At one o'clock that afternoon everyone that volunteered were ordered to go the empty field right next to the town. When Cameron got there he was rather impressed to see that the truck wall had actually come into fruition. In the grassy area between the road and river there was one truck parked. On the road itself was the personnel carrier that could be moved at a moment's notice. And wrapping around the entire field was the rest of the trucks, lined up end to end, disappearing into the wooded area at the bottom of the hill, so that it could go around the town itself.

Cameron barely had time to wonder how they would get those trucks to line up in a place so packed with trees, when two jeeps came down the road to meet them all. The Major hopped out of the first one, and started surveying what he had to work with.

"Good god," he said in response to the people before him. "Well if this isn't the sorriest bunch of ingrates that I've had to displeasure of working with."

Most of the people there looked insulted, some puzzled, but Cameron had to work hard to suppress his laughter. Standing there in uniform, with a wrinkled up face, cropped gray hair, reflective sunglasses, and demeaning comments, Cameron couldn't help but be reminded of R. Lee Ermey.

But he also had a point. Looking around Cameron saw all different kinds of people: males and females, young to old, fat to skinny, and just about every color under the rainbow. But none of them looked like they've had a lot of time handling a weapon—Cameron included. The majority of all these people were likely truckers.

"But you're here and that's what count," he went on. "Each of you will be given a weapon, which will eventually be fired properly by all present. You will sleep with it, eat with it, take a dump with it, and it will even be there during your most private of moments." The Major made a gesture, and the soldiers in the jeeps began digging through crates that contained rifles, and started passing them out.

"Because once you're out there, your weapon will be your best friend! Two days ago our unit was in Green Bay." Cameron saw the soldiers pause, bow their heads, and resumed handing out rifles. "And I'm telling you now that the things out there are no longer human beings—they are an enemy that needs to be destroyed!"

"What?" someone said. "You can't be serious. This is a disease, there has to be a cure!"

"Get the fuck out!" Major Kyle shouted, jamming his finger back towards town.

The person that spoke up did so, and as well as five others.

"As I was saying," he continued. "When we saw what was happening there, we got far away from there as fast as possible—but not before loosing a lot of good men and women. We eventually ended up here and started planning its defenses. Now, who here has actually killed one of those things?"

Cameron and a few others raised their hands.

The Major pointed at Cameron. "How many?"

He was taken by surprise. Cameron thought back to the gas station, and all the other ones he ran over along the way. "Well, uh, maybe around thirty-ish I think."

"Really?" he responded, clearly impressed. The others looked stunned as well, probably in disbelief that a kid like him could do such a thing.

It was Cameron's turn to be handed a rifle, and it was a bit heavier than he expected.

"Listen up," the Major started again. "Not one of you will leave this place until you prove to me that—one, you can shoot—and two, you can shoot an infected." Once everyone got a rifle he pointed to a line of bay hales with big, red targets a ways away. "Line up, let's see what ya'll got."

A lot of the people around were stunned that they were being asked to shoot so soon—Cameron even more so when he ended up first in line. Uncertainly, he raised the rifle, trying to line the sight with the target in front of him. As Cameron tried to hold the rifle steady, the Major started going down the line correcting everyone one by one.

Once more it was surreal for Cameron. Just two days previously he went to school and played some Halo afterwards (on reflection maybe he would've been better off playing Left 4 Dead). Today he was learning how to fire a gun in the middle of nowhere, Wisconsin.

When the Major got around to Cameron, he had to fix his stance, arms, and the way he was holding the rifle. It was even more of a pain the ass trying to hold that position.

Once done, Major Kyle got out of the line of fire and shouted. "Okay! Get ready! Aim! Fire!" Everybody fired at different times. Cameron had to try pulling the trigger three times before finally got it to fire—and missed by a mile. Not only that the noise was deafening.

Still, he didn't do any worse than everybody else. Only two people were actually able to hit the hay bale. Cameron dug his finger into his ear. The Major didn't seem surprised at all.

Fuck, Cameron thought. Even worse a lot of the bullets hit the trucks at the other end of the field, popping a few tires. Well, they weren't in a movie, so no one was expected to automatically pick up a gun and pick off a zombie with a nice, clean headshot.

"Next!"

Whatever Cameron had been expecting when he signed up for shooting practice, it wasn't this. All day he had to stand around, waiting in front of six other people for his turn to shoot off a round. He tried as best he could to replicate the form that Major had put him in, but Cameron just couldn't get it right. Only a few others were able to hit the bulls-eye.

By the time the sun went down Cameron was only able to hit the hay bale twice. And if he was planning on volunteering to go out into zombie country, he had to learn how to shoot a lot better.

"Report back here tomorrow at 0800!"

The order was met with displeased grumbling but no one argued. So, Cameron used the strap to hitch the rifle around his back and left.

As Cameron walked back to the house he decided to check in on his parents. They were doing fine, volunteering to do whatever odd job had to be done. They weren't particularly pleased when Cameron told them what he was up to, but they were in no position to tell him what to do. Next up was Jules…she was still stuck in the house, but was glad that she had someone on the outside to talk to.

And so after dinner, Cameron set his rifle next to his sofa bed, and charged his phone before going to sleep. That put an end to the second day at Yuba.