Life After the Undead (Book 1 in the Life After the Undead Series)

CHAPTER 25

I awoke later that night in a bed connected to IVs. My shoulder had been bandaged, and it was still sore. Quinn sat on the chair across from me. He came forward and sat on the edge of the bed. He pushed the hair out of my face, resting his hand on my cheek.

"Did you get in a fight with a cat?" He chuckled.

I playfully pushed his hand away. "At least I have some battle scars. Were you even involved in the fight?"

"Hey, that's not fair. My wrist still hurts." He held up his arm so I could see the brace.

I rolled my eyes. "It'd mean more if it'd been injured in the battle." I grabbed his hand and held it. "How many were killed?"

"About ten. And that's including soldiers."

"Not bad. It could have been a lot worse."

"I think most of them were tired of the life. I mean, you saw how quickly they surrendered once Liet was captured. I think fear kept them motivated."

"What are we going to do with them?"

Quinn shook his head. "Nothing. Those who want to will be integrated back into the population. We'll figure out what to do with those who don't want to integrate later."

"Have you heard anything from Florida yet?"

He shook his head. "No. We won't let on that there has been a rebellion. If they come looking for Liet, we'll tell them he's busy."

"Where is Liet?"

"We locked him in one of the holding cells in the jail." He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. "Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

I lay back on my pillow and sighed. After Quinn left, I drifted into a deep sleep, dreaming of horses and western sunsets.

***

Life in North Platte became more tolerable. The soldiers who could be integrated into the community without incident were, while the others were placed in holding cells in the courthouse. We still didn't know what we were going to do with them, but we had a while to figure it out. Soldiers and civilians worked together to continue building the wall. They no longer worked on it in twenty-four-hour shifts, but guards were in the towers at all times, and everyone was responsible for killing any zombies that came near the city. Quinn and his crew trained those who wanted to learn fighting techniques and marksmanship so they could head into the West and kill zombies. For the first time in a while, there was a sense of hope.

I'd been out of the hospital for three days. I learned that I'd been in surgery for two hours while they dug out the bullet. My shoulder blade had been broken, but the bullet had missed the major arteries in my arm. The doctor said I was lucky. I was going to be in a sling for six weeks. I'd had to spend four days in the hospital. They'd wanted me to stay longer, but I had stuff to do.

I sat at Liet's desk and looked through a pile of papers. I squinted, shook my head, then set the folder down before I grabbed another. The door at the end of the room swung open, and Quinn walked in. I smiled, then directed my gaze back to the file.

"How's it going in here?" Quinn asked as he stepped up behind me.

"Look at this." I showed him the information. "Liet documented when they went to the bathroom. Can you believe it?"

Quinn shuffled through the folders. "How many of those are there?"

"One for every person who has ever come through North Platte."

"I thought you were looking up the supply manifests."

"I did. Liet kept the count down to the can. It didn't take very long to go through those."