Free American Revenant: Hometown Exodus by John L. Davis IV Page A

from the
madness that had engulfed their tiny part of the wide world, someplace to escape
too, to not have to worry about the shambling, grabbing, face eating zombies. 
A place of quiet hope, where evil men who wished to take advantage of others
wouldn’t find them so readily.  Gordy had just dashed that hope against a
sharp, bloody rock.
                    They reached the trees that Jimmy thought
would work well for a crow’s nest.  Gordy and Mike spent a few minutes
examining the area.  The trees were close together, the limbs of both trees
would allow them to build a platform for one or two people to sit and watch out
over the river.  They were twenty-five feet from the shore, with a good clear
view far up the Mississippi River. 
                    Gordy lifted a large pair of binoculars he
had hung around his neck, and spent a few minutes looking up-river.  The water
glinted and shimmered in the brilliant light of the sun, momentarily blinding
him. 
                    “I think this will work fine,” Gordy told
his companions.  “Tomorrow we can get a few guys up here to start working on
the platform and ladder.  By the way, I want to talk about going back to
Hannibal, see if the Mark Twain steamboat is still moored there.  If that thing
still runs, it would make a great mobile base, at least for a while.”
                    “That’d be pretty cool actually,” Mike said,
“maybe we could check into that boarded up store you guys were talking about,
too.”
                    “I’m game; it would be worth a shot,” Jimmy
added.
                    Gordy nodded, raising the glasses for one
last look up the river, before heading back to camp.
                    He brought the glasses down, then back up to
his eyes, making sure he wasn’t seeing spots.  Far in the distance he could see
what looked like a boat on the water, then two boats.  He watched for a moment
more, the distant spots on the water slowly coming closer.