Cultivator in a Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter Seventy One - Decisions Of The Few

The situation was pretty much as Rouse thought; of the twelve senior officers currently in charge of the base, three wanted to completely deny the request, one wanted to generously fill the request and five thought it would be good to negotiate.  The other three were watching to see in which way the winds went.  Actually, not all of the 'officers' were previously officers of the original army members based here.  Of the original senior officers there had been deaths; becoming zombies in the first wave, dying as the base was secured or during missions to secure food and supplies in those chaotic first couple of months.  One had taken his gun and ended his own life, unable to cope any longer after losing his wife and his son.

Rouse was one of the few remaining originals, but commanding an army at the end of the world was not the same as doing so in times of peace.  Even fighting skirmishes in war-torn countries could not be considered a comparison.  The enemy was a mob of mindless humanoid monsters, which were not easily killed, could not be captured alive and were driven by unending hunger to eat them.  And if that was not enough, they had to face greed and dissatisfaction of those who should be striving along side them in these dark times. 

The base looked peaceful and the people seemed to be working together in order to better their lives, but human nature is to want what cannot be had.  The fact that they had to have constant patrols around the greenhouses and storage warehouses proved that.

"As tempting as the pork sounds," Victor, a former councillor of the nearest town said aloud, "a standard pig leg can not feed many.  It would be an unfair trade to take and give a live chicken, who can produce many more eggs through its lifetime, so feed that many more people for it."

"Send them packing!" Hughes grunted.  Hughes was unfortunately also one of the original top senior officers here, a stubborn old man who was set in his ways.  Unsurprisingly, perhaps, that Randall was one of his men.

Randall was now considered an officer, but he did not have the seniority or authority to attend this meeting, for which Rouse was thankful for.  Dealing with Hughes was difficult enough.  "From what I understand," he informed them, "the pig that the meat came from had mutated."  He allowed this information to sink in; they already knew that animals that had not become zombies at the end could mutate, even gain abilities. 

One of their survivors, a middle-aged woman who had driven to the base in her own camper van, arrived with her numerous pet cats.  They only allowed her entry with them when she assured them that she would be responsible for feeding the animals and not rely on the base.  From then on, she had generally kept to herself and did as she promised, no one could say a word against her.  And then the flocks of zombified seagulls descended on them.  It had been complete chaos with screaming, terrified civilians hindering soldiers trying to protect them, while they tried to deal with the winged monsters as well as send the people to shelter.  Chang Min had been in base at that time, but earth abilities were always going to be weaker against flying beasts and he'd had to be careful not to hurt the men and women he was trying to save.  He could only try pelt the zombies with raining rocks in areas less populated and prone to damage.

One person had been caught, Rouse remembered with vivid detail; the man had tripped, not looking where he was going as he tried to shelter his head from the threat from above.  The moment he fell, a large group of the gulls had descended and began picking his flesh from his body while he was still alive!  His screams had been awful and as his living flesh began to show signs zombification, having been infected by the gulls, Rouse had made the brutal decision to shoot him and end his suffering, before turning attentions of the gulls.  But of course, that caused the gulls to turn their attention to him.

Then out of apparently nowhere, two tabbies and a black and white cat had appeared close to him.  The two tabbies had even glanced at him as if to question what he would do now, one had even began licking its paws, completely unperturbed by everything that was going on about it.  The black and white had pawed the air before it and a strange anomaly occurred; the gulls that had spread their wings to leap back into the air, suddenly seemed to have lost the ability of flight.