The Midnight Riders

Chapter Eight – The Story of the End of the World

It was a story that had been told many times before; a story of one man's rise above adversity and despite overwhelming circumstances became one of the most powerful people in the land. It was a story that was shared between many people. From east to west and north to south everyone had heard this story. However it was also a story that was the subject of diverse forms of retelling. In some narratives the man was a family man, driven mad by the loss of his loved ones and filling the void with his empire. In others he was a tyrant who had always wanted power from the day he was born. Some stories portrayed him as the reluctant hero, stepping up to help those in time of need. Only one thing remained constant from telling to telling; the man the story was about was named Thomas Galt.

Thomas Galt was a very clever man. In order to understand men such as he; it is important to know what made them the way that they are. Growing up Thomas Galt had little time for relationships with his peers who only wanted to things like go to parties and drink alcohol. He was the boy who no one ever saw because he was working too hard either in the classrooms at school, the libraries on his free time or in his bedroom at home so he could try to avoid the frequent beatings from his drunken father. After putting himself through business school he had acquired all of the skills he needed to become a manager. He did not care who he managed or what company he worked for; he just needed to get away from his home. As soon as he left he became a very happy young man and quickly rose to a high position in the business world. He accomplished this in a remarkably short space of time, becoming known for his cutthroat attitude, no-nonsense approach to work and exceptional handling of people who were both above and below him.

Of course all this time devoted to work made his personal life nonexistent. He had never had a girlfriend nor had he ever been intimate with a woman ever in his whole life. This did not bother him as his whole life was devoted to his work. This is why he took it so hard when the world was destroyed due to the infectious outbreak. As he saw his business crumble before his very eyes; Galt contemplated taking his own life. However if there was one thing that Thomas Galt was good at it was overcoming exceptional circumstances to get what he wanted. Treating the outbreak as if it were nothing more than his drunken father Galt began to form his empire; building it up from the ruins of civilization.

Using his charm and charisma, Galt managed to get several people to side with him and form one of the first Clans. He was able to cut people who were not pulling their weight off from his group with an almost indifferent coldness due to his ruthless nature. Over time more and more people joined him; some were impressed by him while others were frightened and wanted to get on his good side. In nine months Thomas Galt's baby, his new empire, was known across the entire United States of America. Every soul knew of Thomas Galt and of what he had accomplished from the stories that spread across the land faster than the infection had a year previous. Basing his headquarters in his hometown of Boise, Idaho, Thomas Galt frequently looked out at his kingdom from the top of the Capitol building. He was known to do this for hours as he stared out and reflected on his life. He wished his father could see him now; to see what he had accomplished. Thomas Galt was a force to be reckoned with; he was smart, ruthless and completely unpredictable. This was the force that the Midnight Riders were now up against.

Each one of the Midnight Riders were dragged from the vehicles they had been forced into. They all had hoods over their heads and their wrists tied together with rope. One of Galt's men, a man named Frazer, was watching the six of them get dragged toward the doorway of the underground parking area. There were a few other cars parked around but it appeared that the place was used for storage as in one corner were several items of furniture. In another corner a small break room had been set up for Galt's men to relax at. Frazer was stood with his arms folded as he scanned his eyes over the Midnight Riders. He then clicked his fingers at Coach and signalled with his thumb that he was to be separated from the rest of the group. As Coach was taken away in a different direction Frazer noticed something that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. With Coach's absence there were five of them left. From what he had heard about Galt's previous dealings with the Midnight Riders and weighing in that Teek was a recent addition; he believed that there should have been eight of them in total meaning that two of the Midnight Riders were missing. Frazer swallowed hard at the thought of two of the Midnight Riders being missing in action so he summoned the attention of one of the armed men, making him come toward him.

'Ralph,' Frazer spoke softly, deliberately. 'I want you to go back to where we picked them up. I believe that one or two of them may be missing.'

'You don't think that was the type of thing that should have been checked while we were there?' Ralph responded. Frazer's menacing glare was enough to send Ralph on his way. He got into a range rover and drove out of the garage with Frazer watching him as he left. As the vehicle drove out of sight, Frazer went back to watch the prisoners being taken away to their holding rooms. With the exception of Coach each of them were thrown into a small dark room the size of a broom cupboard. The room was totally bare and there was no source of light. As each of them were thrown inside with their wrists still tied and their hoods still over their heads, the door was slammed shut behind each of them isolating them from any source of light or sound. They were all completely segregated from anything.

Coach was subjected to comparably much better treatment. He had the bag pulled from his head as soon as he left the garage and as his eyes adjusted to the light he began to make out where he was. He was being pulled through a large elaborate city hall. Chambers, offices and meeting rooms were located in every direction but the only place Coach could look was up. There were several floors up above, each with a large opening in the centre to allow people to look up and down the building. At the very top was an elaborate looking dome with immaculate decoration and patters painted on it. Coach was pulled up some stairs and led through some corridors toward a large set of oak double doors. Frazer opened them and grabbed a hold of Coach, allowing the other escorts to leave. Throwing Coach to a chair, Frazer closed the doors leaving only him, Coach and one other person in the room. It appeared to be a lavish study with bookshelves lining the walls and a large mahogany desk to work on. There was a lounge in front of the desk with comfortable leather sofas and a coffee table. There was a large leather office chair behind the main desk which suddenly spun around. The person sitting in it stood up and leant forward on the desk. He was wearing a white suit and an eerie smile.

'So nice to see you again, Coach,' said Thomas Galt. He looked up at Frazer. 'You may leave us.' Frazer nodded and silently opened and closed the door, leaving Galt and Coach alone. Galt moved around the desk as he spoke to his prisoner. 'It is nice to see you again, truly. We've not had a chance to speak since the incident.'

'The incident?' Coach repeated. 'You mean the whole thing where you shot me and one of my friends? I know; we haven't really kept in touch much since then. It's a shame but hey; I guess attempted murder tends to do that to people.'

'Well what can I say?' Galt shrugged casually. 'I could apologise but I know you wouldn't accept it plus I wouldn't really mean it so there'd be no point in that.'

'Perhaps you could start with why you've kidnapped me and my crew?' Galt's eyebrows twitched as Coach finished speaking.

'Crew?' he repeated, leaning back against the desk. 'A moment ago they were your friends but now they're your crew. How interesting. You're the Thomas Galt of the Midnight Riders.'

'I'm Coach of the Midnight Riders. I'm nothing like you.'

'Oh I think that you are,' Galt opposed. 'I think we are more alike than you'd care to admit. There is very little that separates you and I.'

'Hardly!' Coach argued. 'For one thing I don't send my people out to kidnap folk!'

'I can see you're still a little testy about that,' Galt folded his arms. 'Well I suggest you get over it.'

'I don't think that's going to happen.'

'If you don't get over it I will kill one of your... "crew".' Coach's eyes widened. 'I think I'll start with the young ginger boy. I'll dangle him above the zombies that spit acid and make you watch as he melts away.'

'Okay, fine!' Coach cried. 'What do you want?'

'Excellent,' Galt clapped his hands together. 'I knew you'd play ball.'

'Like I have a choice,' Coach muttered.

'Oh come now,' Galt stood up and began to walk around the room. 'We always have a choice no matter what. People only get themselves into inescapable situations because they are either too weak or too unimaginative to get themselves out of it. For example; your "crew" could chose to break out of their confinement but they won't because they are too weak to do so; each and every one of them.' As Thomas Galt was speaking, Rochelle managed to remove the bag from her head. Silence was still all she could see but that did not matter as she got what she needed. She rolled the bag up and began rubbing it vigorously against the ropes that held her wrists together. Rochelle smiled as she felt the fibres begin to wear away.

'I myself faced quite a tough choice recently,' Galt continued. 'Although I won't bore you with the details let's just say that while you've been so self-absorbed with your crew the world around you has been changing dramatically.'

'Is that right?' Coach did not really care about the rest of the world so his tone was completely dull. 'Let me guess; you've found some way to profit from it?'

'I have indeed,' Galt nodded as he continued to pace around the room. 'I have identified what I need to make my little Clan span across the entire north of America.'

'And what would that be?' Galt stopped in his tracks and pointed to Coach.

'You.'

'Me?'

'You and your Midnight Riders,' he nodded.

'Right...' Coach's interested was suddenly spiked only because he was worried about where this was going. 'Not to be criticizing or anything but our work is usually done best when we're not pulled from our home and dragged across the country blindfolded.'

'Man up,' Galt told him. 'You're attitude is becoming irritating.'

'Look just tell me what you want.'

'Very well,' Galt stopped in front of his desk and leant back on it once more. 'Oliver Rooney's compound has been destroyed. His people have been scattered; hell no one even knows if he is still alive or not. There is a massive opening in that area for someone to move in and take control.'

'I hardly see how that affects me,' Coach responded to the news indifferently.

'Well I wanted to move into Rooney's old compound but it looks like somebody has beaten me to it.' Galt paused, waiting for Coach to ask him who that somebody was. He did not. 'That somebody is an old friend of yours, Coach. Benedict Bevan.'

'BB?' Coach sat forward suddenly. 'You're serious?'

'Oh I am indeed,' Galt nodded.

'Shit,' Coach sat back. 'I haven't seen BB in ages...'

Benedict Bevan was the man who supplied Coach with the Midnight Riders tour bus shortly after he had returned with the others to America. He was a friendly and honest man, the type of guy rarely found in the current climate. Bevan was confined to a wheelchair after losing his legs in Iraq some years earlier so others around him did all of the work while he dictated. He was a natural leader but he was also a fair one. He was a good, honest man and Coach liked him very much. He felt like he owed him a debt for giving him the tour bus as it was the one thing that unified the group, keeping them together.

'Yes well your friend has been making quite a name for himself,' Galt continued, jarring Coach from his reminiscent thoughts. 'He's become quite the businessman, as everyone else has these days. He's amassed a loyal group of followers who would do anything for him. They are each very proficient and have managed to hold off our... negotiation attempts without a single casualty. They appear to have inherited Rooney's arms as well as his base.'

'That's fascinating,' Coach remarked flippantly, 'but I really don't see where me and my... team come into it.'

'Well you get on well with him, don't you?' Coach suddenly sensed where the conversation was going.

'I wouldn't say that,' he lied hastily. 'I doubt he even remembers me.'

'Oh he remembers you,' Galt told him. 'You tend to leave a lasting impression.'

'As do you,' Coach replied.

'Yes but your impression doesn't make him want to shoot you on sight. I want you to go in there and convince him to hand his little Clan over to me.' Coach let out a laugh.

'You must be joking!'

'Do I look like I'm laughing?'

'If an old friend of yours suddenly walked into your life unannounced and told you to give all of this up what would you do?'

'I don't have any old friends.'

'Now why does that not surprise me?' There was a moment of silence. 'Look there's no way I can convince a guy that I owe a favour to, to give up everything he's worked so hard to achieve.'

'I suggest you find a way to encourage this on him otherwise you may find yourself lacking a few teammates.'

'That's it?' Coach asked. 'That's why you assaulted me and my people? So you could threaten me into doing this for you?'

'If you were successful I'd consider the slate with you clean,' Galt cited. 'I'd no longer feel I'd need to retaliate for what you did to Henry James.' There was another pause, this time it was Galt allowing Coach to weigh up his options. 'You'll be sent with my man, Frazer,' he spoke assuming Coach would agree to do what he asked. 'We'll keep an eye on the rest of your people while you're gone and Frazer will keep an eye on you to make sure you don't do anything... ill-advised.'

'I'll need to take a few more people that he will recognise otherwise he'll no something us up.'

'You can take the idiotic mechanic then,' Galt waved his hand. 'But no one else. You'll leave very shortly. Frazer!' The doors opened and Frazer stepped inside. 'Coach has agreed to work with us.' Frazer smiled. 'Untie him.' Frazer did as he was told and Coach massaged his wrists as the ropes fell from them. Galt called another one of his men from the hallway and told him to take Coach to the garage and to get Ellis to meet him there. When Galt and Frazer were left alone, Galt folded his arms. 'Is the device ready?'

'Oh yes,' Frazer nodded. 'We've got five small ones and one large one; each detonated by remote The small ones are about the size of a cell phone and could take out a room this size whereas the large one could take out this entire floor.'

'Perfect,' Galt smiled. 'When you arrive in New Bern; make sure that there are no survivors.' Frazer turned on his heel and left the study. Thomas Galt moved around his desk and took a seat in his chair, letting out a sigh as he put his feet up. A smile formed on his face as he relaxed, thinking of how his empire would expand even further after his bidding had been done.

...

Parked beside the Midnight Riders tour bus was Miguel's jeep and Madison's Mercedes. Everyone was inside the bus, discussing Thomas Galt. Nick had informed everyone of Galt's reputation and of the urgency of the situation as Malcolm outfitted him with one of the headset radios that everyone else was equipped with. Miguel had asked Kathryn back on the Jaeger to redirect satellites over the Capitol building in Boise so that they could see what they were up against. The images were sent through to his computer rather promptly, surprising Madison slightly as she believed Kathryn to be an incompetent fool. Miguel began to analyse the layout of the building before putting his finger on the screen and sliding it to the side, flicking the thermal imaging display on. Miguel shook his head as he saw the heat signatures of roughly one hundred people, sighing dejectedly as he put the device on the table to the back of the bus.

'Okay,' he attempted to sound optimistic but instead he sounded as if he were overcompensating for a near impossible task. 'It looks like we won't be able to storm in there and bust them out.'

'Well I could have told you that,' said Nick. 'You don't become the most powerful Clan leader in the country without having at least one or fifty goons to take all of the bullets for you.'

'They're probably being held in the basement,' Madison stepped close to Miguel, putting her hand on his shoulder so she could lean over and tap the screen of his small personal computer. Miguel looked away from the screen for a moment and allowed his eyes to glance up and down Madison's figure. Her touch was soothing and her scent was sweet despite the amount of sweating she had been doing over the course of the mission. He completely zoned out; everything else melted away leaving nothing left but Madison. 'If we could somehow sneak into the building maybe we could break them out before they know we were there?'

'That's not gonna happen,' Cassandra advised. 'I spent a lot of time with a guy who could be called a competitor to Thomas Galt; a rival you could say.'

'Mom, get to the point,' Zoey urged. Cassandra rolled her eyes and sat forward.

'The point is; that building is locked up tighter than a nun's vagina.'

'Mother!' Zoey exclaimed in absolute horror. Cassandra ignored her daughter's mortification and continued.

'The only way you could get in is if they let you in.'

'Sounds easy enough,' Francis shrugged.

'Yes but it isn't that simple,' Nick declared wearily.

'I wouldn't imagine that this guy would let us roam through his HQ without a leash,' Malcolm agreed.

'He wouldn't,' Cassandra confirmed.

'Well what the hell can we do then?' Bill's tone was mildly frustrated. 'We can't sneak in and we can't slip in under false pretences so what do we do? Is your map giving you any ideas, Miguel?' Miguel did not answer as his mind was elsewhere. Bill looked over at him and saw him looking at Madison and rolled his eyes, muttering something disparaging under his breath. 'Miguel!'

'Yes!' Miguel snapped his head away from Madison and back to the rest of the group. Feeling thankful that Madison had not noticed him checking her out he tried to think of something to say.

'If you take your eyes off her boobs and put them on the ball then you might be able to think more clearly,' Bill advised. As Miguel went red he glared unfavourably at Bill who returned the look with one of equal judgment with a hint of sarcasm.

'Why don't we try and create a distraction?' Louis suggested. 'Like when we're being overrun with zombies we use a pipe bomb to draw them away.'

'What're you suggesting; we bomb the Capitol building?' said Zoey light-heartedly.

'That actually sounds like a good idea,' Cassandra was nodding slowly with her finger in the air. Madison looked at her worriedly.

'Do you have explosives lying around?' She glanced around the bus nervously.

'Of course they don't!' Zoey cried.

'Not unless you count the hundreds of gallons of gasoline we've got stored down below,' Nick muttered.

'I've got the perfect idea!' Cassandra announced. 'I used to run with Oliver Rooney before you had your way with him.' Her finger wiggled between Madison and Malcolm who gave each other incisive looks. 'I think Thomas Galt would be interested in talking to me now that the Roon is no more. You did kill my husband, right?' The straightforwardness of the question along with the sudden divulgence of the information made Miguel, Madison, Malcolm and Nick sway backward slightly.

'Long story,' Zoey said to the sudden questioning expressions.

'Well it doesn't matter if you did or not; the point is that he is out of the picture. I was quite valuable to the Roon meaning I'd be quite valuable to Galt.'

'I don't know,' Zoey was sceptical. 'In what way were you valuable?'

'Well I was essentially his second in command before I got stuck in New York.'

'You managed to get out of New York alive?' Nick leant forward, face wide with awe.

'Yes, honey,' Cassandra patted him on the cheek. 'These guys picked me up.'

'Wow,' Nick sat back. 'You're good.'

'Which is precisely why I think this plan will work,' Cassandra clapped her hands together before placing them on the table. 'If I turn up on the doorstep I'll be guaranteed an audience with Galt. I am certain that he knows of my talents and would want me as part of his team.'

'I don't see how this could help us,' Miguel confessed.

'I thought you were smart, Miggy. If I managed to get inside I'd be at the belly of the beast when things start going really wild.'

'What do you mean?' Bill asked.

'Well when I'm schmoozing the old boy; some of you could start attacking the base.'

'Are you mad?' Zoey cried.

'I told you; we'd never be able to overcome his defences,' Nick repeated.

'Well we wouldn't need to overcome his defences,' Cassandra told him. 'You'd just need to make enough of a fuss to warrant immediate action. I could go in there with a couple of you acting as my "servants" or something.' Bill, Louis and Francis exchanged bemused looks with each other. 'As I'm pleading my case with Galt the place gets attacked and I offer the use of my servants to him. He will agree believing that it'll be a chance to test me and then hey presto! I've given you complete access to his base allowing you to go to the basement and break your friends out.' There was a moment of quiet as everyone reflected on what Cassandra had suggested.

'You know that doesn't sound half bad,' Madison admitted.

'Really?' Miguel looked to her, surprised. 'Seriously?'

'What's wrong Miggy?' Cassandra asked.

'Well firstly, you can stop calling me that,' Miguel told her. 'And secondly; what happens to the distraction team? They'll get slaughtered.'

'Are you sure about that?' Cassandra sat back. 'I mean you're not trying to break in; you're just causing a fuss so you can remain covered at all times. Besides you've got that satellite that can sense how hot people are. Surely you can use that to cover you?'

'That sounds not half bad,' Louis praised her.

'We've got to make sure that Kathryn doesn't screw up,' Madison sighed.

'What about getting them out of there?' Miguel asked. 'Even in the chaos of a gunfight; we won't be able to sneak them out without being spotted.'

'We could use that nifty jeep of yours,' Cassandra shrugged. 'It could fit all six of them inside. It would be a bit of a squeeze but it's possible. I could roll up with two guys at my side, maybe Francis and Louis. The rest of you could spread out attack from multiple positions. That'd give us all enough time to get your buddies out, into the jeep and then drive away. It'd be over before Galt knew what hit him.'

'It sounds dangerous,' Zoey said softly. Cassandra took her hand and squeezed it gently.

'We can do it, sweetie,' she told her.

'It sounds like we have to do it unless anyone can think of any other plan?' Miguel asked to a room of silence. 'Okay,' he nodded. 'I guess that'll be that. We'll split into three teams; A, B and C. I will lead team A and it will consist of myself...'

'Obviously,' Bill remarked flippantly under his breath. Miguel ignored his comment and continued with assigning who would be to his team.

'Followed by Cassandra and Francis. Team B will be led by Madison and will consist of Bill and Zoey using the Mercedes. Team C will have Louis and Nick in the bus, led by Malcolm.'

'How come you're changing my line-up?' Cassandra asked Miguel defensively.

'One of my crew needs to be with you at all times,' Miguel explained to her. 'So listen; are we ready to go?'

'The sooner the better,' Nick recommended. 'Who knows what Thomas Galt's doing to them...'

As soon as Nick finished speaking, Thomas Galt stepped into the long corridor that held the isolation rooms. After walking down a set of stone steps his feet squelched on the damp ground. On each side of the corridor were a row of metallic doors, seven on each side. He ambled through the corridor slowly with his hands behind his back. He had a slight spring in his step as he glanced from one door at one side of the room to the parallel door on the other side. Two armed men were positioned at the foot of the stairs with four armed men in the corridor itself; two on each side. He was followed by an escort of two more armed men who shadowed him silently. Galt scanned the name tags written on each door; each was written on a whiteboard and marker pen. He stopped moving as he saw "F-Nigger" written on one of the boards.

'Okay, who wrote that?' Galt asked with a tone similar to that of a parent disappointed with something their child had done. He stepped over to it and pointed at the writing while glancing at each of his men. 'I think we're mature enough to put the racist language behind us, don't you think? In future boys; let's watch the swearing.' There was a moment of quiet before Galt looked back and wiped the message off with a faint smile. 'That'd being said I do like a bit of dark chocolate from time to time.' He glanced to his two escorts. 'Have her prepared and sent to my room.' Walking past them, Galt began moving up the stairs while his men began to unlock Rochelle's door.

As soon as the lock opened the door burst open and Rochelle leapt from her prison, knocking two of the guards aside. Galt stopped on the steps and glanced around at the scene as the six other guards sprung into action. Rochelle was instantly surrounded so she jumped in the air while spinning, flicking her leg out to kick her attackers away. With a single moment to her advantage, Rochelle leapt forward and punched one of the guards in the face with her bare fist. Someone else grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up off her feet. She lifted her legs high in the air and wrapped then around another guard's neck and snapped it. As he fell dead, she kicked the corpse down the hall, it knocking into two approaching men. She then jilted her head back, smacking into the man who was holding her and breaking his nose. He let go of her and she spun on her heel and punched him in the face, knocking him out. Someone grabbed her from behind once again and covered her mouth with his hand, holding her close to his body in an effective restraint. A few other people surrounded her and began punching her in the stomach repeatedly. Rochelle slipped off her feet, being held up by her captor while she was assaulted continually by the guards.

'That's enough!' Galt ordered, his voice echoing across the corridor. The beating suddenly stopped and Rochelle fell limp, coughing up a mouthful of blood that splattered over all of those around her. 'You've ruined her now!' Galt cried with great disappointment. He turned and waved his hand at them. 'Just put her away and get yourselves cleaned up.' As he walked up the stairs, Rochelle was tossed back into her cell with the door slamming shut behind her. As the guards went away to have their injuries looked at, Rochelle crawled over to the wall of her prison, pulling herself up and sitting down with her back resting on the wall. To Thomas Galt and his men her escape attempt was thwarted. The forming smile on Rochelle's bruised face signified that she thought that her plan was successful.

...

The initial month after the first recorded infection was devastating to the United States and the surrounding countries. As all forms of law and order had been destroyed, the emergency services were wiped out and civilisation has crumbled. Climbing out of the ruins of society were some people who were determined to rebuild. While some people were like Thomas Galt; building up an empire for personal gain some were like Benedict Bevan and attempted to help as many people as they could. These people tended to not last very long in the new world but Benedict had something so incredibly likeable about him. He was kind, gentle and sensitive. Some people pitied him for his disability; the first thing that they saw when they saw him was the fact that he had no legs. People who tried to think that he was weak were quickly mistaken when they experienced his charm and charisma. He was a genuine person, one who Coach had a great deal of respect for.

It was four weeks after the first infection when Coach and the others first met Benedict. The group only consisted of Coach, Nick, Ellis, Rochelle and Norah back then making it harder to fight off the infected. They were struggling to survive and desperate for supplies. The hope of rescue had faded away from the minds of those still living despite the short time that had gone by. The only thing that occupied the minds of those who were still alive were the thoughts of reconstruction. Benedict had already started to rebuild by saving a small community from the grasp of the infected. After shooting out all of the infected, Benedict and his Clan moved into the small community that consisted only of a few houses and shops and made it their own.

Coach led his group of weary survivors into Benedict's community as they were running through torrential rain. With the roads flooded deep with water, each footstep and every extra raindrop sent high splashes of water everywhere. The splashes were so frequent and numerous that there appeared to be a substantial haze above the surface of the water. As the survivors pushed their way through the soaked, noisy haze, they were shooting at the infected that were also trying to keep up in the storm. The Hunters could not pounce as the water was too high. The Smokers could not drag their victims through the water as it was too difficult. The Boomers were nowhere to be seen as the force of the rainfall caused them to explode. Running into the small community the survivors could not see any signs of life not that they were looking for any. Shooting through any interference; the survivors saw a large building that they identified as their target. They each ran for the shelter as fast as they could, each step bringing them closer to sanctuary. The doors before them were a set of double doors with a bar for a handle. They looked like the fire exit to the building that led to a car park that still had a few abandoned vehicles there. The rainwater was so high it reached the top of the wheels. Coach was the first to reach the door, pushing through it and running into the shelter of a large, empty warehouse while being closely followed by the others. When the door slammed shut behind them, they all looked up to see a group of people suddenly cock their weapons and aim them at them. Nick, Rochelle, and Ellis were fast enough to lift their weapons up in response before someone shouted at them to not move.

The situation looked tense. In front of Coach were two groups of people. There were four men to the left, each were remarkably indistinguishable. To the right were another four people. One was a tall, slightly chubby young woman. Another was an older gentleman with slicked back grey hair. One was a young teenage boy who was stood behind a man in a wheelchair; Benedict Bevan. Benedict was slim, had long dark curly hair and a straight, almost gaunt face. He had no legs so he wore loose shorts over his waist. It appeared that Coach and the others had just barged in on a tense standoff. One of the men from the group to the left stepped forward. He was clearly the leader and he glanced between Benedict's group and Coach's.

'These your reinforcement, Bevan?' he let out a single laugh. 'They look a little wet behind the ears.'

'Oh look!' Rochelle announced loudly. 'He's punning at people he doesn't know!'

'You better turn your asses around and go back the way you came.'

'I wonder how confident you'd be if I corpsed you up...' Rochelle wondered aloud.

'Rochelle!' Coach scolded. He did not want what was already a tense situation to get even worse. He lifted his hands to his sides but stood his ground. 'We didn't want to cause any trouble; we were just looking for shelter from the storm.'

'The water's risin' pretty fast and there are Swimmers out there,' Ellis added.

'They're right, Jackson,' Benedict said to the angry man. 'Why don't we just take a step back and cool off?'

'Why don't you just move out of here?' Jackson suggested. 'I can see what you're doing here; you're trying to gang up on me.'

'Well we do outnumber you,' Rochelle pointed out. Coach shot her a crazed look.

'We're not choosing sides,' he assured the two parties.

'Oh really?' Jackson looked to him defensively. 'Alright then: if you're going to remain on the fence then maybe you could offer an impartial opinion? Say you had to leave your home and your town when the zombies started to attack and then you try to come back after some time has passed to rebuild your life only to find these squatters have moved in and taken everything from you. What would you do?'

'I said we could sort something out!' Benedict insisted.

'Shut the hell up!' Jackson aimed the gun that was held in his trembling hand at him. 'I wanted the black guy's opinion.' Jackson looked back to Coach and awaited his response.

'Well...' Coach muttered nervously. 'I guess that if I was in the... squatters' position then I'd be less inclined to give you what you wanted when you threaten me with a gun.'

'Bullshit,' Jackson spat. Coach took one defiant step forward.

'You know me and my guys along with these guys over here,' he gestured to Benedict and his people, 'we do outnumber you. Well spotted, Ro.'

'Thanks, Coach.'

'So why don't you take some of your own advice?' Coach suggested. 'How about you turn your asses around and go back the way you came?' Jackson looked at Coach venomously but knew that this was a fight that he could not win. He looked to his men and shared a look with them before pushing past the survivors to get to the door. Jackson turned around as the doors opened, glaring menacingly at everyone.

'I'll see you all again... maybe,' he told them before walking away outside in the rain. As the doors shut, Coach closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

'Thank you,' Benedict pushed his chair over to them. 'I dare say you folks have just saved my bacon.'

'We're rad like that,' Nick commented.

'Those guys troubled you before?' Norah asked.

'Not at all,' said the chubby woman who went to Benedict's side. 'They're bad apples who want to be put in our basket. They're no good.'

'Gee; everyone's using metaphors today,' Rochelle remarked under her breath.

'I'm Benedict Bevan,' Benedict held out his hand to shake Coach's. He went on to introduce the woman as Pam, the older gentleman as Waylon and the teenager as Drake. As Coach was halfway through introducing his group of people there was a gunshot from outside as Jackson began shooting at one of the parked cars. The vehicle's alarm began to sound, cutting through the roar of the weather. Everyone looked at each other worriedly.

'Shit,' Nick yelled.

'It's okay,' Norah said optimistically. 'There are nine of us. We can fight them off.'

'Yeah but all of our weapons are empty,' Pam informed her.

'What?' Coach looked baffled. 'How were you in a standoff with empty guns?'

'Let's just say it's a damn good thing you showed up,' Drake commented. The distant roar of the infected resonated through the walls. Coach cocked his gun and looked to the door.

'Okay guys;' he said. 'Let's keep these people safe!'

Still soaked to their skin with rainwater, the five survivors split up. Ellis and Norah went to Benedict and his people to share some weapons and ammunition with them while Nick and Coach ran to the doors and opened them. Rochelle quickly checked out the perimeter to see if there was any other location where the infected could come at them from. She quickly determined that the infected could only get inside from the open door that Coach and Nick were guarding.

'I see them,' Nick warned.

'Close the door!' Drake cried.

'Them zombies will cut through that door in a few seconds,' Ellis told him. 'With it open we can shoot them as they come and then seal the place off when they're all dead.' Nick and Coach began shooting at the approaching infected. Due to the severity of the flooding, they were wading slower than they could usually move making it easy for the survivors to pick them off from a distance with their weapons. As the infected were easily picked off by Coach and Nick who were then joined by Rochelle and Ellis, a sudden appearance of ripples in the deep floodwater caused Rochelle to step back.

'We got a Swimmer!' she announced. Nick looked back to her.

'Where?' he asked. Shooting from under the surface of the water, a small tentacle that was thinner than a Smoker's tongue wrapped around Nick, pulling him beneath the surface of the water. Through the murky environment, Nick saw the Swimmer. The shape of the head was pointed, almost triangular toward the mouth. The skin around the mouth was gone leaving its teeth as sharp as a Witch's claws clearly visible. The gum line had deteriorated making them appear longer. They were white, bright and stood out in the darkness. The rest of the infected's body was elongated. Bony contusions that looked like ribs ran around its body. The arms had claws at the end and the feet had extra skin grown between the toes; allowing the Swimmer to tear through the water almost effortlessly. The infected then launched itself up into the air, taking Nick along with it. As they fell back down, Nick was injured as his body crashed against the surface of the water. The Swimmer continued to go this, hurting Nick in the process until Ellis shot it dead in the air. The feeler slipped off Nick and he fell to the water for the final time, floating face down on the surface.

Other ripples were rapidly approaching their location so Coach and Rochelle began shooting at them while Ellis jumped back into the floodwater to pull Nick to safety. Laying him down back in the warehouse, Ellis went back to shoot the infected away as Nick began to cough up a mouthful of bloody water. The bodies of the Swimmers floated to the surface and just when Coach thought that they had shot all of them the final one leapt from the water straight for him. It pushed through the survivors and splattered into the warehouse. The infected let out a shrill screech and arched its back upward.

'Get down!' Rochelle shouted. The bony ribs that surrounded the beast suddenly shot out from it, sending a gory mess splattering all over. Waylon was hit with one of them and fell down to the ground instantly. The rest of the survivors managed to avoid it.

While the alarming car was carried off by the rainwater, Ellis shut the door after being satisfied that the danger had passed. Coach and Norah ran to Waylon who was lying on the ground with his eyes wide open. The bony tissue that had come from the Swimmer was stuck to his shoulder. It was pulsating.

'Is he dead?' Pam asked, her voice shaking.

'He will be if we don't act fast,' Norah sighed, kneeling down next to him. She took out a syringe from her bag and removed the plastic tip. Pushing the plunger slightly to let the air out of the needle, she placed it on Waylon's chest.

'What is that thing?' Drake asked, cautiously approaching him.

'It's a parasite,' Coach explained. 'It is draining Waylon's blood while pumping him full of bad shit. In short; kill him within five minutes unless we do something.' Ellis joined Norah, kneeling on the other side of Waylon. She handed him her bag and he took out another syringe and prepared it. Norah was using clothing scissors to cut the fabric around the parasite.

'What's in the shots?' Benedict asked.

'Cyanide,' Ellis said with a matter-of-fact tone. 'We're gonna kill the bug with it.'

'What?' Pam protested. 'Won't that also kill Waylon? Can't you just pull it off?'

'If we pulled it off he'd die of blood loss,' Coach told her. 'We won't poison him.'

'That's what this is for,' Norah gestured to her syringe. 'It has a mix of nitrates and hydroxocobalamin.'

'I don't know what that is and can't even speak it so that's why she has it,' Ellis remarked.

'It should stop the cyanide from killing Waylon,' Norah finished exposing the skin around the parasite. Ells leant over to inject it but Pam grabbed his arm, looking to Benedict.

'You can't be okay with this!' she cried. Benedict looked at Waylon and then to Ellis and Norah. He swallowed hard.

'He's dead if we don't do anything,' he sighed, nodding at Ellis to continue.

'You ready?' Ellis asked Norah. She nodded once and he stuck the needle into the parasite and pumped it full of poison. Everyone leant in close to get a closer look. The pale colour suddenly darkened and a squeaking sound was then heard. Norah then jabbed her syringe into Waylon's chest just before he started heaving for breath. He convulsed momentarily with Ellis protecting the back of his head with his hands. Waylon then started to calm down and the parasite soon slipped off his body leaving a large section of skinless shoulder. Norah began disinfecting and bandaging the wound.

'He'll be okay,' she reported, her voice sounding tired and strained.

'Good job,' Coach patted her on the back and looked over to Benedict.

'Looks like you came at just the right time for us,' Benedict smiled. 'You're our guardian angels.'

'Always happy to help a friend in need,' Coach replied.

'Indeed,' Benedict nodded. 'As are we. Are you part of any Clan?'

'Benny!' Pam objected with a hiss. She stepped close to him, awkwardly smiling at Coach before whispering in Benedict's ear. 'We just met these people.'

'Yes and they've proven how good they are,' Benedict replied. 'I think it'd be good if we got some guys like these involved with us.'

'That's exactly what got us in the situation with Jackson,' Pam cried. 'Your God-damn trusting nature.'

'We're not looking to cause any fuss,' Coach assured them, holding up his hands. 'We were just looking for a place to wait out the storm.'

'Well you can stay with us as long as you'd like,' Benedict told him. 'As you said; it's always good to help a friend out a friend in need.'

Coach smiled at Benedict, already sensing the friendship that the two would develop over the next few days. Coach thought about this friendship as he stepped out of the police car that Frazer was driving in front of Benedict's new compound. He felt terribly saddened about the fact he needed to deceive him in order to save his people. He felt sick and angry with himself at the thought of his impending betrayal. Ellis, who was at his side, felt similar after Coach had told him what needed to be done. Purging the reminiscent thoughts from his mind, Coach stepped over to the main gates of Benedict's compound to talk to the guard on duty.

'What do you want?' the man asked as Coach, Ellis and Frazer stepped up to the gate. Ellis looked around the front of what used to be the mansion of Oliver Rooney and his nostrils flared as he saw the numerous corpses that lay there.

'Tell Benedict that Coach is here.'

'I don't tell anyone anything unless I get a reason for why you're here,' was Coach's response. Coach sighed and casually leant back.

'Do I need a reason to stop by and visit an old friend?'

'Coach?' Behind the guard a middle-aged gentleman had stopped walking as he just saw who was there. Waylon stepped over to the gate with a smile on his face. 'Is that big Coach of the Midnight Riders?'

'Good to see your memory is better than your eyesight,' Coach remarked, shaking Waylon's hand through the gap in the fence. 'How's things going?'

'It's good to see you again,' Waylon told him. 'How are the old gang?'

'Same old,' Coach shrugged. 'They're off with the bus trying to make a deal with Jackson and I thought I'd come by and say hello after hearing of your good fortune.'

'You want in, don't you?' Waylon grinned at him before suddenly realising that the guard was still there. 'Why don't you open the gate for our friends?' he asked him.

As Coach, Ellis, Frazer and Waylon made their way across the courtyard, Waylon was explaining Benedict's acquisition of the area.

'It's like he won the lottery: seriously we just came across this place and it was deserted. We killed all of the zombies and made it our own. We've moved everyone from all over the country to this one spot because he wanted to make sure that they were safe. He didn't want to build and empire like Thomas Galt. He just wants to live comfortably.' Frazer snorted as he heard Waylon speak. Waylon turned to face him. 'I'm sorry I didn't quite get your name...'

'This is Frazer,' Coach spoke hastily. 'He's the newest member of our little family.'

'The black sheep,' Ellis added.

'Well good for you, Frazer,' Waylon smiled. 'Coach is a good man.'

'I don't know if that's so true...' Coach muttered.

'Oh don't be so humble,' Waylon laughed. 'You've done a lot of good in your time and you're going to do a lot more.'

Coach fell uneasily silent as he was led through the mansion into Benedict's room. Up a set of stairs, Benedict's office was located at the mouth of the grand staircase. Inside, Benedict sat with Pam around his desk, both deeply engrossed in discussion. Benedict looked up as Coach entered the room and his face lit up.

'Coach!' he cried. 'My God it's been years!'

'I've not even known you a year,' Coach pointed out.

'Oh you know what I mean!' Benedict wheeled around the table as Pam stood up. 'Come here and shake my hand!' Coach firmly grasped the palm of his friend, smiling at him. His smile seemed oddly false to Benedict. Holding onto his hand for slightly longer than usual, Benedict attempted to see through Coach's expression but found the handshake broken promptly. Looking at Coach suspiciously, Benedict went over to Ellis. 'My boy it's been too long!' Ellis went up to Benedict and embraced him in the chair, squeezing him tight. Benedict laughed and hugged him back, patting Ellis' shoulder. His gaze then shifted to Frazer.

'I'm new,' Frazer said before introducing himself.

'Nice to meet you,' Benedict shook his hand after Ellis stepped away.

'I'm breaking him in,' Coach lied. 'I wanted him to meet the man who got me on my feet.'

'Oh stop flattering him, Coach,' Pam told him. 'He's got enough people kissing his ass already.'

'It's quite enjoyable, actually,' Benedict joked. 'So it's good to see you.'

'It's been too long,' Coach told him. 'I heard of your newfound fortune and I'm ashamed to say I just had to see it for myself to believe it.'

'I still can't believe it to be honest,' Benedict sighed. 'I mean I literally just stumbled on this place and there's more out the back. There's a couple of buildings out back that we're still clearing. I've got some work for you if you're interested in joining me?'

'We've been down this road before, Benny,' Coach told him light-heartedly. 'I like living on the road.'

'I knew I'd be dreaming if I thought we'd team up,' Benedict sighed. 'We could do good work, you and I.'

'Well not everything I do is good,' Coach said genuinely. 'Everything I touch seems to turn to shit.'

'Yes I had heard about your encounter with Henry James,' Benedict sat back. 'I bet Galt was pissed off. I sent a few messengers looking for you to warn you but they each came back with nothing.'

'I appreciate your concern,' Coach told him, a heavy feeling sinking in his chest.

'Well you've done a lot for me,' Benedict smiled. 'I gotta help a friend in need. So whatever happens you've always got a place here, you know that.'

'That sounds like a good offer,' Coach told him. 'To be honest every day the thought of not being a leader sounds better and better.' Pam observed the look that Coach and Benedict were sharing and stepped into action.

'Ellis, Frazer, let me show you around,' she offered. After ushering the two out, with Frazer expressing severe displeasure at the thought, Coach and Benedict were left alone.

'Take a seat,' Benedict offered Coach a side area with some fancy looking sofas. Coach sat down as Benedict wheeled himself over next to him.

'This is a real nice place,' Coach told him.

'It's okay,' Benedict nodded. 'It's a bitch getting up the stairs though.' Coach smiled and laughed before there was a moment of silence. 'Is everything okay, Coach?'

'What do you mean?' Coach asked. 'Everything's fine.'

'Are you sure?' Benedict asked. 'I'm a fairly good judge of character as you know and I can sense when people have something on their minds.'

'Nothing's on my mind...' Coach told him before biting his lower lip as he saw Benedict's expression telling him that he wasn't buying it. 'I lost someone recently; Danielle.'

'Danielle?' Benedict repeated with shock. 'Oh Coach; I'm so sorry! I only met her that one time but she was a good girl. What happened?'

'Nick accidentally shot her,' Coach ran his hand over his sweaty forehead. 'There's been some tension in the group especially between Norah and Nick. Nick's gone missing now and we don't know where he is.'

'Christ...' Benedict muttered. 'I can help you look for him if you want?'

'No you don't have to do that,' Coach told him.

'I think that I do,' Benedict sat forward. 'You and your Midnight Riders are like family. No, scratch that, you are family. You're close with all of the people you take care of; that's what I admire about you. We had a few losses recently too, but they didn't affect me as yours have affected you.' Benedict licked his dry lips. 'I'd swap places with you, Coach. I really would, you know. I want to have a family like you have. I have employees, not family.'

'You're close with Waylon and Pam,' Coach pointed out.

'Two out of a hundred,' Benedict shrugged. 'I know I'm safer with more people around and they're safer with more people around but... I dunno; I envy you, Coach.' There was a moment of silence. 'How's Drake? I miss him, you know.'

'He misses you, too,' Coach said. 'He's getting quite close with Teek.'

'Your messenger?'

'Yeah he's joined us, too.'

'Wow,' Benedict sighed. 'We've got a lot to catch up on. Tell me everything.'

...

Several of the guards who had been injured by Rochelle were sat on the bed in the infirmary, sweating heavily. The nurse had finished cleaning up their injuries and was writing something down when the doors opened and Galt stepped inside. He stood up to greet him, stepping outside to give the wounded some peace.

'We have a problem,' the nurse said. 'Most of the guys who've come to me have been suffering from symptoms of the infection.'

'What kind of infection?' Galt asked. There was a pause while the nurse gave him a worried look. 'What? Wait, you mean the infection?'

'Yes,' the nurse confirmed.

'But we're all immune?'

'Don't ask me to explain it but they appear to be infected...'

'It was that Rochelle,' Galt hypothesised after a moment of thought. 'She's made them all sick.'

'How?' the nurse shrugged. 'She had all of her things taken away from her when she got here, surely?'

'Maybe she snuck something in? She's a crafty one. We've had problems with her before.'

'Well what do we do?'

'Kill everyone who has signs of infection,' Galt said without hesitation. 'That way we can prevent any...'

A Boomer burst through the doors of the infirmary suddenly. Galt looked over at it as it roared, sending bile at him and the nurse. Back inside the infirmary the other guards had been replaced by infected. There was one Smoker, a Hunter and a half mutated Tank that was still transforming. It let out a loud cry of pain as the infected began to spread through the Capitol building.