One of those people better have the cure for cancer, Cameron thought, looking to the north as he watched three buses come closer and closer. Those buses, which were nowhere near as big as the eighteen wheelers the militia used, had to plow their way through a thick horde of zombies, so it was rather slow going for them. Behind the buses were some wisps of black smoke the indicated that the fire was spreading at the hospital.

Below his feet he heard a banging noise, so he opened the hatch. "What's going on?" Cole asked, getting nods from everyone else down there.

"Looks like we have survivors heading our way," he informed them.

"Survivors?" Nick inquired.

"I'll see to it that you guys find out more later," Cameron said. "Oh, and uncuff Andrea just in case." He walked away from the hatch before they could throw any more questions at him.

To Cameron's left and right all of the trucks were lined up bumper to bumper, and on the roof of each were the leaders with their rifles. On top of the truck at the front of the line he could see Harry, who yelled at all of them, "Don't let your guard down!" There was a series of clicking sounds as all the leaders flipped the safety off.

Finally the three buses came to a stop next to the convoy. On the ground beneath all of them was an endless supply of moaning, hungry zombies that continued trying to reach up to grab at those out in the open.

Then all of a sudden the some of the windows were opened and rifles were pointed through them. Shit! Cameron thought horribly, wasting no time in aiming his own rifle. He wasn't the only one, though, as the other truck leaders raised their rifles too. Cameron's hands got sweaty as he aimed down at one of the windows, praying that nobody would fire.

He was so close. The salvaged medical equipment simply had to be taken back to Yuba so that his child could be saved. It wasn't even all for his child, either. While that may have been the catalyst, the equipment was going to be used to save more lives in the future. But the people that appeared before them could ruin all that. Cameron took lives before for the sake of living in peace, so he had no qualms about having to do so again if left with no other choice.

Then the emergency exit on the roof of the first bus opened, and a black man in an army uniform climbed up waving a white shirt tied to a stick.

"We don't want to fight," he claimed. "There are fifty civilians in these buses, and an engagement between us would cause them harm as well."

"We can't just take your word for it," Harry responded. "Show us—preferably a child so we can be certain. I know what that sounds like, but we have nothing to gain from harming a kid."

The man looked reluctant, but he looked down the emergency exit and spoke to some people. A few minutes later a scared looking dark haired woman climbed out closely followed by a little girl no more than five years old. Harry then said that he was convinced and that they could go back inside.

"Thank you, now please stand down," the man said.

"You first."

"But—"

"Having civilians isn't a total guarantee that you won't start shooting at us. Besides, if we were hostile then we'd have begun shooting the second you people were in range."

Again, he spoke down at the people within the bus, and a few seconds later the guns withdrew from the windows. Harry gave the signal, and all the truck leaders lowered their weapon as well.

"One other thing," Harry said. "It's been seven months since the outbreak, so where the hell have you people been all this time?"

"A mall to the northeast of here," the man answered, causing some of those present to look at one another in surprise. A mall of all places? Seriously? "We only managed to escape now because for the past several days there was a decline in the number of infected surrounding us. Now, who exactly are all of you?"

"We're survivors. What does it look like?"

"I mean which fighting force did you belong to?"

"Some of us here were National Guard," Harry answered. "Although we trai—"

Harry stopped when the man spoke to the other people for a third time. Only this time another man wearing a trench coat climbed out. He took a second to look up and down the convoy and rubbed his gloved hands together. "I am Governor Arnold Sutler," he announced to the surprise of the some of his listeners. "And from here on in I shall be calling all the shots."

"Excuse me?" one of the trucks leaders said in a high-pitched voice. Many others, including Cameron, were taken back by that declaration and had small outbursts of their own.

"You heard me," Sutler went on, unfazed. "You're National Guard, which places you under my authority. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Harry said spoke up. "We do understand." If Cameron didn't have any respect for Harry then he might have shot him. "But before we speak any further let's go somewhere less packed with infected to talk."

"Lead the way, then," Sutler told him, as he and the man went back into the bus.

"Turnbull, Marsh, Evans, set up a machinegun so those zombies in front of those buses can be mowed down," Harry ordered as he went back into the cab.

"Get the machinegun and clear the zombies between the first two buses," Cameron ordered the people inside his truck.

"Who?"

"I don't care." Cameron was pissed. And since he was a truck leader he might as well make the most of his position. When he reentered the cab he heard the CB radio going berserk.

"What the fuck, Harry?"

"Bullshit!"

Cameron picked up the mouthpiece, and yelled angrily, "Our leader is Isturez, remember?"

"I didn't even vote for this guy!"

"We don't even know anything about these people."

The bitching and moaning just went on, until Harry finally shouted, "WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! I told Sutler that I understood that we're supposed to be under his authority. What I didn't say was that I didn't give a rat's ass—and when we get to a place that'll allow us to get more of our guns out into the open I'll tell him that." Cameron leaned back into his seat and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god. There wasn't much point in suddenly having a politician coming in and taking charge in that day and age.

"Odds are he won't like that," Wesley said with some concern. "If he'll want a fight do we intend to give it to him even with all those civilians?"

"Only if he's petty enough. This is how things need to happen."

The machineguns allowed the buses to get moving again, so they joined the convoy as they made their way out of the city. Over the next several miles the area had blessedly become rural again. Not since the day of the outbreak was Cameron happy to see nothing but rolling hills and farmland. The zombies that had given them chase from the city were eventually shaken off in a series of twists and turns.

The convoy was now going east on a bare stretch of road. Eventually Harry gave the order for trucks to pull off to the side of the road. The buses too came to a stop next to the convoy, and the doors swung open to let some people off. The truck leaders disembarked and followed Harry as he walked up to meet face to face with Arnold Sutler. In the meanwhile the rest of the militia got on the roof of the trucks to perform zombie watch, and to help out if things went downhill.

From each bus four soldiers got off. That made fourteen in total, including the first man they spoke to and Sutler.

"What's going on?" Sutler demanded testily. "We can't afford to waste time. There's a rescue operation that I want to get in the works."

Harry had opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it as he looked at Sutler curiously. "A rescue operation?" He gave a quick look to his leaders and they were all probably thinking the same thing: it was less than an hour since the guy thought himself in command.

"Yes, to the University of Maryland."

That caused some immediate muttering. "Uh…you do realize that that's on the east coast, right?" Harry asked as if speaking to someone slow.

"Of course, but my son goes there. I can't give up hope until I find out if he's alive or not."

"Listen," Harry said, running his hand over his mouth, "you're family wasn't the only one torn apart by this. I myself haven't heard from my sister and her family—but I can't just abuse our resources and go all the way to Phoenix."

"Well I can."

"Hey!" he exclaimed, becoming more aggressive. "Even if were letting you take power there is no chance in hell that anybody would go along with that plan.'

"Sorry? 'Letting' me take power? I am taking power because that is my duty. You're National Guard, I'm the governor, so you listen to me!"

Harry crossed his arms. "Not all of us here were National Guard."

"Be that as it may, but as citizens of Wisconsin—"

"I'm from Minneapolis, dude," one of the truck leaders spoke up.

"I'm from Chicago," Cameron said indignantly.

"So, yeah, you aren't taking power," Harry said firmly.

Sutler turned around and looked helplessly at his gunmen, who were just at a loss at what to do as he was. After all, they were outnumbered. "Well—well my people aren't just going to accept this! For the past seven months I was the one who kept things in order, the one who made sure I food supply lasted us as long as it did, and the one who made sure there was no chaos when we started running low."

"So you're saying that some of the people here haven't eaten in a while?"

"Yes—but they might have gone longer if it wasn't—"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said dismissively. "Marsh, Wesley, Dorian. Get some of your rations and hand them out." He then added quietly so only they could hear, "And make sure they know what we're doing here, because it's our way or the highway. I want there to be no surprises when we get back home."

"Don't move!" Sulter said angrily and futilely. "I will not trust the lives of my people to a bunch of…of—rebels!" Harry and the truck leaders immediately began laughing at those words, causing Sutler to get even angrier.

Cameron and the other two went to the trucks and collected some of the rations into boxes. Once they had enough, they went into different buses and began handing them out. When Cameron appeared on the bus they were curious about the newcomer, but quickly lit up when they saw he was handing out food. Many of the adults were malnourished and Cameron had to tell them to keep back to make sure that everyone got some food.

As he was handing out the rations some of the people bombarded him with questions. What were they doing? Where did they come from? What would they do now? Was everything okay now? A lot even wanted to know why such a young person like him was carrying a gun. When Cameron was done he put the box down and called for attention.

"I have a bit of an announcement. Right now Arnold Sutler is bitching at my CO because he and none of our people are cooperating with him," Cameron told them, causing a few looks to be traded around. "We aren't tyrannical, we aren't a dictatorship, or anything like that. It's just that we're proud of what we've accomplished these past seven months, and we aren't about to let anybody come and potentially fuck with it. Is anybody here not willing to trade Sutler's leadership for food, shelter, and warmth?"

Silence met his words for a few seconds, then one of the people stood up. "Um, you see, I can't imagine any of us mind…but the problem's Sutler."

"He's being handled, don't worry."

"No, that's the thing," she went on. "He did a pretty good job at first. But as time passed he became more and more unhinged.

Cameron arched an eyebrow. "How unhinged."

The woman raised her wrists, which were bound, something Cameron must have missed during the initial rush to get food. "I'm a nutritionist, and I just kept on trying to get him to change the way he distributed food."

"And last month there was small talk of making him step down," another person said. "The people responsible were thrown over the walls of the mall to the zombies—still alive!"

There was an instant uproar of more excuses. "It's his family," a voice said over the crowd. "He lost his wife and daughter that first day when he was being evacuated before ending up at that mall. Now he thinks that the only chance his son in Maryland has at rescue is if he stays in charge."

He was getting a lot more than he bargained for. "Okay! Hey, shut up! I got it. Let me ask how much longer it will be until we leave."

Back up front he saw that Harry was still arguing with Sutler. The other two that handed out food told Cameron a similar story of how the governor was losing it.

"I keep on telling you that that title doesn't mean jack shit these days," Harry shouted.

"And I keep telling you that I am not giving up my duty. I swore an oath that I intend to uphold."

"That's it," he said, turning away from Sutler. "Get me Andrea's handcuffs. This stubborn idiot needs to be held down more than she does."

"I'm tired of this," Sutler declared. "Fire!"

On pure instinct did everyone with a gun turn their weapons on Sutler and his gunmen, but they managed to not pull the trigger. The gunmen all looked scared and confused about what to do. All they did was raise their rifles halfheartedly without actually picking a target.

"Enough!" the man that had spoken to them first said, stepping in front of the man. "Sir, we are outnumbered and outgunned. But they clearly have no hostile intentions. I say we just go along with what they say, otherwise they might just leave us here."

"Are you siding with these rebels, Bowman?" Sutler spat.

"I'm just thinking about what's best for all of us."

"Well that isn't what I need from you!" With one hand Sulter pushed the man out of the way, and with the other he took a pistol out from Bowman's holster. He then haphazardly took aim at Harry's turned back, and pulled the trigger. A round went off, catching Harry and taking a bloody chunk out of his left side.

Cameron didn't even think. With his rifle already out, he trained it on Sutler and let off two rounds—but he wasn't the only one. Five other people had joined in, and in less than three seconds Sutler fell to the ground riddled with bullet holes.

Harry had fallen to the ground too, and he was letting out painful noises as he grasped at his bleeding wound. Everybody began flocking to him, and Cameron could see the gash created by large amount of missing flesh. Henry had rushed forward and immediately took command.

"We have to get him back home quickly," Henry ordered, as he and Dorian carried Harry off.

"You!" Wesley said angrily to Bowman. "You and your men can stay loyal to that dead man, or you can come with us. Either way the civilians clearly wanna come with us, so if you do too I suggest getting back on those buses now."

There was an immediate scramble to get things back in order. Cameron and other truck leaders had to shout and scream for people to get back on their trucks. Finally the vehicles started rolling again. What a goddamn waste of time, Cameron thought to himself, thoroughly pissed with the whole thing.