the fact their old comrades, friends, family members within the old refuge had become the same walking dead that they had tried to hide from. "Glad to see you guys made it," the man added earnestly and the squad smiled brightly, while sighing inwardly with relief. Not only was this man one of the survivors that they had formed the first refuge with, he was a trustworthy man, upright and honest. He had no time for liars nor thieves, but then, he had been a police officer back before the end.

"Who else is with you? Come on in," Dexter invited, glancing at Harry, who nodded and leapt down towards the locked doors.

"Jimmy, Monika, Arthur, Shaun, Cole and Eraj," Jonah mentioned, "as well as a few others we've picked up over the months."

"Shaun...?" Paul's eyes widened and glanced about frantically. He leaned forward, gripping the wall until his knuckles were white. It couldn't really be...

The white van easily made entered the walled area, the RV followed and the squad jumped down from the wall's heights to greet the men and woman they thought had possible died with the rest of the refugees. In fact there were now six men, three women and a teenaged boy in this wandering group and all were quickly introduced, but Paul had eyes only for one person. That person was calmly sitting in his wheelchair with a broad grin, but eyes as watery as the other man's.

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"Miss me?"

"You arsehole," Paul said, shaking his head as he grabbed the offered hand of the person he'd always considered his closest friend. "I mourned you for nothing!"

Chapter end