Amongst Them.

Where The Ends Meet.

Before anyone had any chance to react to the first set of hands cuff against the exterior, Monroe suddenly yelled, "HEADS DOWN NOW. NOW!" Instinctively, no one dared to refuse Monroe's orders, and each and everyones head went down, even John, and coordinated gunshots blasted through the hills for miles. John pulled out his little handgun, wielded it like some sort of Seal Team soldier, and looked around only to notice others in the same kind of shock as him. No one seemed hurt in any way.

He knelt his head outside of the covered cargo port and saw several biters' heads either bulls-eyed in the forehead, or completely blasted away. "What the hell?," John whispered to himself.

Sarah's joyous face turned to see the reaction of the faint passengers, a bit surprised to see John with a gun out and ready to kill. John noticed her and he quickly put it away as the others eyed him strangely. "Sorry," he said, head down. Monroe rolled his window down, shaped his hands in the shape of a megaphone, and yelled at the trees,

"Don't scare the kids too much, will you? They're new!," a handful of men with scoped rifles leaning against their shoulders pitched themselves up, surprising John, the others, and one of them yelled back,

"Sorry!," echoed the boss-looking man's voice. What a sniper brigade, John thought.

"It was pretty damn funny though," John heard Monroe say after he told the people by the main gate to open it up and let the lucky fuckers in the back in, then rolled his window up. The truck started up again, the pulleys and gears twisted within the gate, and the colossal doors slowly swung open, revealing a new world for John, and the rest.

-

Chatter of the townspeople hummed in the air in response to Monroe's new pick up - which was the passengers in the back. Groups of people huddled together here and there, talking vigorously, little children played ball near a small clearing between some trailers, and teenagers John's age whispered at their appearance. John eyed a few girls sharing things behind their hands. It was always amusing to see girls think that no one can hear what they say to their girlfriends behind their hand. The truck parked in a makeshift parking lot, and the boss-man stepped out, gave the keys to a large African-American man with a beer gut and a grayish-yellow wife-beater that was probably white a year ago.

Monroe unlatched the tailgate, and everyone jumped out of the back, then inspected the hope of rebuilding civilization around them. The man with the keys stepped into the truck and drove it off and around the corner. "Hm," John said, watching the truck, and then he turned.

He just sat and stared at real people, not the dead ones which still walk to this day. Not the ones with rotting, grayish skin, their hair matted, or even stuck inside of their gelatinous rotten flesh. Hair falling out faster and faster each day as their dead bodies decomposed. No, the people around John were real, alive, well-living people that strived in Oasis, a beacon of - Well, of a lot of things. John was a little overwhelmed or mesmerized to even begin to spot out the faults.

-

After learning the neighbors names that dared to speak to people from the outside world, everyone was gathered into a circle, Monroe in the middle, and Sarah tending to something else. Weird. Again, John didn't care, he yawned deeply, in need of sleep. Monroe began his boring, same speech that he probably gave to each new group of members of Oasis,

"We're survivors, and it needs to stay that way." Monroe let his broadly spoken words with that southern drawl stamp into the heads of the newcomers, and went on from there. "At no cost, do we ever give up Oasis. Oasis is a radiant beacon of a hope in the darkness. We follow the word beacon each and every day, but look," he looked each of them square in the eyes, John more or less, to make sure everyone was listening, "Oasis is our beacon, our home now, and we're already here. We work together, we play together, and we survive together. We will respect each other," he started to stress each 'will', "we will work together, and we will survive."

If you asked each of the new members if they were ready to protect Oasis at all costs, they'd each say yes, and maybe a few of them would already be doing exactly that. But, the only one who wouldn't, is John. Skeptical John. As Monroe spoke those words of wisdom, John took in each word, the way of how he spoke, and the stance Monroe was standing while he spoke. Monroe was a mysterious man, but he got shit done from what John could tell. Hell, he set up the whole foundation that barricaded a handful of hundreds of people from the horrors of the outside world.

"Now," John buzzed back into Monroe's words, actually focusing on what he's saying, "are we gonna let anyone take Oasis from us?"

Monroe knew everyone wanted to protect it as if it was their own child, but no one spoke up. A disappointed gaze fixed on him, and he spoke up, "Are we going to let anyone take this from us?," he said more broadly, his deep voice rumbling his large figure.

Most of the group responded with a confident no, and Monroe went on, "Will we let them take anything from us?," he roared.

Cheers of no roared all around Monroe. John responded with a cringe, feeling his nervousness rise up as he spiritually sank deep beneath the crowd. Monroe chanted it over and over again, eventually bringing in scores of Oasis's people to chant with the new members. With his clenched hand up in the air, he growled, "NO!," into the bright, glowing sky. Out far into the meadow, the faint echo's of cheering danced for miles. The sounds danced so far, eventually reaching the ears of the dead. The cheering was unsettling for John, and he just wanted a trailer to rest. Just go along with it for now, he thought, people get like this sometimes.

Departing the scene for a few minutes, Monroe found Sarah waiting with a smirk on her face leaning against a trailer, "You get 'em riled up again, huh?"

"Sure did, they're hooked here for good. I'm gonna get a drink, and then assign them trailers, be back in a second," he said, then walked off from the view of John. John watched him mouth words in response to something Sarah said, it all seemed too good to be true.

Be optimistic, John thought,

But always brace yourself for anything.

~