The wall for the City of Hope was two miles from the east wall of the Base Hope, with a very large train yard between them. If Bruce hadn’t driven out there, he never would’ve believed how fast they were working. Five miles of wall were put up in a day and after eleven days, the crews got up to ten miles in a single day. The thirty foot concrete barriers weren’t the ones Bruce designed, Paul had made upgrades. Bruce’s design had been a Y-shaped barrier. Paul’s was a Y and a T, combined with a five foot bulge at the base joining the stem, and Paul’s were taller. Wondering just how in the fuck Paul was accomplishing that task, Bruce dove into the computer.

  It seemed when Paul had found out about the four hundred mile long wall Bruce wanted to build in Mexico, he’d expanded the yard where they were pouring wall sections. The concrete yard was four miles outside the east gate, now inside the wall of the City of Hope, and the area where the barriers were poured covered two hundred acres. In an assembly line fashion and with an army of workers, two miles were put out each day. Those poured days ago were left to cure then loaded up and moved further south to a huge field to be arranged like giant dominos.

  Then, wondering where in the hell Paul was getting the cement because there were huge companies close but they didn’t have that much, Bruce dove on the computer again and saw Paul had the Praetorian Guard clear the area at a huge plant in Arkansas. Then he’d built a wall around the plant and quarry, making it an outpost. Then using the power from two nearby hydro dams, after bringing them online and cutting all ties to anywhere but the plant, Paul had brought the plant online. In Alabama, Paul had done the same to another plant before bringing it online and turning it into an outpost also. Now, concrete was being delivered by rail in massive quantities.

  City of Hope’s walls were done in just forty-four days, enclosing over three thousand square miles. Then, those that Paul had pulled from Texas went back to finish the buildings inside Fort Hood which had only taken another month since the team that had been left kept working away.

  Like they had done at Fort Hood, Gene then gathered Beta and Omega, without Bruce of course, and members of the Praetorian Guard, thirty thousand total. They’d formed a line inside the west wall of the City of Hope with ten feet between each member and walked east to clear the inside of the wall of blues. Forty miles away from the base they’d started finding blues that had been trapped inside when the wall was finished. With UAVs overhead, those on the ground knew when blues were close and none were lost. There were a few close calls with blues, but the main danger turned out to come from snakes. Nineteen people were bitten by snakes. Almost nine thousand blues were killed inside the walls and the bodies then removed, along with several hundred snakes. Then two days later, they’d done it again with dog teams and didn’t find any, blues but another three were bitten by snakes and another was attacked by an alligator. Luckily, the gator was shot fast before pulling the trooper into deeper water.

  Thanks to the hospitals, none of the snake bites or gator attacks had any problems and were back at work within a week.

  One thing Bruce did look into was wildlife, and the blues were proving to be the worst blight ever. They ate everything from insects to elephants. If the animal couldn’t reach water, blues would overwhelm it.

  When the second sweep to clear the inside was underway, Paul had already started on the living areas of the City of Hope. Using the same layout as Base Hope and building a community one mile square, Paul changed the apartments from six stories in Base Hope to ten stories in City of Hope. This was where Bruce had learned generators were pulled in and turned on, even in Base Hope. They had outgrown all the power, even with routing other hydro stations here.

  The smallest generator was 3MW and the largest was 10MW that Bruce could find logged in the computer. He didn’t want to use fuel for power, but there wasn’t a choice.

  Continuing his search of current projects, Bruce found one but not who had started it, but suspected it was Mike. It was labeled Mosquito Control and it had a hundred people assigned. Digging deeper, he saw there were nearly ten thousand traps out and found a diagram that Mike had shown him once. It was a tire cut in half with a water spigot attached. Water was poured in and the mosquitos laid their eggs in the water. You would get a coffee can with cloth over it and drain the water through the cloth. The cloth would catch the eggs and then you would pour the water back in the tire, since mosquitos left a scent when they laid eggs and the water would attract more. Another positive thing was the traps were also killing the no-see-ums. Tiny flies that bite the shit out of you.

  The operation had been going on since last year and Bruce freaked out after finding pictures of some of the hauls of mosquito eggs and larvae. The group didn’t drain them all every day but made rounds up to twenty miles outside the walls of the base. Each trap was emptied once every ten days, and the record haul for one day was thirty-four and a half pounds of larvae and eggs. Bruce had known the mosquitos hadn’t been as bad and just thought they had died off. The group’s last line of traps for mosquitoes were the CO2 traps, but there were only a few hundred of these since they used propane and electricity.

  He knew in the old world that one group could’ve never existed. Just using basic amounts of pay and for the supplies, the group would’ve cost two hundred thousand dollars a week to keep running. Hell, he would’ve rather paid for that than to send his money around the globe. The proof that the Mosquito Control group worked was very evident. If that wasn’t enough, they also laid traps out for other biting insects, and one group they were controlling very well in the area were the horseflies and those like it. Bruce hated those damn things. To him, they hurt worse than a wasp sting. He had seen pictures of the traps before on farms and knew they were called Malaise traps, but he hadn’t known what they were. If he had known such a thing existed, he would’ve filled the two-hundred-acre farm with them.

  Like the mosquito traps, each of the horsefly traps were checked once a week and emptied. There were three types of traps, and Bruce had only seen the Malaise trap before, but all three types worked. Many traps were around the livestock, but there were over two thousand out. There were pictures and numbers to back up the traps, and some traps were taking in over a thousand horse, deer, and yellow flies a week (They were all the same to Bruce). The single daily record in the collection was one hundred and eleven pounds of horseflies. When he finished going over all that, Bruce felt everyone in the Mosquito Control should get a blow job.

  The levels the others were taking care of business put his mind at ease, but he still continued going through each member of the command group area and kept being amazed. They were thinking very outside the box to solve problems.

  Not only did Bruce play with the kids, he made rounds visiting the different schools just to see those he was fighting for. He also did other projects like a Japanese garden behind the new shop. He and Buffy rebuilt his truck she’d wrecked. Then there was the time spent with Angela and Stephanie.

  To Bruce’s great horror, two golf courses had been put inside the walls of Base Hope. He knew for a fucking fact he’d never been asked about that. In Hope, each block or square mile had recreation centers and areas, and there were six blocks now that housed the half a million in Base Hope and the others in the City of Hope, with the rest of the survivors in the other outlying bases in Missouri, Alabama, and Fort Hood. Outside, these blocks held tennis courts, some basketball courts, baseball fields, football fields, soccer fields, paintball fields, and other outdoor activities. One that Bruce loved was the variety of putt-putt courses. Everyone in the family knew Bruce hated golf but loved putt-putt. There were six recreation areas around the town and each one held a different putt-putt course and whoever had built them, Bruce wanted to give them a medal. They were all interactive and not just putting greens. When he’d designed the living area, he’d just listed ‘rec area’ and ‘put things for people to do’. Paul and his design group had taken that to heart and run with it.

  Another thing Bruce loved, there were six twenty-lane bowling alleys. One had to make reservations a week in advance to play during the evenings. There were even hair salons that were run around the clock and other things from the old world to make life, not easier but enjoyable.

  But to Bruce’s horror, it turned out Angela and Stephanie both loved to play golf. Bruce had never played in his life and never had the intention of playing. He also never knew either of them even liked golf, despite knowing Stephanie as long as he had. Two weeks ago, they had told Bruce they were going to play and scheduled a tee time. At the time, Bruce didn’t give a shit. He had just gathered up some vodka to make drinks. His plan was to get drunk driving the girls around on the golf cart as they played.

  Oh, Angela and Stephanie weren’t having any of that. They’d made reservations at the driving range beside the golf course they were playing at so Bruce could practice. Behind Bruce, Bonnie, Ted, and Carl just snickered. Promptly turning around, Bruce had informed them they were playing as well and that’d shut them up. Well, Bruce found something he wasn’t good at no matter how hard he tried. He came in one hundred and four over par and had broken two clubs when he beat the ground and lost another when he had tossed it in a water hazard because the club wasn’t sending the ball where he was aiming.

  There was a famous golf pro in Base Hope who had been on the PGA tour. Well, that’s what everyone who played golf had told Bruce because he damn sure didn’t know him. The golf pro had even come out to help Bruce get ready before the game. There were others in Hope who, before the Fall, had been famous. There were two very popular actors and three actresses, but they were just workers now. One of the actresses was a whiny bitch, but she did her work. Now that breathing room had been gained, groups and clubs were being formed to make shows and there had even been a movie made. All the actors and actresses were in it and Bruce had gone along with the family to one of the movie theaters, but it was a chick flick and he’d fallen asleep.

  There were nearly a dozen famous sports stars, eight famous singers, and other celebrities from the old world but now, they were just survivors. They all had jobs to do and what they did in their own time was their business, but they received no special treatment.

  Hearing the door open, Bruce spun around in his chair to see Mindy and David walk in holding hands. “Hey, guys,” Bruce said holding out his arms, and Mindy ran over and leapt onto his lap. The only other daughters who wanted more lap time or hugs were Emily and Sherry. Bruce didn’t mind as he hugged her tight. “You seem happy,” he said looking at David as Mindy lifted her head off his chest, looking at Bruce with a huge grin.

  “We just got back from town, Dad. I’m pregnant,” she said, practically vibrating. Bruce hugged her tight and pushed off so his chair rolled over to David. Wrapping an arm around David, Bruce pulled him into the hug. There was no doubt, David and Mindy loved each other. They were never far apart and they didn’t even argue, which seemed weird to Bruce but it worked for them.

  “Mindy wanted to tell you first before we tell the others,” David said as Bruce let him go.

  “Well, I’m honored,” Bruce replied. They talked for a bit then the two left to share the great news.

  “We will save this world,” Bruce mumbled as he turned around and continued to look at the computer.

  Chapter Three

  It was 0600 when Bruce walked in the command bunker the next morning with Angela and Stephanie for his first meeting in over three months. Bruce saw everyone already there and breakfast was being served. The other kids were being escorted to the center for breakfast by their security detail and once again, Bruce liked his security detail because he had played hard with the kids yesterday afternoon and knew zombies would occupy their bodies when they awoke.

  He smiled as he headed to the end of the table and his step faltered seeing Dani and Buffy standing beside his chair. There was a bowl of water and plastic bottles at his spot. Dani was holding an apron and Buffy was standing beside a roll-around sink. “Guys, I do my own hair with a razor every other day,” he told them, just in case they forgot.

  “Duh,” Dani sang out, then patted his chair. “Sit,” she told him, but Bruce didn’t move.

  “What is all this?” he asked, motioning toward the supplies. With soft eyes, Dani and Buffy both put on the most adorable smiles and Bruce immediately got suspicious.

  “Your goatee is white. It’s not even gray, so we’re dyeing it,” Dani informed him because there clearly was no “ask” involved.

  “It’s on my face and I’m fine with it,” Bruce replied and the smiles fell off and Bruce was tempted to just go back to bed.

  “You’re our daddy and if we don’t want to look at your white goatee then you have to sit down,” Dani snapped, then Buffy joined in.

  “We keep our hair long because you like it that way, so park your behind,” Buffy barked.

  For a second, Bruce was a little spellbound because for a brief instant, teenage logic made sense and for some reason he couldn’t explain, that thought terrified him. Pushing the thought out before it bred, Bruce just stared at the two and saw both take breaths to continue and he was not in the mood for teenage girl logic this early in the morning. “Fine,” Bruce moaned, heading for his chair and dropped down.

  As Dani put the apron on him, Bruce saw some of the others in the command group exchanging things. Turning, he saw Nancy rolling her eyes at Mike. “Fine, you win,” Nancy moaned and Mike just had a shit-eating grin.

  Then it hit Bruce, there had been bets placed on this. Not liking the fact the others were betting but having no intention of pissing off teen girls who were using Holy Pills, Bruce just leaned back in the chair as the two went to work. “Told you he wouldn’t even yell,” Stephanie said sitting down, pulling out her laptop and notepads.

  Almost glaring at Bruce, “Would you have done that for us?” Angela asked.

  “If you had asked me, I would’ve done it myself or made an appointment to have it done in town,” Bruce responded, and that took the grumpy face off Angela. Taking a breath to comment, Bruce stopped when Stephanie slapped the table hard, scaring the shit out of everyone.

  “Say anything about your age and us being ashamed, we go the fuck outside, bitch,” Stephanie growled. What scared the shit out of Bruce the most was that was exactly what he was about to say. The others around the table snickered as Bruce just forced a grin.

  Turning to look at Dani, “Don’t dye it some weird ass color,” he told her.

  Rolling her eyes as she put petroleum jelly on his lips and around the edges of the goatee so they wouldn’t dye the skin, “We are dyeing it dark brown like it used to be before the world turned to shit,” Dani told him.

  As the pair worked, Bruce had to admit they were pretty damn good, watching Buffy mix up the dye. “You two have been doing shifts at one of the salons?” Bruce asked.

  “Yep,” they both sang out.

  Dani pulled on plastic gloves and grabbed a small brush. “We wanted to learn how to do it and not screw it up so when we do it next time, you couldn’t use that for an excuse,” she told him.

  “Why didn’t you just ask?” Bruce wondered out loud. Not able to move his head because they were coating his goatee, he cut his eyes to Angela and Stephanie. “Or either of you could’ve asked.”

  It was Buffy who answered with a smile as she worked. “Because you would’ve said ‘okay’ and would’ve had every intention of doing it but would’ve forgotten and when we would’ve asked again, you would’ve replied, ‘I’m going to’. This way, we just take you out of the equation and everyone is happy.”

  About to object to that, Bruce wisely remained silent as Millie came in carrying a tray. When she set it down in front of him, Bruce noticed Millie had on an apron and a long wooden spoon was sticking out of one pocket. “Thank you, Millie,” Bruce said and would’ve smiled, but Dani and Buffy were kneading the dye into his goatee.

  “You be learnin’, Bruce,” Millie told him, walking around behind him and kissed him on the top of his shaved head.

  “We can start,” Bruce said, shifting his eyes to the table. Paul started first, going over the city projects and the schedule. Then he went over the Alabama and Missouri forts and everyone now housed in all forts. Last, he reported Fort Hood was done and gates had been put in to enclose two hundred and sixty square miles. Like had been done here, Beta and Gamma formed a long line of troops with MRAPs behind them and walked across the entire base. About half the arms and vehicles were there and the vehicles that weren’t, were at the border when the government had closed it at the start of the outbreak.

  Since that base was damn near empty because one of Bruce’s last orders was not to move survivors there, “How many survivors do you want to move there?” Paul asked as Dani and Buffy stepped back and turned on a timer.

  “None yet,” Bruce answered, shocking Paul. “That will be our training center for the four-week advanced course and the next four-week course for the fighting units and scavengers. The two-week basic course we will keep inside the walled cities. The one here needs to be moved to the city and off the base. The survivors who move there will be the ones who run it and will rotate out.”

  Nodding, Paul made notes as Conner went next. “Bruce, we are outpacing production on 7.62 magic bullets. Our saving grace has been you pulled everyone out of the field and just had them clearing around forts. On our push through the south, we drained our stockpile,” Conner said and was glad to see Bruce was a little shocked. “Bruce, every rig has at least one minigun but as you know, many have two or three and there were twelve hundred in each regiment when they were out. Each Blackhawk has two and that adds up to over four thousand miniguns with each shooting three to four thousand rounds, depending on the setting. And we use those a lot. I’m not even going to mention the belt fed weapons, not to mention the air wings with the converted planes. God’s Mower can dump a million rounds in half an hour and now we have more.”

 

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