My Zombie Shelter (open to everyone)

guyloveshotstories

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I purchased this plot of land out in the middle of nowhere for a reason. In the Northern mountains near the Idaho/Washington/Canadian border there is a fifty acre plot of land with a 5,000 square foot cabin made of oak sitting on a slight hill looking upon the blue mountains all around. The crops were growing in, a small herd of goats were feeding in their enclosure, and in the chicken coup the eggs had already been gathered in the morning and the barn had the cows and a couple of horses. It was quiet out except for the animals going about their business. After taking care of my chores I went down to the gate to examine the defenses. There was a single winding road leading up to this place. It was steep and narrow, only a dedicated four wheeler could make it up and at the gate there was a pressure sensor that would sound an alarm if anyone stepped on it.

There hadn't been another person sighted here for a month. I left Spokane when it became overrun. I fled for my life, leaving everything behind except the clothes on my back. I didn't have family, friends, and now nothing except my property. It had been too long without companionship, the animals couldn't talk back. If they did I would have gone insane, but there had to be others out there. We had over 300 million people in this country, if you believe the reports, and they can't all be dead already.

I had a couple zombies wander in. No serious threat. I shot and buried them nearby. They didn't have ID or anything to prove whom they were, just a couple of infected kids. Damn shame.

The perimeter of the land had a solid red brick wall three feet thick and twelve feet high with higher towers every fifty or so feet with clear lanes of fire. There were no landmines but a triple stand of concertina wire was strung up before the wall with trip flares and noise makers should anyone try to cross, but this area was much too big for me to man alone.


(This is open for everyone that is looking for a safe haven from the apocalypse. I ask that if you wish to join, please approach the front gate. As creator of this thread I reserve the right to have big events to appear where everyone bands together or show their true colors.)
 
Peering through my binoculars I cautiously observe the compound from across the valley. Having spent 10 years in the marines I know the value of caution. That knowledge and my training is what has kept me alive since the apocalypse that fell over the earth just days after my return from deployment. I had taken a two week leave off duty to try and recuperate from the invisible wounds that accompanied the scars on my left arm and leg. My family had owned a small one room hunting cabin about an hour outside Cascade for generations so that is where I went rest and recuperate. Its remoteness is what got me through the initial waves of destruction. But I knew its thin walls would not protect me forever. So I saddled up one horse, loaded a second with supplies then freed the rest to find their own fates.

The extended isolation had been a relief for me. It had given me time to come to terms with the things I had done, as well as the things that had been done to me. I wondered if I should feel more for the loss off life, but my emotions were too absorbed in my own nightmares to be concerned about the rest of the world's problems.

I climbed the ridge to the glen where my horses were tethered. Whispering softly to them I explained my plans. I had watched your compound for three days now and new wild be safe. I knew you checked the gate daily and assumed was in hopes of finding survivors. Checking the saddle and packs to make sure they are secure before riding slowly down to the road that leads to the gate.

I am wearing leather boots, khaki cargo pants a green t - shirt, an olive tactical vest and green ball cap. I know it is a bit monochromatic, but function is much more important than form. I also have a .357 magnum revolver on my hip with two speed loaders in my pockets and spare rounds on my belt. A 12 gauge sits tucked next to my saddle. My vest holds canteens of water, my binoculars, a first aid kit, more spare rounds, and a compass.

I approach the gate slowly, double checking to make sure there are no mines. I flinch when I notice the pressure plate compress as the horses pass over it. I stop and wait there, wondering if this is a good decision, contemplating turning back.
 
The red light in the living room flashed and immediately I sprang to my feet and ran with my rifle out the front door towards the gate. There was people. At least I hoped there would be. Animals have ventured over the plate before, a deer or even a bear but this time I was praying that it be a human at least. Climbing up the right tower flanking the gate crouched forward I checked my rifle and ensured that there was around in the chamber and slowly rose up and aimed and saw two horses with a single rider.

Looking about there didn't seem to be anyone else around but I was cautious. It was a man, seemingly well prepared for all of this with two well laden horses. Cupping one hand around my mouth I called out: "Who goes there?"

At last, a person! A real person. He didn't appear to be wounded or sick. If he was either way I wouldn't allow him in. It would be difficult to prove his intent. He could be like me, friendly and looking for a safe place, or a murderer or thief with his partners waiting outside for the gate to be opened and come swarming in. There were no mines around him, but I wasn't going to tell him that, best to let the fear be there to give me an edge. I was going to open the gate, allow him in and have him tether his horses and allow me to search him. If he can prove his identity in some way, cards or perhaps a recognizable face I would give him back his weapons.
 
I slowly raise my hands in the air. There is an edge in his voice, he is nervous and excited. I know from experience just how dangerous that combination is, and even though I can't see him I know that if our roles were switched I would have at least one weapon pointed at my chest.

"The name is Jeff." I call. "I'm just passing through and was hoping make some trades. I have more than enough jerky for one man. Mostly all I want are smokes." I pause then add, "and i have news from the south. If you want I will leave my weapons outside the gate."
 
"Clear your weapons" I shout out, "keep them on your horse." No sense in treating him like that. I'd figure it was best that he feel a little more at ease with his weapons close, empty, but close to him instead of outside. "When you clear your weapons then i'll open the gate and we can discuss all of that inside."

My hands were still cradling my weapon. I had him lined up but also carefully going over what his horses had. I could see canteen and other items but they were covered by ponchos. Just one man. Damn, I had hoped there would be more people but the way he looked, straight back, crue cut, good build, this man must be in the service. There was that sense that he was, military carry themselves around differently than civvies.
 
Dismounting, I clear my weapons with quick efficiency, then stow them. I walk slowly into the compound, not making any sudden moves because I know he has a distinct advantage. In a way I want more than trading. I want to test myself in the company of normal people, see if I've been healed yet. But the same old ghosts haunt the back of my mind as my host final comes to view. Looking away I take a few deep breaths, resisting the urge to retreat back into the mountains. Finally I turn back to face him. In my hand I hold a strip of deer jerky out as a gift.

"Please take some." I offer, trying to be friendly. The adrenaline is still strong in his voice so I try to speak softly, but am unable to keep the emotion out of my own voice. "And I managed to scavenge some goodies on my way through McCall last week." Reaching into one of the saddle bags, I slowly pull out a roll of yellow cord.

"Det. cord" I explain. "And I'd be glad to part with it if you've got a few spare parts for my rifle. As for the jerky I'd be willing to trade a pound of it for a pack of cigarettes."
 
Slowly reaching out and taking the jerky and running its length underneath my nose to get a whiff I nibble on one end and say, "Thank you." Been awhile since I had venison jerky. I didn't smoke but I did keep some cigarettes and cigars inside along with plugs of tobacco, figured it would make good bartering tools.

"What are you using?" I ask after shutting the gate, "I do have a machine shop and spare parts. I suppose I could try to fix you up with some things, but you said that you have news from the South? I'm curious to know about that." As I spoke I took my rifle and slung it over my right shoulder, barrel pointing towards the sky before casting my eyes over at the horses. They seemed to be worn out.

Poor beasts.

"Here, before we do any of that, let's get these fellows up into the barn and have them unsaddles and allow them to eat," quickly pointing towards the horses, "I have a couple of stalls you can use. Don't worry about paying me, I got extras of everything."
 
I watched from a tree, nearly falling out as I cradled my father's binoculars in my hands, searching your compound.

Dressed in a T-shirt promoting a Warrior Run and torn up blue jeans, I carefully considered my options. I knew survivors were out there, and I had just seen two. I had been watching your compound for a few days now, looking for a weakness, as I didn't want to approach the front gate. However, after days and nights of countless hours of observing and thinking, I knew the front gate would be my only option.

Sighing, I carefully and silently climbed down the tree, my backpack light, only containing a few apples that I had picked, a canteen of water, a flask of whisky, ammo, a whetstone, a basic first aid kit with ibuprofen, Tylenol, and naproxen, and my wallet. I could feel my boot knives that I always wore around my hips gently press into my thighs, as well as the SIG Sauer P220 move against my breasts as I cautiously landed on my bare feet.

I stood there silently for a moment then started making my way to your compound. I stopped at the gate, looking at it, wondering how you were going to let me in. . . and whether you would or not. This would be the third compound I had found since fleeing Philadelphia, and the other two had turned me down. Why? Because I'm a 19 year old girl who looks like she doesn't know one end of a gun from another. My copper colored hair was long and matted, and I started once again praying to whatever Deity that may be up there to let me have shelter. This was my last hope. . .
 
As we were talking the red light flared itself again, prompting me to go over to the view slit on the door and slowly peeling it open and seeing another figure standing out there on the plate. Damn, two people in one day? I should be as lucky. Looking at my first guest I asked him, "You sure you didn't have anyone else with you? Because there's a woman now standing out there," pointing in her general direction and hefting up my rifle. I didn't want to shoot her, but I'm not alarmed. From the looks of it she had made it this entire way on foot, ragged, tired, and dirty she looked as though she was about to keel over from exhaustion, but I still wasn't going to open up the gate for any reason unless I could make sense of the situation.

To my first guest, whom I still did not know of by name, I said, "Take your horses and have them tied up over there," pointing off to the left of the gate towards one of the beams holding up a ramp to one of the wall ramparts and stand behind the gate." I wanted to ensure that he didn't try to make a run or anything until this could be sorted then I climbed the tower to begin calling instructions out to her. using the bullhorn I said for her to clear all weapons and to approach the gate slowly.
 
I heard the sound of the bullhorn, telling me to clear myself of all weaponry. Setting down my backpack, I heaved out my gun and my twelve boot knives, showing them to the general direction of the bullhorn and set them down and stepped away from them.

Please don't let him turn me away was my silent mantra as I showed my hands to show that I was now unarmed.
 
Walking sucks! I have always hated it, even before that was the only way to get around. When things first began to go to shit, it had been easy, mechanics always knew how to get a ride going. After a while though, getting fuel was an issue, and fewer and fewer salvageable rides were around. I had ridden a horse for a while, after damn near breaking my neck trying to figure out how to ride one, but my lack of preparedness had forced me to make the choice between walking and starving. Eventually, my belly and the will to survive won out. Now, here I was, tired, sore, hungry, dirty and to top it all off...walking.
I had never been what anyone would consider active. I was a mechanic, and that had it's activities, but mostly I exercised my brain. The calories I did burn were instantly replaced with emergency infusions of steak and beer. I was over weight, some would say lazy, and relished my nights alone in front of the TV. Well, I relished the TV part, but not the alone part. Growing up in the south I had always hunted, but as I got older, hunting changed from stalking prey to drinking beer, playing cards, and watching satellite TV at my uncle's cabin. That was the time I developed the one skill from my past that was still useful. All of those hours sitting at the range and the thousands of rounds of ammo that I had run through was paying dividends now. I was deadly out to 500 yds and scary out to 600. I would never have qualified as a sharpshooter, but I had proven over and over that killing a man sized target at 300 yds or better with a headshot was not impossible.
Unfortunately all that shooting skill was useless while I was trying sleep somewhere without shelter. I needed to find a place to stay soon, or mu luck was going to run out.
 
The stranger was now unarmed but I told her to take her knives and put them in her bag, also saying through the bullhorn that when she comes in she will have her bag searched as well as her person and if she had any way of identifying herself. I wasn't going to take advantage, but I also was not going to let up in my defenses just for her or anyone. Every person coming in was going to be searched and I doubt everyone will carry an ID card I at least expected that they would be honest with me and not hide behind a façade of a false name to hide from their pasts. Here, there was no need as I only would reject people whom were obvious troublemakers as I needed the company as well as the manpower.

Calling down from the tower I asked my first companion if he would unlock the gate and slide it open just enough to allow a person to fit through and to close the gate. I was putting a lot of trust into him at this point and I expected something to happen as I heard the metal scrapings as the lock was undone but my eyes were cast all around me, looking for any threats to materialize from the trees.
 
I could see a good sized tree laying across the road I was on. Figuring it was a good time to rest anyway, I thought that that might a good place to sit, and let my feet relax a bit. I was down to my last couple of pieces of fruit and I figured this would be as good a place to enjoy it as any.
God it's beautiful here. I had never been in this part of the country before and I had to say it was breathtaking. Dense wilderness and rolling terrain, a regular paradise on earth. In actuality, it kind of felt like home. Other than the huge spruce and redwood trees, the woods and hills reminded me of my birthplace in West Virginia. It had been a day or two since I had seen anything that would have resembled civilization and weeks since I had seen another person. The rural feel of this place was like going home, minus the savage nature of most of the survivors and of course the undead.
Thinking about all of the people that I had encountered, my mind flashes through all of the faces and forms of friends and family I will never see again. I think about the other survivors, the wariness in their eyes and later the wild savage look they got when they thought you might have something they could use.
There was one standout, a young woman, with light brown hair. I had seen her a few days ago when I was glassing an area to make sure it was safe. I had my rifle leaning on a fence post for a rest, and suddenly she appeared in my crosshairs. She was young, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt moving stealthily about 400 yds out. My initial reaction was to follow her, but as I increased the magnification of the scope to its max, I caught the glint of sunlight off of what seemed like a half dozen or more knives. I decided, that maybe I would leave things in the hands of fate. If we were to ever meet, it would be because fate intervened.
 
I put my knives in my bag and pulled out my wallet, holding it up to show I had my Pennsylvania state ID. I had picked it up out of force of habit and I walked through the gate, carrying my wallet in one hand and my backpack in the other, nearly collapsing with relief as I passed the gate and waited to see you.
"Just so you know, I think there's one other person out there. . . I traveled alone. . . He has a gun. . . been staking out the place," I gasp as I went for my canteen of water. "I'm Alli, from Philadelphia. . . I don't have anything to hide. . . ."
 
The rest felt good, but I needed to find shelter. I had always liked sleeping out under the stars as a kid, but the risk of getting eaten by zombies was a good bit lower. I was about 75 yds below the top of the hill and I could tell that the landscape would open up. I was hoping that this vantage point would let me see a place I could call home for the night. It didn't have to be much, just four solid walls would be good. A good night's sleep would make me feel so much better and would give me some much needed clarity so that I could make plans to find a place that I could hole up for a while. As I topped the hill I stopped dead in my track..."what the f...".
 
Walking was something I enjoyed. It gave me energy. Never used any other way of traveling.
Never really needed time. With a pet by my side and God in the sky.
For past 30 days I've been fasting. I gathered some useful plants on the way. The pet knew how to hunt for himself. He had his way and I had mine. I hardly used energy so I was okay.
I was a pilgrim. Over the time with my pacifistic beliefs I wasn't any use for a community. I didn't know how to fight, didn't have any mechanical skills, getting people together wasn't something I knew. People had medication so my herbs were not something they preferred. Over the time I started walking and trying to get my mental strength high. Meditating, using herbs and practicing abstinence. With my faith I reached this much but I sensed things was coming to a halt.

My vision became blurry and I started to lose feeling in my legs. All I saw was something red in front of me. Was this hell? My head started to pounce and every time it rang i started to feel I was leaving my body. At one moment I was looking at my self. This is actually the first time I saw my self since last months when I was by some lake. I looked rather good. I was expecting to see my self in worse shape. Facing the fact that I was probably dead i tried to see what else was around.
It seemed that what I taught was hell Is actually a fort of some sort. People were inside. There were three of them. Two men were inside. One seemed to have gasp on things, the second seemed strong and agile.
There was a man somewhere near me. My depth perception was bad so I can't say for sure where he was. He looked shocked. It could be that he saw my corpse, or the fort, or something third.
One thing missed my eye. It was this girl. She had red hair I think. Her look sparked probably the last thing I will never feel.

My corpse was in good hands. I hope they will give it a proper burial.
 
Quickly getting her inside and having the gate closed her bag was ordered to be cast aside and I kept my eyes out for this possible stalker. The trees were quiet, I could hear the birds in the distance but there might be a skilled sniper out there that I dared not take myself away from my post but I also needed to come down and inspect this new arrival, I could not ask the first man in inspect her as they might be together. I was suspicious of everyone but I did come down after a minute of continued looking and saw her holding up her wallet to which I took it and looked at the photo and tilted the plastic and saw the glimmer of the reflective lamination showing it was genuine.

"You've come a long way" I replied to her. Keeping the wallet I ask for her to turn around for a pat down. Though a woman I could not let any lapse in my security. As with the first man she would be frisked and her bag searched and if she was deemed to be cleared I would allow her to have her possessions back. I asked her to turn around, hands behind her head and legs shoulder width apart. I wasn't going to try and cop a feel, I wasn't like that but I had to be thorough in my search and quick knowing that there was a possible third person out there watching us.
 
I stood and waited for the pat down. Something that I was sadly used to, due to the frat party scene that seemed so long ago. . .
I felt the warm hands gently examine me, proving I had nothing more to hide, but not trying to cop a feel, and I felt relieved.
"Philly was overrun horribly. I barely made it out," I said quietly. "I've been wandering alone all this time. . . Thank you, for not shooting me onsight. Another compound I had found nearly did. I'm sorry, I don't have much to trade with, only .38 and a few apples, plus there's a flask of some whiskey. I may not look like much, but I'm decent in a fight and can easily tend to wounds."
I was babbling, I was so nervous. "The other guy that's out there is decent with a weapon, I don't know him. I saw him shooting deer for meat a few weeks back. Sniper rifle, please be careful."
The search completed, I sank down to the floor again. Grabbing my flask, I took a swig. My nerves needed it.
 
I took cover behind a large granite boulder that was in the tree line at the top of the hill. I eased my rifle from my shoulder and slid my rucksack down y back and around my body so it rested between my feet. I opened my pack slowly and removed the sun shade for my scope and slowly threaded it onto the front of my optics. The sun was fairly high, but I didn't want to risk a reflecting flash giving away my position. I took a knee on the ground and leaned against the boulder to steady myself. Slowly I raised mr AR10 to my sholder and rested the forarm on a little shelf in the rock that had been carved out by hundreds of years of wind and rain. As I settled into a firing position I began to survey the scene.
There was a high red wall surrounding a good sized farm. What appeared to be srveral strands of razor or barbed wired in rows around the outside perimeter of the wall. There was a steel gate at the front of the wall that the road I was on led to. People, Jesus, real live people. I saw a man with his hands on the body of a young red haired woman just inside the gate. She looked desheveled, and weary but not in distress. I am not sure what wa going on, but it appeared she was being searched. I tightened my grip on the lower receiver of my weapon and rested my thumb on the safety. Even in these times, I won't stand for anyone assaulting another. I am no hero, but at just a little over 550yds out, I could end this fuckers reign of terror. There was another man off to the right of the young woman and her captor. He was tall, and strong, obviously former military. "Great" I said to myself, "These guys are trained and organized." That could be great, or the worst. If they are part of your team it is good to be with them. Thay are strong, and trained, and used to things getting rough. If they are adversaries, that are fearsome, for the same reasons.
The man doing the searching was thorough but not invasive. I cursed myself at the fleeting pangs of jealousy I had of him being ale to freely roam her young lithe body. She didn't seem to be in distress, so I let the tension go out of my trigger finger and decided to just watch things unfold for a bit. I am not quite ready to give up my position, so for now I will serve as an overwatch.
 
"Better take it easy on that," I said, "I have some more but I can't make that kind of stuff" as she took a swig. Turning to the others I said, "Let's get everything put away, put the horses in the barn and have them unsaddled and get you guys some new clothes and a room." It wasn't much, I could give each new person a single 8 x8 room on the second floor of my cabin, the place had basic furniture up there, a twin size bed, a small dresser and that was it, but when you're on the run for so long, it was like a Presidential Suite. I checked the perimeter one last time, there was still the nagging sensation that there was someone still out there but I wasn't going to go out looking and calling out for that person to come out was just inviting a bullet to the face. If that person was suspicious and observing us perhaps some kind words and gestures to those already inside my place would be enough of an enticement to have them break cover and come forth and join the party.

"I have enough food for everyone" I said, "but I wont tolerate freeloaders," turning to the woman, "You said you can take care of wounds, good, but we can train you for other things as well." turning to the men, "I also need help to fix some of the things on this property and I can promise some food, hot food for dinner. I have a fresh wild turkey."
 
I nodded. "Thank you," I said gratefully. "I can also hunt and I cook." Nodding to the other man, obviously military, I helped him lead his horses to the stable and then I was led to my room.

Looking around, I noticed that it was small, basic, almost like a military barracks or a dorm room, furnishings provided. Sighing, I set down my bag softly, I walked out of my quarters and caught the guy who was obviously running the operation. "Excuse me, where are the bathrooms?" I asked quietly.
 
Through my scope I watched as the man I had pegged as the leader finished his search of the women. They talked a bit and then moved further into the compound and led the horses into the barn to the side of the cabin. After a short while, the group moved inside the what I could only assume was the home of the leader.
That had been an hour or so ago and there hadn't been any movement that I could see within the confines of the wall. At this range, I hadn't been able to hear any of the conversation, but from the relaxed manner with which the group moved together form building to building it appeared friendly. I wonder what is going on in there? Is there food, water, a shower, a place to sleep? More likely it was a house of horrors. In the time since the undead had first started appearing, starvation and the sense of doom that swept through the country caused people to start doing things to one another; strange things, vile things.
The leader of the group had looked normal enough by today's standards, but that left a lot of leeway. 'Normal' was a relative term these days.
Still, I hadn't eaten anything of substance in days, and the thought of being behind a wall safe and secure made it almost worth the risk. "Maybe I could just go down there and see what the deal is" I think almost out loud. The hunger was beginning to become more intense to the point of being almost painful. "Fuck it!" I whisper to no one. I lay my rifle against the rock and pull the Kimber 1911 from my holster. I check the chamber to make sure I am loaded, then drop the magazine to count how many rounds I have. Dammit, there is only 6 left. 'Well', I think,' may get enough distance between them and me to make a decent stand. There were only three of them.'
I holster the sidearm, pick up my ruck and my rifle, and start the slow journey toward the front gate. "God I hope I'm not fucking up." I whisper to no one.
 
"Bathroom is the sky blue painted door directly at the end of the hall," I pointed that way. All of the other doors were white painted oak, thick and heavy, they would be useful barricades should the zombies breach this far, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that. There were two bathrooms here, the indoor bathroom with a tub, sink, and toilet that had a natural septic tank that ran outside. The dirty water would be cleaned using good bacteria and natural filters before being put back into the soil and then there was the old outhouse to be used should plumbing breakdown, but thus far I had not had the need to use it yet.

The horses were put up and unsaddled. They were tired, some oats and water and a good night's worth of rest would be able to put the spunk back in them.
 
"Thank you," I said.

Returning to my room, I grabbed the essential things I would need for my shower- clothes, a towel, shampoo, body wash.

Washing in the shower was one of the best experiences of my life. I hadn't had a shower since I left Philadelphia, unless you count jumping into a river to get most of the dirt off. Noticing the numerous old scrapes and cuts on my legs, abdomen, and arms, I remembered all the days and nights of walking, fighting, scraping to survive. My knives had done me well, as well as the sparring I had taken up in college. I scrubbed twice and washed my hair three times. I needed to cut it, long hair was a liability nowadays.

I returned to my room, wearing jean shorts and a cropped shirt, the closest things I could find that would fit me, and dropped off the shower stuff. I grabbed my wallet, yet another gift from my father, and opened it up to look at a photo of my family- my dad, my grandparents, my future in-laws, myself, and my fiance.

Closing it, I shook my head clear of the tears threatening to overspill, and went out to go check on the horses, maybe to groom them.

I saw the owner of the place there, feeding them. The poor animals were worn out and thin, and their hair was matted horribly. I picked up a brush and started grooming them, soothing them, talking to them. . .
 
It took me no time to reach the entrance of the fortress. The wall was massive. It had to be at least 10ft. tall and God knows how thick. There were guard towers around the perimeter, but as he glassed them they appeared to be unmanned.
"How would you know if anyone was here if there are no guards watching?", I thought. It seemed strange to me that someone would have a fortress like this built for protection, when any Tom, Dick, or Harry could just walk right up to the gate.
"Hello!", I shout.
"Hello, is anyone around?"
 
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