Chapter 9

In downtown Killeen there had been a nice hotel, the nicest for the area. It had required some cleanup and the disposal of more than a few bodies but had been made livable. Originally it was an upscale hotel meant for the business trips for those coming into the area or some of the big wig military types it had suites as well as conference rooms. One conference room in particular had been turned into the Presidential Office. At least that’s what the new occupants of the hotel called it.

The group had started small, a few of the tough guy and wannabe tough guy types clinging to the charismatic self-proclaimed President. He even gave his reasons for the title. Bill Bush was not only probably the highest ranking survivor as the Killeen councilman, he was also a cousin of the Bush family “royalty”. In his mind he had been destined to be the third Bush President, it wasn’t his fault the superflu got in the way of making it official. So he had just assumed the title in this new world.

The hotel gave them a place they could secure with plenty of space and comfort. Even though electricity had gone down, it had simply taken a couple of the guys to point out it had a backup generator capable of supplying the building with power. All they had to do was keep it maintained and fueled. Food had been easy enough at first. They simply took what they needed, whether it was from deserted buildings or from people too weak to hold onto their own belongings. Sure, some of the men on both sides had died in the process, but the new world was about survival of the fittest. Weak men were eliminated and their women taken to help start to repopulate the earth; plus as the saying goes “to the victor go the spoils.”

So far there had been only one issue the President was aware of with that. Jack and Paul had been interrupted when acquiring a new bitch for the collection. Paul had been murdered and Jack barely survived as they were ambushed by several armed men, the girl presumably taken away as she hadn’t been seen since. Since then scavenging forces had gone out better armed and always in at least pairs.

Periodic meetings were held in the conference room along with anything needing to be briefed to the President directly. It was one of these briefings that got him upset today. “What do you mean you were run off the road?! We rule these streets!”

Wayne shuffled his feet a little at the display of anger from their leader. “We did like we’ve been told, anytime we see someone we go after ‘em. This one was a pickup out of some Mad Max type thing. It had metal plates on it. So when Hank shot it, the bullets just bounced off. Then the driver did some fancy driving while the two guys in the back started shooting back with machine guns out the windows. Lucky for us they couldn’t shoot for shit, but they managed to hit a tire. It blew mid turn and we crashed into the side of one of the shops downtown.”

Hank nodded his head in agreement. “If it hadn’t been for the lucky shot at the tires we’d have had those assholes. There were only 3, even if they had machine guns. We had ‘em panicked and runnin’. I bet the driver pissed hisself when my shot pinged off his door.”

The President considered this for a few moments, pacing back and forth. “I’ll bet these are those same assholes that ambushed Paul and Jack. We take them out, we can get that bitch they had stolen from them back.” Here he reached down and scratched at his crotch. A little overuse of the bitches this week had him sore and irritated. That had to be the cause of the burning, right? “From now on I want lookout shifts up on the roof 24/7. 1 person each side with a radio. They see anything that isn’t one of our guys, we go after them in force. Keep all but the front door secure and someone at the desk constant. Draw up a guard roster for roof and the front. Anyone fails to show and there’ll be punishments.”