Generation Z: Chapters 1 + 2

Chapter 1

Warm August sun streamed down on the makeshift firing range of Second Chance Township. A row of fidgety teenagers lay in the prone position along a chalk white line a few hundred feet from the shoddy targets. It was obvious most of them would much rather be playing baseball or sneaking a kiss behind a storage shed. But the town's rules mandated a half hour of "snapping in" practice every Tuesday and Thursday. A few of the teens seemed to be more interested in their tasks; making sure their rifles were properly positioned and their sights lined up.

A middle-aged man strolled up and down the line; barking orders wearing a faded, threadbare military cover; desperately trying to harken back to the days before the "event" when he was a feared Army sergeant, responsible for training real recruits. He had long since resigned himself, however, to the fact that these kids were just that still...kids. As long as they listened and kept the chatter to a minimum he didn't come down on them too hard. Some of his former peers (God rest their souls) might say he was getting soft; but he preferred the term "adapting".

"All right, settle down!" he barked in a gruff tone. He was rewarded with a few half-hearted (and even a couple earnest) replies of "Yes Sergeant." With a weary sigh, he continued, "You all know, I hope by now, about sight alignment. We need to be working on our breathing. I've seen some of you suck in your breath or flinch when you squeeze that trigger. When you got a pissed-off Z shambling at you, you need to be steady and accurate, understand?"

He watched them for a few minutes; making some adjustments here and there. He prayed for their sake they'd be ready if, heaven forbid, a serious incident or breach were to occur. He already saw the leaders in the group, those who had their shit "squared away". Sean McKenzie, the dark-haired 16 year old who always talked of joining the Town Security Force when he turned 18. The strawberry-blonde twins, Hope and Faith Marshall, not the best soldiers, but intelligent and charismatic like their parents. And Anthony Cosenza, the shy, reserved friend of Sean whose silence hid his perceptive mind and steady nerves.

"Now, I know you kids are tired of laying out here in the dirt, dry-firin' these broke-ass old M-16s; but I got some good news." "The Council has approved a live fire drill next week, so we can see how you're really progressing." Only a low murmur of excitement swept through his class. Sergeant Gutierrez was proud though; he'd fought for months to get these kids some live fire time. They needed to be ready, not just firing "in theory", if they were to have any chance against the Zs.

He ran them through a few more minutes of practice until he saw a familiar APC at the sally-port. It was some of the town's security force back from a raid for materials. Many of them were relatives or friends of the teens, so he excused them to go meet them.

Sean ran toward the sally-port, anxious to hear the stories of the raid team. Doing a silent count he was relieved to see that all of the ones that left were back, no casualties. He stepped toward a tall man, only a few years older than he, wearing a tactical vest and body armor. Slapping his hand in a greeting, "Hey there, Matt, how was it? Sorry...err Corporal Ritter, I mean." The young man chuckled, "Relax, Sean, you can still call me Matt. It went pretty well, I got 4 confirmed zombie kills. Plus I found this." Reaching into the back of the APC, Matt pulled out a soccer ball, still in the cardboard frame from the sporting store. "We stopped at a sporting goods place to top off on ammo and I managed to talk the Sergeant into letting me keep this." Unbuckling his tac vest, Matt pulled the ball from the cardboard, kicking it across the ground and toward the makeshift soccer field nearby. Sean and a lot of the other teens followed, laughingly starting a game of soccer with their older friend.

The revelry of the game was to be short-lived, however. Only a few minutes in, one of the proximity alarms began to sound. The weary soldiers snapped to attention, shrugging off the fatigue of days on the road as they grabbed their weapons and reharnessed their gear. Sentries in towers around the high gates of the town scanned the horizon. Within moments, they relayed the situation down to the Lieutenant on the scene. Some of the teens tried to get closer, or peer into view ports around the gates to see what's going on, but the town security forces kept them back, and told them to go to their designated locations.

Resigning themselves to going inside, the teens chatter amongst themselves excitedly (and more than a little fearfully). "What do you think is going on, Tony?", questioned Andy, a scruffy-haired, bespectacled 14 year old, one of the youngest in the group. "Dunno, Andy; probably just a few zombies in the outer perimeter like usual." Tony replied, praying silently that he was right. Andy adjusted his ill-fitting glasses and nodded somberly. Waiting in the meeting area of the town hall, the center building in their small town, the teens were herded up by some adults. Brad Marshall, Hope and Faith's dad, calmly led the teens into the armory and handed them each a rifle and a couple dozen rounds of ammo. It was an all-too-familiar ritual, and fortunately they had never had to fire the weapons.

For a long half hour they waited in the town hall, every so often they heard the sharp crack of a rifle or burst from one of the automatic weapons. Overall it seemed quiet, and usually that was a good sign. But still no one talked, no one dared to. Candace Vega let a nervous sob escape, Anthony looked over and could see she was trembling. He placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, and she grasped it tightly. They were all in this together, they always had been. Sean counted and recounted his rounds silently; his ears perked up for any noise to clue him in to what was going on. After some time they were beginning to relax; they could still hear the shouted orders of the soldiers and there hadn't been any gunfire for a few minutes. Andy even let out a deep sigh of relief. But then, as if on cue to his sigh, it happened.

At first it was a small explosion. The familiar sound of the one of the town's ad hoc perimeter mines being tripped by a too-close zombie. But within a moment there was a nearly deafening roar of another explosion. The lights in the town hall flickered and went out, in the dark some of the teens and adults let out a scream of fright. Slowly the lights flickered back on, nervous murmuring erupting as everyone tried to figure out what happened. Outside they could hear the soldiers yelling and swearing. Mr. Marshall ran to the door and yelled out "What happened?!" and then stepped outside to talk to Lieutenant Laurent. Candace held tightly to Anthony's arm; all the teens, in fact, seemed to huddle closer together.

What seemed like an eternity later, the door of the town hall opened. Some of the teens raised their rifles nervously, but breathed a sigh of relief as Mr. Marshall stepped in. "The outer fence on the east side of town was breached and destroyed. They've contained it in the secondary fence but...but it looks like we lost a lot of the crops. Don't be scared...we'll think of something." As he finished speaking, a tall white-haired man in his 60s entered. It was the intimidating, humorless leader of the town, Frederick Montgomery. He folded his hands in front of him, as was his habit, and spoke; "That will suffice, Mr. Marshall. Children put the rifles back in the armory and return to your family's quarters. There will be an all-citizen's meeting later this evening."

Silent now, the teens returned the rifles and ammunition to the armory cage, before shuffling wordlessly home. What would the meeting hold, they could only guess. But they were certainly old enough to realize the severity of losing that much of the season's crops.



Chapter 2

The meeting hall of Second Chance Township was alive with the dull roar of worried conversation. All 413 members of the small survivor's town crammed into the converted church, nervously awaiting word on the aftermath of this afternoon's incident. Rumors flied as to the fate of the town; from the apocalyptic to the blase.

Sean turned around the pew his family was inhabiting to talk to Anthony. He tried to lighten the mood with some teasing about how Anthony had taken more than a friendly interest in Candace lately; but his friend's serious expression soon deflated any levity he tried to inject into the conversation.