“How did you guys find us?” Daniel asked, after Hambone had painfully removed the bullet from his shoulder and bandaged him.  

“Well, after we got a crazy morse code message from the Frisco Clan, we went down to the shore and commandeered us some boats.” Sterns scratched his head. “Once we were on this side, your girlfriend . . . er . . . whatever she is, put scouts in the tallest buildings. Didn’t take long to spot the overseers’ column moving this way.”

“We took out the overseers with some of your grenades. Then we shot it out with these Frisco fools. Olivia smiled at him.

The large force of Oakland Clan members cleared the remainder of the Transamerica Pyramid Center and found just under a thousand people locked in various rooms. It seemed that not everybody agreed with Stigler and Ronnie, and those who didn’t found themselves locked up and on the menu. The gay pair and their followers had been eating their own clan members for some time.

The rescue team stayed in Frisco for only one more day, leaving Tiana behind to teach the Frisco Clan members how to take out pods and get food. She was now in charge with twenty well-armed Oakland Clan members to back her orders. Tiana’s first order of business was to move the clan underground, and out of the overseers’ reach.

Once Daniel and his group were back on the Oakland side of the bay, they were greeted with a surprise. Several horsemen had arrived, requesting to join up. They were the survivalists from Hilt.

“Room for a few more?” The survivalists were led by a man named Kenneth Zumbolt.

“We’d be happy to have you.” Daniel shook Kenneth’s hand, happy that they were very well-armed. Kenneth Zumbolt was a bald and muscular white man with a pencil thin moustache. Kenneth seemed competent.

Another group had also arrived, this one also in search of Dat. It was Barbara’s group from the waterpark. The bookish looking portly woman gave Daniel a big hug, saying, “Do you remember us? We were living In the tunnel in the water park? You gave me bullets for my pistol.”

“Of course,” Daniel answered. How could he forget. If she had any bullets at the time, the woman would have killed him.

“You really saved us! My people were on the brink of starvation when you found us. I hid on one of the old waterslides and managed to score two deer with my .38. Thanks to you, we had meat!” Barbara thanked him.

“Outstanding!” Daniel had been astonished that she had managed to kill two deer with such a small caliber weapon and certainly looked at the woman with a newfound respect.

“We traded meat for medicine with a family that was holed up nearby. They had one of those solar operated ham radios,” she explained. “We learned that a Commander Dat was leading a resistance back in Oakland, so we packed up and came. We want to join up.”

“You are more than welcome here.” Daniel was pleased to have them.

Later that night Daniel had an intense dream. Andrea was standing in a misty fog, waving at him to come. She kept saying, over and over again, “Find us.”

Daniel startled awake, realizing that someone was in his bed. That someone smelled of strawberries, although he hadn’t seen one in years, and was snuggled deep into the crook of his arm. Olivia peered at him with a sleepy grin, “I missed you. That’s all.”

“I have ta’ go,” he said.

“Go where?” she yawned.

“Home. To Oceanside. I have to know what happened to my wife and kids.”

“That’s about four hundred-and fifty-miles Dat. How’re ya’ gonna do that?” she asked, looking worried now.

“I can take a horse.”

“Are you kidding? That’s not safe. I know Hambone got the bullet out, but maybe you have a fever. Besides, what if there’re no answers there?” she asked. “Not to mention that you just got this whole resistance thing going. It’ll fall apart without you.”

“If there’s any chance that I can get some answers, then I must try. I’ll stay for another month, firming up the resistance, but then I’m going,” he stated.

“Then I’m going with you,” she advised.

“No, I need you here. Running things in my absence.”

Olivia leaned over and kissed him on the chin, saying, “I think this is a bad idea.”

                                                                   *     *     *

The following month, the growing clan hit several pods. Many of the first people that they had rescued were now off emotional quarantine and were helping them fight. Casualties were light, and things were going very well.

The Dog Pack bounty hunter crew returned towards the end of the month. The bikers were loaded with weapons, food, cigarettes, and beer. They had stolen all of the goods from Stan the Man’s sheds, just as Daniel had ordered. Then Jilly arrived with an entourage from the Sacramento Clan. They had come to trade weapons for food.

The beautiful woman was wearing a black blouse and a tight black mini skirt, with knee high black boots. Daniel couldn’t even hazard a guess as to how she had travelled on horseback like that, but he was glad that she had. She was looking good.

A large party ensued in the underground club, where Daniel had been held captive, that went late into the night. Daniel expected trouble between Olivia and Jilly, since he had been sleeping with both women, and each had some level of undefined interest in him.

It seemed tense between the two at first, but once Stan the Man’s liberated beer started to flow, the two girls started getting along like two long lost friends. Jilly and Olivia began dancing very seductively on one of the stripper poles for him, staring at him in a way that sent shivers down his spine.

After giving Olivia a few stripper pole pointers, Jilly came over and sat on Daniel’s lap. The woman was driving him nuts, wiggling in all the right ways. The beer continued to flow, and after he got drunk, Daniel lost track of both women.

When Daniel made it back to his quarters, he found the two of them sitting on his bed, locked in a passionate kiss. He started to back out of the room, but both women jumped up and grabbed him by his hands.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jillian smiled.

“Wwwe wwwere waiting for yyyou.” Olivia giggled, badly slurring her words.

The two women pulled him back into the room, and one of them drew the curtain closed. How was it possible to be getting more post-apocalyptic action than he had ever even dreamed of back in his single days?

Five hours later, Daniel left the two spent and sleeping women. He penned a note for Olivia, telling her that he had left for home and she was in charge. After placing a soft kiss on each of the women’s foreheads, he grabbed his pack. His gunshot wound had healed up nicely, so it was time to go.

Hambone met him near the entrance to the tunnels. with a sturdy horse named Sparky. Daniel figured that if he could stay on the roads, he could do over fifty miles a day, even at night. It should take him about nine or ten days to reach Oceanside.

“He was a quarter horse. Strongest mount that we have. Still, take a day and rest him about halfway,” Hambone advised. “He’ll get you there and back.”

“Thanks.” Daniel took the reins.

“You sure you don’t want some company?” the red-haired man questioned. ”You only need ask.”

“Nah. This is my journey. I have to do this one alone,” Daniel said.

“Well, you just make sure that you come back to us. If you’re not back in twenty days, we’re coming after you,” Hambone advised.

“You just make sure that you look after Olivia,” Daniel answered as he galloped away.

Daniel rode the horse at night and slept in barns, sheds, or houses during the day. The farther south he went, the more eerie and quiet it became and the more seekers he started to see. He avoided all population centers, and took State Highway 101, thinking that the overseers’ columns mostly stuck to Highway 5.

Daniel skirted wide around Los Angeles, and finally reached Oceanside on the ninth day, with only having seen a handful of seekers and a couple of drones off in the distance at night. It had been a quiet, peaceful journey, and he liked riding the horse. He hadn’t been on one since he had worked on his grandad’s cattle ranch back when he was eighteen.

Daniel had let his mind wander to anything, except what he might find once he got home. Now he stood facing the Sea Breeze Apartment Complex, where his apartment was. It was low rent housing, as he had to survive on corporal pay, but was decent enough. Of course, the ocean was three blocks away, so there really wasn’t much of a sea breeze here.

Oceanside, like most small towns, had very little seeker damage. The majority of the bald collectors were gathering in the big cities. Oceanside looked like a normal town, minus the people, plus the grass and weeds were way out of control. Okay, now he was seriously stalling.

Daniel’s custom FXDR 114 soft tail motorcycle was long gone, but his old beat up brown 2015 Chevrolet Silverado still sat in its parking spot. He tied Sparky to a fence post and walked over to the rear fender of his old truck and ran his fingers over a small dent and two-inch scratch, where Adrian had rammed it with his tricycle. A slight smile crossed his face as he relived the memory.

A movement out of his peripheral vision caught his attention, bringing his .357 out in a flash. Daniel dropped a seeker as it charged towards him, killing it with one shot between the eyes. They may not group up in the smaller towns, but there were still singles to deal with. It was time. Daniel went up the stairs to his second-floor apartment.

The nervous man placed his hand on the dark black metal doorknob and hesitated. Did he really want to do this? How could he not? Maybe it would be locked. It wasn’t. With a slight push, he was home.

The apartment was a mess. It seemed to have been ransacked numerous times, and everything of use had been taken. There were two gunshot holes in the refrigerator door and when he went into his bedroom, he let out a long moan. Lying on the bed was a body on its stomach. It wore blue jeans and a black shirt.

When Daniel rolled the body over, he realized that it was now mostly skeleton, with remnants of dried out hair and skin clinging to it. The dead person wore an ACDC t-shirt. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that it had been a man. Daniel wasn’t able to find any clues as to what had happened to his family. That is until he found the note.

It had been lying on the table, under a spilt plant that was now just dirt and some dried out petals. The only thing visible was his name, in Andrea’s rushed handwriting. With trembling hands, Daniel pulled it out and after shaking off the dirt, began to read.

Danny,

Waited for you for over a week. Heard bits and pieces from neighbors that there was an invasion. They said that our military was wiped out, with only remnants still in hiding. I can only assume that something has happened to you, or you would have gotten to us.

It’s getting bad here. Lootings and killings. A man broke into the house early this morning and I shot him with that little gun that you got me for Christmas. He died right by the refrigerator.

I have packed up what we need and am taking the kids to Alcatraz, where people are talking about a resistance. People say that it isn’t as bad to the north. The Johnson kid from down the street stole your bike and I don’t think that your old truck will make it that far, so we are going in my Tahoe. If you are reading this, find us. We need you baby.

Love,

Tinkerbell

Daniel Allen Taylor sat in his kitchen chair for several minutes after reading his letter, and cried like a baby. He hadn’t grieved over his family since the invasion, always holding out a tiny sliver of hope, but now that was gone. He had only heard bad things about Alcatraz.

Daniel spent two private hours in his home, going through memories and trinkets. Once he was done, he gathered up the letter and a couple of photos. He left the place, putting it all behind him. He had one sole purpose now. He was going to go to Alcatraz and kill every single overseer that he could find. He would not rest until they were all dead. Every last one of them.

Daniel was on day three of his return trip when tragedy struck. In the dark, Sparky stepped into a pothole and broke his leg. “Damnit! Damnit!! Damnit!!!” he yelled, angry with himself.

Daniel had pushed the horse way too hard and now he was forced to put him down. This left him on foot and at least three hundred miles from Oakland. Before he lost his horse, he had been making good time, and even with skirting Los Angeles, was already on the 101 south of Oxnard, California.

The August sun was brutal, so Daniel was glad to be walking at night. Still, he had sweated out valuable liquids while sleeping in an old barn that day. He managed to locate a few wells, but they were modern ones that had run on electricity. Water might become an issue.

Daniel exited the barn and started his trek north. After walking all night, he reached Oxnard, where he started to look for his daytime shelter. Then his eye caught sight of some movement. He saw two kids standing near a building just off the State Route. He only saw them for a second, but damned if they didn’t look like Adrian and Alesia.

Daniel wiped the sweat from his eyes, knowing that it was impossible. Still, he had to check it out. He made his way over to where he had seen them. The area appeared to have earthquake damage, with a road called Oxnard Street torn up and jutting skyward. While Daniel picked his way over the uneven concrete, he lost his footing and began to slide towards a dark crevice. 

Daniel managed to catch the edge of a slab, with his feet dangling into the darkness below. Not being able to see into the black chasm, he couldn’t help but feel like a tasty morsel, hanging onto the lip of a giant underground earth beast.  

In normal conditions, the muscular man would have been able to pull himself up. But, Daniel was not healthy. He had been shot, pronged, and stabbed in his shoulders over the past two months, not to mention that he had also broken his wrist. The residual aches and pains caused his arms to give way, dropping him into the darkness below.

Daniel didn’t fall far, maybe eight feet, where he landed on something that was surprisingly soft. It took him a moment to dig out his flashlight, which flickered on, lighting the room. He quickly unholstered his .357 Taurus when he saw what he had landed on. A seeker!

Daniel looked about, noting that there were six of them, lying on bed slabs made from the overseer’s white material, the same that made the pod walls. All six seekers, including the one that he had landed on, were still asleep. He was inside of a command module that had been sucked into the earth by the earthquake.

He thought about shooting the seekers in their heads while they slept, but was unsure if the first shot would wake the others. Best just to get away from here as quickly as possible. Daniel started looking for a way out.

The front end of the module, where the screens and controls were, was crushed by a large slab of asphalt and earth. The only way out was the way that he had come, but it would be a climb. From the looks of the disturbed earth, the seekers had been doing it. Then the worst happened.

The wake-up whistle sounded, causing all six of the seekers to immediately sit straight up. They began to sniff at the air around them and growl. Daniel put two bullets into the foreheads of the two seekers directly in front of him. Then the one that he had landed on grabbed him from behind, locking him in a tight bear hug.

Daniel squeezed off one more shot, before the Taurus went sliding across the floor in the struggle. The bullet struck the knee of a seeker that was approaching him from the front. The wounded seeker swung his pry bar at Daniel, who ducked forward, causing the bar to strike the seeker that was holding him.

When his captor fell backwards, releasing him, Daniel went for his boot knife and began slashing and stabbing. Back and forth he hacked at the remaining bald men, wounding them numerous times. His arm grew weary from all of the thrusting and swinging. His knife became slippery with their blood and he accidently sliced his own hand when it slipped.

The seekers were hard to kill. It took Daniel all of five very gory minutes to end the lives of the last four. After Daniel was finished, he was covered in blood and was very exhausted. Once he wrapped his new wound, Daniel leaned back against one of the dead seekers and fell asleep.

When he woke from a peaceful sleep, his gruesome reality came flooding back in. Daniel needed to get out of this command module of death. He started the treacherous climb back up to the surface, using an exposed root to assist him. It actually turned out to be easier than he had expected, and he slipped only once.

When Daniel reached the surface, it was a bit past midday. Seeing his children must have been his mind playing tricks on him, after his heartbreaking return home. He made his way back to the highway and headed north on Route 101. After walking the rest of the day and through the night, he found an old corn silo, just in time. Not only because he was exhausted, but he also needed to clean his cut because his hand was getting infected, and he was running out of antiseptic.

Daniel spent another evening walking, and did not see the children again. It had been wishful thinking, and he had to let them go, or it would drive him crazy. He busied himself singing some of his favorite songs as he walked steadily north.  

That evening, Daniel rested in an old tool shed. His feet were aching. Motorcycles and horses had spoiled him. He popped several blisters on his feet, and inspected his hand. The infection was spreading, and it didn’t help that he was now out of water.

Daniel awoke with a fever, caused by his hand infection growing worse. The only medicine that he had left was aspirin. When he exited the shed, he almost headed in the wrong direction. Daniel walked all night, and was startled on a couple of occasions when he realized that he was mumbling randomly.

Daniel made his bed that day in the back of an old Ford truck that sat on the shoulder of the road. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was all that he had. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when he was awakened by gun shots. Sparse at times, then rapid, again followed by a single shot here and there. The sounds were some distance to his north.

Daniel figured that he had been making about twenty-five miles a night on foot. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was, but since the land had started rising into the mountains, he believed that he was near a town that he had ridden through on his way down south. After an hour of walking, he arrived at the place, Wheeler Springs.

“Town” was a stretch. Village would be more apt. It seemed to be a small series of buildings that grew up around a natural hot spring. None of that held his gaze. What did was the dead seekers. Someone had killed eight of them in various locations along the main street. He didn’t have to wait long to find out who had done it. That someone was coming up behind him.

When Daniel turned around, he saw horse riders. Dozens of them. Way too many to count, slowly riding towards him. Several of the riders had pistols on their hips and rifles slung over their backs. Interestingly, each one carried a stick of dynamite on their belts. This looks like an old west movie, he thought.

Over half of the riders were Hispanic, wearing large sombreros and multi-colored serapes. Now, more riders were coming up the street from the direction that he had come from. Daniel sat down in a rocking chair on the porch of a storefront. Six riders broke off from the main group and rode up to him.

“Does the Border Patrol know that you’re this far north?” Daniel winked.

One of the Hispanic men smiled at him and climbed off his horse. He had a flowing black moustache and a five o’clock shadow for a beard. He was smoking a mushy wet cigar. The man looked very dirty and even a bit tired.

“I’m Juan Carlos Cortez-Monteverde, leaders of this rag-tag bands of misfits,” he said with a very thick accent and adding extra s’s to some words.  

“I’m Daniel Allen Taylor.”

“Why do you show no fears of us Daniel Allen Taylor? A lone traveller can run into all sorts of troubles in this days and age.” Juan Carlos continued to smile at him.

“The way I see it, is that you have me out-numbered and out-gunned. Not much I can do about that, and there’s no reason to get all excited about it,” Daniel explained, holding up his bandaged hand. “Any chance you have some medicine?”

Juan Carlos nodded and called out, “Doc!”

A small white man with silver rimmed spectacles climbed off his horse and came over. He unwrapped Daniel’s hand very carefully, and after squeezing out a lot of pus, poured a white powder all over it. While Doc rewrapped the infected appendage with clean bandages, Juan Carlos and Daniel continued their conversation.

“So, you aren’t going to kill me?” Daniel questioned.

“What makes you say that?” Juan Carlos smiled again. There was a warm feeling about the guy.

“Well, you just fixed me up. Doubt you’d do that if you were planning on killing me.”

“We don’t kill peoples unless we have to,” Juan Carlos advised.

“Well, I must say that I like your handy work here.” Daniel nodded towards one of the dead seekers.

“Unfortunately, they’re no longer peoples. We tried to remove one of the headbands and they just gos completely nuts. They have to be puts down,” Juan Carlos stated.

“That’s what I’ve heard. It’s unfortunate,” Daniel said

“Doesn’t matter. You may joins us if you wish. We’ve heards of a great man leading a resistance to the north. A Major Reyes has been moose codings the reports daily. A man called Commander Dat. First, my people and I are going to get cleans in the hot springs. Then we’re going to travels north to join this great man, if he’ll have us.”

“He’ll have you.” Daniel smiled knowingly.