"We're just civilians," Bill said at last. "Survivors making our way."

"Are you a militia of some kind?"

"No. No. Just trying to survive, really."

"Religious affiliations?"

"You mean a cult? No. No. We have some Christians, Catholics, a Jewess, a few Hindus, an agnostic or two...maybe even an atheist. And some guy who believes in aliens," Bill answered honestly.

The black man looked thoughtful. "And you did all this yourself? No preplanning?

Just spur of the moment?"

"Out of necessity, sir. Really. I mean, you gotta survive somehow when the dead come back." Bill shrugged a little.

"Did you hear the order go out in the first days to report to Madison?"

"Honestly, no. I was just trying to live," Bill answered.

The soldier nodded again, looking thoughtful. "Well, martial law was enacted and all civilians were ordered to report to rescue centers.

Madison was the one the people in your 'fort' should have reported to."

Bill just stared at the soldier, not understanding.

"It is our responsibility to ensure the safety of the civilian population and keep our nation alive in any way possible," the soldier continued. His expression was grim now.

"Yeah, so?"

The soldier sighed. "My superiors plan to take over the fort. They want to know if there will be an armed response."

Bill blinked slowly, then lowered his head. He thought long and hard, swallowed a few times, then looked up. "It's our home."

The soldier nodded sadly. "Yes, I know. What are the chances of an armed response?"

Bill sighed. "I don't know."

The soldier looked surprised, then nodded. "All right. Thank you."

2. The Pendulum Sword Katarina studied the fancy bottle that read "hair gloss" and with a shrug, began to pour the clear liquid onto her palm. She had taken it from Blanche's bathroom and figured it had to be good stuff. h.e.l.l, most of the writing on the bottle was in French so it had to be good.

The thought of Blanche made her frown. Nothing had been as satisfying as leaving that b.i.t.c.h stranded in her big sw.a.n.ky mansion with one bullet and a can of chili. Curtis and Katarina had considered taking bets if Blanche would actually use the bullet on herself, but then they both started laughing when they both realized she wouldn't be smart enough to do that. It was a cruel thing to do, but after Blanche had done so much harm, she didn't feel any guilt.

Katarina spread the clear glob over her hair, rubbing it in per the instructions. She was dressed in jeans and a pretty green sweater. Bill had asked her to join him for a drink when he got back and she wanted to look her best. Nervously, she ran her fingers through her red hair, trying to tame the frizziness that made it look like a lion mane.

She was disappointed she and Curtis hadn't run into Ray. They had spotted a car crumpled against some trees at the base of the hill where Blanche's mansion sat and suspected he had rolled it on purpose. Steam was still billowing out from under the hood. Most likely he had taken off in Stephen's car. They had found a stash of empty boxes inside the house.

After what had happened to Juan, she had an itchy finger. She had originally lobbied to put Blanche down like a rabid dog, but Travis' idea to dump her at home with just one bullet had been all too delightful.

Her hair wasn't looking much better yet.

Just as she had gotten back from dumping Blanche, Bill caught her by surprise with his talk of a drink. He was such a nice man she hadn't expected him to really pay much attention to her beyond her job at the fort. She wasn't used to nice men even noticing her that much.

Frowning into the mirror, she again put more glop on her hair. It was still frizzy.

All her life she had been teased because of her unruly red hair. All sorts of names had been tagged onto her throughout her life. All of them were annoying. "Bozo" was probably the worst.

She had been a walking bulls-eye in school. Her mother was almost fifty and her father well into his sixties when she was born. He had died before her tenth birthday. Katarina had tried to believe they had her out of love, but years of hard housework made her wonder if they had been lucky enough to give birth to a live in maid that would help them through their twilight years. All her older siblings, nearly 20 years her senior, ignored her parents and her. With good reason, she thought. Her mother had been a nagging shrew, but Katarina had stayed with her faithfully until the end...

She sighed.

..until the end of the world.

She still couldn't believe Bill wanted to have a drink with her. It just wasn't that he had asked her, it was how he had asked her.

Men didn't usually hit on her. At least good men.

Of course, in her entire life she had been with only two men and both of them had done a good job of ripping out her heart. It wasn't until she finally got a job outside of her mother's stuffy home that she had even mingled with men. In high school, she hadn't had one single date.

Her mother had sculpted her life to be her helper and Katarina had dutifully fallen into that role. When it became apparent to her mother that her retirement check wasn't stretching far enough, Katarina had been ordered to work.

Katarina, the ever faithful and long suffering daughter, finally had an excuse to escape the house and work at the local diner. It was then she learned how cruddy men could be. And worse yet, she had learned how to avoid dangerous situations. Sometimes out-of-towners were the worst.

Some of the truckers seemed to think she was easy pickings because she wasn't "that purty" and had to be hard up. More than one had told her that, "You're d.a.m.n lucky to have any man wanting to stick it to ya."

She had smiled and bore it all. That was what she always did when things were tough. She took care of business. In Nerit, she had found someone just like her. Yes, Nerit was different, darker, and more confident, but Katarina knew Nerit understood her immense sacrifices and her inner strength.

Katarina always did the dirty jobs. The hard jobs. And without complaint.

The day the first zombie rushed into the diner and latched onto a customer, it was Katarina who had picked up the cleaver and brought it down on its head. And when the customer rose up and lunged for her despite the huge gash in his throat, she had once more brought the cleaver down. Looking outside, she saw what was happening and ran out to her little car, blood splattered, and with the cleaver in one hand.

When she reached the quaint house she shared with her Mom, she found her mother lying on the sidewalk, struggling to get up as two neighbor kids tore at her. Katarina had coldly slammed the cleaver down on their little heads, and then looked down at her dying mother.

"Sorry, Mom," she had said, and delivered her mother from the world.

Then, somehow, fate had led her to the fort.

With a sigh, she officially gave up on her hair and braided it back from her face. Resigned, she went down to the lobby to wait for Bill.

She was just about to enter the dining room when Ken was carried in, bruised and battered, Lenore trailing behind the stretcher. Linda and Dale followed carrying what looked like monitoring equipment from the hospital. They all looked frazzled.

"Where's Bill?" Katarina asked as they pa.s.sed her.

"Don't know. We never saw the other team after we left the hospital with a horde of zombies on our trail," Linda answered. Seeing Katarina's expression, she quickly added, "But I'm sure they are okay. Bill and Jenni alone are enough to hold off a horde of those things."

"Yeah, yeah. They're tough. I'm sure they're fine."

Katarina forced a smile and moved on. She headed down the hallway that would lead out to the old newspaper building and the fort's garage.

The Reverend was busy posting the bulletin for the next church service outside the doorway to the convention room where the church was located. He immediately noticed her tense expression.

"Are the teams back?"

"Only one. And Ken was hurt. I'm heading out to see what's up."

"I'll go check on Ken and the others," the Reverend decided, tucking the rest of the announcements in his pocket.

Katarina could feel her heart beating harshly in her chest and she took very deep breaths to calm herself. It was too soon to think the worst quite yet. Things did go wrong on runs and sometimes teams were delayed.

She had been on plenty of outings where her team had to take another route home or had to fight its way to safety. Jenni, Bill, Felix and Roger were tough. She had to remember that and have faith in them.

Nerit, Travis and Ed were standing near the moving truck when she walked into the gated entry. They both looked toward her, their expressions grim.

"Where are the others?" Katarina asked as she joined them. "Have we heard?"

"We don't know. We can't raise them on the CB," Nerit answered.

"The other team reported that a horde of zombies was in the hospital behind secured doors. They broke out and attacked the teams." Travis took a deep breath, obviously trying to steady his nerves. "Lenore said it got bad really fast."

Katarina hesitated, then said, "I'll take a crew to go get them. They may be delayed out on the road and need backup."

"The airwaves are full of static. A norther is blowing in. We'll wait until morning." Travis' tone was forlorn and full of regret. "We can't chance a bad storm and losing more people."

Katarina swallowed hard. "What if they need help? Need back up?"

Travis folded his arms over his chest, lowering his head slightly. He was obviously torn over the matter and finally shook his head. "We can't risk it."

"Everyone heading out knew there was a chance they weren't coming back," Ed added grimly. "That's why I didn't volunteer. I got my boys to think about. I didn't feel like a suicide run. The teams knew that they may not come back. No use risking other people to get them back when the conditions ain't good."

"That's pretty cold of you, Ed," Katarina snapped.

The old man shrugged. "So what if it is?"

"Chances are, they are fine," Nerit said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Katarina knew Nerit was only trying to calm her down and give her hope.

But Katarina didn't feel calm or hopeful. "I'll go alone. I know the roads around here well. I can handle it."

"No," Travis answered simply. "We can't risk it. Weather is kicking up fierce. Lightning is flashing on the horizon. We still got those zombies on the outskirts wandering around. If something went wrong-"

"Something has already gone wrong," Katarina reminded him. "And those are our people out there!"

"You can go out in the morning with me to look for them," Nerit said in a tone that was all ice. Her fake smile was nowhere to be seen.

With a slight bob of her head, Katarina stepped back, turned, and headed back to the hotel. She struggled to breathe and regain her composure.

Of course it had been too good to be true...

Straightening her shoulders, she walked back into the hotel. She'd head out with the crew in the morning. She wanted to know what had happened. But then again, she suspected she already knew the fate of Bill and the others. Her Mom was right. Happiness was not her lot in life. She had been born for hard work and sacrifice.

Bill would not be coming back to her. Their date would never happen.

Good things never happened to those who did what had to be done.

3. Revelation First Lieutenant, Kevin Reynolds, gazed solemnly at the Major General, Senator Paige Brightman and Chief of Police, Bruce Kiel.

"They're just civilians," he repeated.

The Senator looked unimpressed, her pinched face looking even more pinched. For the hundredth time Kevin wondered how she got her pale blond hair so poofy. "I can't believe they're not some lunatic cult or a militia. They're too well organized for ordinary people. Seriously, are ordinary hicks capable of this?"

"Ordinary people are capable of great things," Bruce said softly. "And if this is my daughter in this picture, I know she wouldn't be with a cult or a militia."

"Maybe she doesn't have a choice. Did you think of that, Chief?" The Senator raised an eyebrow and crossed her legs. "We've dealt with wellorganized crazies before. Anyone remember Waco or Eldorado? Those cultists had nice little compounds a lot like this one. How do we know that most of the people in this fort aren't being held hostage waiting for us to rescue them?"

"Bill is very adamant that they are just ordinary people trying to survive,"

Kevin answered.

"What if he is one of the cult leaders?" The Senator tapped her nail on the photo. "They are well-armed."

"Well, the dead are trying to eat the living," Bruce pointed out.

"If you are planning to take control of the fort, I suggest that we do our best to avoid any sort of armed confrontation. We are in Texas. We are dealing with Texans. They aren't going to take kindly to someone from the outside trying to take over." Kevin sat back in his chair, looking grim.

"I'm a Senator of this great state, Kevin. I know my people. And I know that the rural areas are full of crazies." The Senator flashed her winning smile. "If we have to go in and disarm them, we'll do it."

The Major General's craggy face wore his usual disgruntled expression.

He had been retired, working his way into the political arena, before all h.e.l.l had broken loose. The President had a.s.signed him to coordinate the rescue centers in this part of Texas. The only thing he had managed to coordinate was his escape from Austin with the Senator. "The First Lieutenant is right. The situation needs to be dealt with in a calm and logical manner. I think we should let the two captives into the civilian population. Let them see what we're about. Let them see we are organized and prepared to take on the added responsibilities of leading the fort. After they have seen our operation here, I'll question this Bill personally tomorrow."

"We should just contact the enclave and speak with them," Bruce Kiel said in a low voice. "Why all the cloak and dagger bulls.h.i.t? Why snag their people? Just contact them!"

The Senator looked at him reproachfully. "You seem to forget the kind of people we have already encountered since this incident began. Consider the hoodlum that gave us the information on the fort and his merry band of methheads. He said they shot his people, blew up one of their trucks, and shot two innocent people when he tried to seek refuge with them.

Now, I'm not saying that the fort people didn't show a bit of cla.s.s not letting him into their facility, but they showed aggression that we cannot consider lightly."

"The Senator is correct," the Major General agreed. "They are well-armed and ruthless."

"According to a criminal," Kevin pointed out. "A man who we found with two women held captive in his truck."

"We need an accurate picture of what is going on before we make our move," the Major General said finally. "Take care of it, First Lieutenant.

Then report back to me."

"May I have the discretion to do as I please?"

The Major General nodded. "Just get me the truth."