Outnumbered (Book 6) Read Online Free Page A

family to start taking responsibility for themselves. They'd have to develop their own skills to trade for the meat we'd furnish.
    Our three kids played with several others near their age while Kira stirred the dirty clothes submerged in water and lye soap. We'd taken to wearing clothes much longer, often weeks to a month or more. The materials had to last as long as possible and we'd learned harsh washing methods damaged the cloth faster than wearing the articles. Only when they became too odorous or stiff from sweat or external dirt did we change to clean garments. We didn't like it, but that was one of the minor changes forced on us by the damn'd zombie invasion.
    After getting Kira set up, I milked three Jersey cows, fed them, a bull, and four horses we'd assumed responsible for.
    Exiting the horse barn door, I came belly to belly with Jesse Pitchford as he entered. We stopped abruptly an inch short of slamming into each other.  Solemnly I said, "Good morning, Jesse."
    He glared at me, stepped aside, squeezed past me, and stomped into the building without a word. I smiled slightly. He was still pissed off about his whiskey operation being destroyed. After I few seconds of soul searching, I decided I could live with that.
    Toward our cabin, I saw clothes hung on one of the community clotheslines. The fire under the kettle was out, and the area was clear of buckets and our plastic clothes baskets. The sun had been peeking through clouds when I entered the barn; now droplets of rain began to fall. Kira had bucketed most of the water from the kettle, so I dumped it over on its side to drain it.
     
    The ground was still too wet to plow the next day, so I spent the morning making minor repairs to the cabin and doing other chores that had popped up during the winter.
    While working at the cabin, I heard a disturbance from behind the horse barn and near the river. Someone yelled, "Oh my God, help, get Marcie! Hurry, boy!"
    I dropped my tools and ran past the corner of the cabin. Sarah, my seven-year-old granddaughter, ran toward me while Tom Jr. ran flat out toward Marcie's cabin.
    Sarah grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the barn. "Uncle Shane's hurt bad, Grandpa. Hurry... he's terribly bloody."
    We cleared the end of the barn and I saw Shane's blood covered body on the ground; his clothes were torn and soaked with blood. The horse he'd ridden stood twenty feet away. I looked across the river and along the ridge but didn't see the pack horse he'd led when he left. I knelt beside Shane as Marcie, Carmen and several others arrived. The nurses nudged me away so they could work. It was difficult to recognize my friend even though I knew him so well. I quickly surmised he'd been attacked by a bear; no other animal could have inflicted the massive damage done to his body. Shane's scalp was lacerated and partly torn from his skull, his face had deep cuts and tears, his right arm was mangled from the shoulder down and his left leg had a compound fracture below the knee. I couldn't see other substantial damage, but his bloody clothing was ripped all the way down his torso. I barely recognized the sound of the emergency bell as someone rang it to alert everyone of the tragedy.
    A loud, high pitched scream erupted behind me. I spun around as Vivian ran down the slight grade from the barn. I stepped in front of her and caught her in my arms and hugged her tight. Verlie passed us to join the other nurses. From the yammering crowd of people surrounding us, I assumed all the survivors had gathered.
    Vivian stared as she sobbed and collapsed against me, "My God, what happened?"
    "I can't say for sure, but it looks like a bear attacked him." Morgan appeared with an old, green Army canvas stretcher.
    Shane's children gathered around Vivian and took control of her. Kira and our kids were mingled in with Shane's family. I turned toward the nurses as Carmen motioned to me; she needed men to put Shane on the stretcher and carry him to Doc's old