Stone Mountain High School
School buses, abandoned cars and piles of scrap metal had been dragged across the main entrances, creating crude barricades that funneled anyone approaching into narrow gaps watched by armed guards.
Sheets of plywood covered most of the ground-floor windows.
Others had simply been nailed shut with desks and lockers.
Armed men patrolled the walkways between the buildings, rifles slung over their shoulders.
Laughter drifted from one of the classrooms.
A bottle shattered somewhere inside the school.
Nobody paid it any attention.
The world had ended months ago.
Rules had ended with it.
The sound of an engine echoed faintly through the parking lot.
An old pickup truck rolled through the front entrance before coming to a stop near the main building.
The doors opened.
Four men climbed out.
Their clothes were dirty, streaked with sweat and dried blood.
One of them slammed the truck door hard enough to make it rattle.
"Damn it!"
Another rubbed his shoulder where he'd thrown himself to the ground during the firefight.
"I told you we should've shot the bitch the moment we saw her."
"You had your chance," another snapped.
"Until that damn train showed up."
The first man glared at him.
"Who would have thought a train full of soldiers would pass exactly at that time."
Neither had the others.
That thought alone was enough to sour everyone's mood.
They pushed through the front doors of the school.
Inside, the entrance hall had long since stopped looking like a school.
Stacks of looted supplies lined the walls.
Boxes of canned food sat beside cases of bottled water.
Weapons leaned against a nearby table.
Several frightened teenage boys carried crates from one classroom to another under the watchful eyes of armed guards.
No one spoke to the four men as they passed.
Everyone knew from the expressions on their faces that something had gone wrong.
Then one of the guards looked up.
"You find 'em?"
The man at the front let out a humorless laugh.
"We found something."
"What?"
He shook his head.
"Where's Jake?"
Another guard looked up from his rifle and spoke.
"In the principal's office."
He jerked a thumb toward the second floor.
"Been there most of the afternoon."
The man nodded.
"I've got something important to tell him."
"Better not be any bad news. You know how that bastard reacts."
Without another word, the four continued deeper into the school.
The hallways barely resembled a place of learning anymore.
Classroom doors stood open, revealing piles of looted supplies stacked against the walls.
The smell of cigarette smoke mixed with stale alcohol drifted through the corridors.
In one classroom, several men lounged in salvaged chairs, passing around bottles while arguing over a card game.
Laughter erupted from another room where a TV, powered by a humming generator somewhere outside, displayed a video game connected to a console scavenged from a nearby house.
For a few moments, it almost looked like an ordinary afternoon.
Until they passed the next hallway.
Several women stood over plastic tubs, washing clothes by hand before hanging them from improvised clotheslines stretched between lockers.
An armed bandit leaned against the wall nearby, rifle resting across his chest as he watched them in silence.
Farther down the corridor, another group worked over large cooking pots set atop propane burners, preparing the evening meal under the constant supervision of two more armed men.
Nobody spoke unless spoken to.
Nobody looked up for more than a second.
The four men continued walking.
None of it seemed unusual to them anymore.
It had simply become the way things were.
At the end of the hallway, a staircase led to the second floor.
Without slowing their pace, they started climbing toward the principal's office.
The four men climbed the stairs and stopped outside the principal's office.
One of them knocked twice.
"Yeah?"
The voice from inside was impatient.
They pushed the door open.
The office had long since ceased to belong to a principal.
A map of the surrounding area had been pinned to one wall, marked with circles and handwritten notes. An open bottle of whiskey rested on the desk alongside a half-empty ashtray.
Jake looked up from the map.
His expression immediately darkened.
"Where's Jolene?"
The room fell silent.
"...We lost her," one of the men answered.
Jake's eyes narrowed.
For several long moments, he didn't say a word.
Then he slowly leaned back in his chair.
"Start talking."
The patrol leader took a breath.
"We caught up with Jolene."
Jake's jaw tightened.
"But before we could bring it back..."
"There was a train."
Jake snorted.
"A train?"
"Yeah."
The man nodded.
"It stopped and soldiers got off."
Jake frowned.
"What kind of soldiers?"
"They wore camouflage, military gear, M4s, machine guns..."
"And they had Humvees loaded on flatcars."
The room became noticeably quieter.
Jake's eyes searched the man's face.
"You serious?"
The patrol leader nodded.
"They dropped three of our boys before we could react."
"We barely got out."
Jake stood so suddenly his chair scraped loudly across the floor.
"And you let that bitch get away?"
"There wasn't—"
Before the man could finish, Jake crossed the room and slammed a fist into his face.
The bandit stumbled backward into the wall.
"You had one damn job!"
Blood dripped from the man's split lip.
None of the others moved.
None of them dared.
Jake paced across the office, breathing heavily.
"Did they follow you?"
"No."
"Do they know of the school?"
"I... I don't think so."
"You don't think?"
Jake turned sharply.
"I need better than 'I don't think'!"
"They stopped to help the woman. They never came after us."
Jake stared at him for several seconds.
Then he looked toward the map hanging on the wall.
"So..."
He muttered more to himself than anyone else.
"Some of the military's still around."
Nobody answered.
Finally, another voice spoke.
Gary.
"They'll probably come looking."
Jake looked at him.
"You think?"
Gary nodded.
"If that woman talked..."
"They know we're here."
Silence settled over the office.
Jake walked back to the map.
He didn't like surprises.
After several moments, he spoke.
"Double the guards. I want lookouts on every approach to the school."
He pointed toward one of the men.
"Get everyone who's out scavenging back here before dark."
Then he looked at Gary.
"You. Take two men."
"I want eyes on that rail yard. That's the most likely place where they could be. And stay hidden. I don't care if you spend all night watching. I want to know who those soldiers are."
Gary gave a single nod.
"You got it."
Jake's gaze drifted back to the map.
His jaw remained clenched.
"They killed three of mine."
His voice was low.
Cold.
"They've got something I want."
He looked around the room.
"And nobody....takes from me."
••••••
Captain Harper led the way across the platform, Andrew falling into step beside him.
Behind them, the station buzzed with activity.
Engineers and mechanics were already removing the heavy chains securing the Humvees and cargo trucks to the flatcars, while soldiers directed the unloading with practiced efficiency.
Crates of ammunition, fuel drums and medical supplies were carried toward nearby warehouses as the platoon dispersed to their assigned tasks.
Andrew watched the organized activity for a moment before looking at Harper.
"How have things been since we last spoke?"
Harper nodded.
"Steady. We've kept the rail line open as far as our patrols can safely reach."
He gestured toward the tracks stretching north.
"Every morning we send teams ahead to clear walkers off the rails and inspect for damage."
Andrew nodded approvingly.
"Any problems?"
"The usual."
Harper shrugged.
"Walkers, abandoned vehicles, fallen trees. Nothing we couldn't handle."
As they continued walking, the station gradually gave way to the settlement itself.
Rows of shipping containers had been arranged into neat streets, forming a small neighborhood within Terminus.
Wooden porches had been added to some, while others had flower pots or small vegetable gardens outside.
People moved through the streets carrying lumber, buckets of water and toolboxes.
Slowly but surely, life was returning.
Andrew's gaze drifted toward a group gathered near one of the container homes.
Mary stood speaking with several residents.
Beside her, one of her sons noticed Andrew almost immediately.
He raised a hand.
Mary turned, following her son's gaze.
A warm smile crossed her face as she waved as well.
Andrew smiled back and returned the gesture.
He then watched as several children chased one another between the rows of containers before disappearing around a corner.
They continued walking.
"What about survivors?"
Harper answered without hesitation.
"We've come across quite a few."
Andrew looked at him.
"How'd they react?"
"A lot of them asked to come back with us. They'd been hiding in houses, warehouses, office buildings..."
He paused.
"Some hadn't seen another living person in weeks."
Andrew nodded quietly.
"And the others?"
Harper smiled faintly.
"They politely told us they'd rather keep their distance. We couldn't force them, but they had children's with them, so we offered them enough supplies to least them a good while. "
Andrew seemed satisfied with the answer.
"Good. Nobody should be forced to come here."
Harper nodded in agreement.
"They know the gates are open if they need them."
After a few more steps Andrew asked another question.
"Anything unusual during your patrols?"
Harper thought for a moment before shaking his head.
"No. Our scouts have mainly focused on the rail corridor and the larger walker concentrations in Macon. If a road's blocked or a district's overrun, we mark it on the maps. When we find survivors trapped in buildings, we get them out."
Andrew looked at him
" What about organized hostiles?"
Harper shook his head once more.
"Nothing."
Andrew was silent for several moments.
Then he sighed.
"We ran into something on the way here."
Harper immediately noticed the change in his tone.
"What happened?"
"The train was flagged down by a woman. Jolene, she was carrying her daughter. They were being chased by a group of armed men. Seven in total."
Andrew briefly glanced toward the train where Jolene and her daughter were being escorted toward the settlement's clinic.
Harper's expression grew more serious.
Andrew continued.
"I decided to stop the train and assess the situation. The group become agitated and opened fire. We returned fire with three of them being killed, and the remaining four escaping into the woods."
Harper remained silent, allowing Andrew to continue.
"From what we've been told, Jolene used to be with them. Most of them were employees at the Save-Lots store, but their numbers grew with more people joining them. They've taken over Stone Mountain High School."
Andrew's voice hardened.
"Jolene told us that they raid survivor communities, extort supplies and murder anyone who gets in their way."
He paused.
"And they keep people prisoner."
Harper frowned.
"Prisoner?"
Andrew nodded.
"From what Jolene told us.. The majority of the men were executed after they took the school. The women are being kept alive, with them being subjected to far worse."
For several moments Harper said nothing.
Finally he muttered,
"Christ..."
They reached the headquarters building.
Inside, a large map covered one wall.
Harper stepped over to it and picked up a grease pencil.
"This is Terminus."
He marked the settlement before tracing the railway north.
"Our patrols have secured this corridor."
Several blue markings appeared along the tracks.
He then circled several areas farther east and south.
"These are the hot zones. The largest walker concentrations we've identified."
Andrew studied each marking carefully.
Harper then moved the pencil farther north.
"And this..."
He tapped a point near Macon.
"...is Stone Mountain High School."
Andrew's eyes remained fixed on the map.
"I presume that the patrols haven't been this close."
Harper shook his head.
"No. We've had no reason to."
Andrew folded his arms.
"That explains why they've stayed off our radar."
He looked back at Harper.
"The mission's changed. We're still dealing with the walkers in Macon. But before we do that..."
He tapped the location of the school.
"We need to deal with this place."
Andrew looked around the room at the officers gathered nearby.
"We're not walking into an unknown position. I want to confirm their numbers. We need to know their patrol routes, their observation posts, their equipment. Everything."
He let his gaze sweep across the map one last time.
"Once we have that...We'll decide on how to proceed. My squad and I will handle it."
One of the officers exchanged a glance with another.
"Lieutenant," Harper began carefully, "there's no shortage of capable scouts here. You don't have to—"
"I know."
Andrew met his gaze.
"But I'm the one making the decisions after we gather the intelligence."
He looked back at the map.
"I want to see the place with my own eyes. Jolene gave us a general picture. But we need more information."
Harper considered his words before giving a slow nod.
"Fair enough."
Andrew traced the route from Terminus toward the high school.
"We'll avoid the main roads whenever possible."
"If we're lucky, we'll identify their observation posts before they identify us."
"And if unlucky?"
Andrew looked up.
"Then we'll adapt."
He looked toward Harper again.
"I'll need one of your reconnaissance teams."
Harper walked over to a clipboard resting on a nearby table.
After looking it over for a few seconds, he pulled a sheet free.
"Sergeant Collins."
"He's been running patrols around this area for the past three weeks. He knows the back roads better than anyone we've got."
Andrew accepted the paper.
"Good. Have him meet us at the vehicles."
Harper folded his arms.
"How many people are you planning to bring?"
Andrew thought for a moment.
"My squad and Sergeant Collins."
Andrew looked back at the map.
"The rest of the platoon stays here. If something goes wrong, I don't want the entire platoon caught in it."
He pointed toward Terminus.
"They'll remain on standby. Vehicles fueled and weapons loaded. Ready to move if we call."
Harper nodded.
"I'll make the arrangements."
Andrew nodded.
"We leave in thirty minutes."
••••••
The two Humvees rolled steadily along the cracked highway, their engines the only sound breaking the afternoon silence.
Tall trees lined both sides of the road, their branches occasionally brushing against the roofs as the convoy passed beneath them.
Andrew sat in the front passenger seat of the lead vehicle, periodically glancing between the road ahead and the folded map resting on his lap.
Behind him, Sergeant Collins sat beside Shane, while Tucker, Cole and Novak occupied the rear seats.
The second Humvee followed roughly fifty meters behind, carrying the rest of the reconnaissance team.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Tucker leaned back in his seat.
"So..."
He looked across at Shane with an amused grin.
"I've been meaning to ask."
Shane looked over.
"Yeah?"
"What made you insist on coming with us?"
Cole chuckled.
"You could've stayed back in that nice neighborhood."
"No walkers. No bandits. No getting shot at."
Novak smirked.
"Sounds like a pretty good deal to me."
A few quiet laughs spread through the vehicle.
Shane simply looked out the window for a moment before answering.
"I've spent the last few weeks patrolling quiet neighborhoods. Settling arguments."
He shrugged.
"Nothing wrong with it. It's important."
His hand rested against the stock of the shotgun leaning beside him.
"But..."
He looked back toward the others.
"It's not where I belong."
The Humvee continued rumbling down the road.
Shane spoke again.
"I spent most of my life running toward trouble. That's what I know. That's what I'm good at."
He gave a faint, almost self-deprecating smile.
"I figured I'd be more useful out here than pretending I'm cut out to be the neighborhood cop."
Nobody laughed this time.
Cole slowly nodded.
"Your decision."
Tucker grinned.
"Guess that means you're one of us now."
Shane snorted.
"Let's not get carried away."
That earned a few chuckles.
Andrew glanced back over his shoulder.
"You know..."
"You didn't have to volunteer."
Shane met his eyes.
"I know."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
"I wanted to."
Andrew studied him for a second before giving a small nod.
"I'm glad you did."
Shane looked slightly surprised.
Andrew smiled faintly.
"There are people out there who need help."
He looked back toward the road.
"The more capable people I have beside me..."
"...the better our chances of completing our objectives."
Shane rested a hand on the shotgun across his knees.
His expression hardened with quiet determination.
"Then let's go get 'em."