Survival: Besieged

By Thorne Stewart

The Journey was hard.
The Journey was long.

Now the survivors have reached their haven, only to find their are not safe.
Not only are they battling diminishing resources and both human and monster attacks, the must also fight through their personal mourning for all they have lost.
When they rescue other survivors, they bring down massive hordes on themselves and their Farm. How will they survive the siege and the coming battle?
Will the information they discovered be the key to their survival.

Will they have a chance? A chance at survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thorne Stewart
• Release date: Jan 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310830860

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Copyright Information Page

Copyright © 2014 by Thorne Stewart. All rights reserved worldwide.

No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author/publisher or the terms relayed to you herein.

Thorne Stewart

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One – Algae

Lisa

I lifted the soggy, discolored mass from the trough; another stunted growth of algae. This was the third batch in the last four days that I just couldn’t get to grow.

My reputation was that of a green thumb. I can grow anything and I take pride in that ability. The algae was killing me. I just could not figure out why I could not keep it growing. Before the time of the Reavers, the algae in these same troughs grew so fast and hardy that we could barely process it all. Now I struggled to produce just enough to keep a couple of generators in the compound going.

The theory behind growing algae was simple. Algae grows fast, very fast, usually enough to harvest daily. Once harvested, it could be fermented with a specific bacteria, and with a few more process would produce butanol. Butanol was a high quality fuel, basically a 100 octane gasoline substitute. Not only was it more efficient, it also was much less flammable, therefore much safer to store and use. But if the algae was stunted or tainted, it was basically useless for butanol production.

The rest of the plant stock was doing just fine; whatever was affecting the algae was having no effect on the rest of our crops, which was a relief. When the EMP hit, there were some anxious moments before we realized the fancy circuit breakers that Mike spent so much money on actually worked. While we did have to replace every light bulb, pump and small motor in every building in the entire compound, it was easier than replacing the 1,400 pound generators.

There were five total building groups that made up the food and energy production for the Farm. Each building was broken into five parts – one algae producing building, two food production buildings and 2 maintenance/equipment buildings. The maintenance buildings held such things as the fish/seafood tanks, silk worm farms and earth worm farms. In the building groups where fruit trees or bushes were grown, bee hives were also maintained. The food production and the algae buildings were all 60 feet by 100 feet while the maintenance buildings were 40 feet by 80 feet.

The buildings offered a complete range of growing environments, attempting to grow the products which would be necessary for a long term survival compound. There was an area where a sixth building could have been created which was instead used for a small orchard and garden for plants which could survive the natural climate of the Pacific Northwest.

Within the buildings, the special LED lights, using a mix of red and blue lights, maximized the growth and production potential of all plants grown. In addition, all plants were grown in a hydroponic environment which allowed for direct application of high levels of carbon dioxide directly to the roots where it was processed most effectively by the plants. The hydroponic solution was enriched with water washed through soil processed by earth worms. Between the enriched carbon dioxide infused water and the specialized lighting, the growth rate on all plants within the food production was phenomenal, requiring little of the maintenance work such as weeding or spraying with insecticide.

For the most part, all activities such as watering, rotating plants and even harvesting were performed automatically, at least as much as possible. Even with all the automation there was still a significant amount of work that required human attention, including all the maintenance and trouble shooting of processing, as well as selection of planting stock.

Water was from huge water tanks filled every winter through melted snow pack as well as the large amount of rain water gathered from the gutters on the building groups. The water supply was supplemented by well water if necessary. However, the reality was that the entire system was as close to a closed system as possible, which meant that once the water was in the system it was reused as much as possible. Once the water system was filled, very little more needed to be added.

All of which brought me back to the lack of growing success for the algae crops. I had been able to save the growth stock when the EMP hit, so the plant starts were as healthy as any we had prior to the disaster, but the crops were just not growing as they should.

Still no good? Jose asked me in Spanish.

I understood a little Spanish, having dealt with migrant workers for much of my career, but I didn’t need any translation for this. He had asked it every day since he started following me.

Jose had been tailing me for the last 3 months. I, as well as all the adults, couldn’t help but notice that we were regularly accompanied by the younger members of the group at the Farm. At first we just wrote it off as boredom, but after a while we all began to suspect that they had taken it upon themselves to train for when we were gone. While none of us actually said anything, I believe we all supposed that it was an organized effort towards succession planning. Again while no one would ever mention it out loud, we all knew that it was probably Jake that planned and organized the effort.

Mike was the unofficial leader of the Farm. He had planned, paid for, and built the compound in the first place. However, Jake had become the de facto leader of the younger members of our group. While the two men still maintained common goals, it was obvious that Jake would eventually advocate a more active approach to our situation than Mike would. While the older members would settle for maintaining our life on the Farm, Jake and most of the other younger members of the group wanted a more energetic approach.

Six months ago, the world permanently changed. According to news reports, a super virus had infected a majority of the world’s population. Two weeks later another virus ravaged the world, this one causing death and almost death.

At this point we were unsure of how either virus worked or if indeed there were two different viruses. The only thing we knew for certain was that most of the people in the world were turned into mindless killing machines. They felt no pain, could move and act no matter how badly injured they were and that if a non-monster person was scratched, bitten or came in contact with their saliva, that person would turn into one of the monsters. In addition, they tended to group together, although there seemed to be no organization to their groups, rather just common desires driving each one of them.

Why the not dead, not alive, being was so focused on consuming living meat was not understood by those of us at the Farm. In fact, much about the Reavers, as Mike called them, was not understood by us. All we knew was that if a Reaver saw, heard or smelled one of the living, it would pursue until the living was dead. As far as we could tell, the only way to permanently kill one of the animated corpses was to sever the head from the body, or cause enough damage to the brain to kill it.

If that wasn’t enough, an EMP event occurred which destroyed all our electronics. There were only two events which could cause this type of electrical catastrophe, a huge corona mass ejection from the sun, or a nuclear explosion approximately 200 miles over the earth. A lower explosion could cause a more localized event, but Tom had been able to determine that the event was not localized. This made us to believe that the event was a targeted strike against the United States. Regardless, this event pretty much destroyed all electronic and electrical devices, at the very least on the west coast. Any chance of surviving the virus disaster would be dependent on technology. Technology was basically destroyed with the EMP event.

That is, unless you are prepared for the event and have your electronic and electrical assets protected. For whatever reason, the creator of the Farm and my boss, Mike, had prepared for an EMP event. Most of our electric and electronic equipment had either been protected or spare components had been stored in protected containers called Faraday Cages.

While we had all been intellectually prepared for the EMP event, none of us had truly believed it would happen, let alone for the Reaver apocalypse that simultaneously occurred. These two events shocked and dismayed the survivors as did the fact that only three of the dozen normal staff of the compound managed to make it to the safety of the facility.

Our computer guru, Tom, had made an attempt to rescue his family from the epidemic, but had been unable to even get close enough to determine if they had been still alive. In the attempt, he did manage to rescue and bring back a school nurse, Anna, and a young girl, Cecilia, although they lost another young girl, Katrina in the process. The loss of Katrina, who Tom actually had to kill before she turned into a monster, still haunted him and there were times that I could still see the desperate sorrow on his face. In the process, he had also managed to rescue an elderly couple; Eugene and Eleanor.

Tom and I had been close before the apocalypse, but with the addition of Anna, I barely saw him. While I was happy that he had found someone, I couldn’t help but feel somewhat jealous. This was not helped by my sudden return to womanhood.

I had gone through menopause several years ago, yet in the last month, I had begun menstruating again and I regularly felt extremely sexually aroused. Even when I had been younger and of an age to be sexually active, I had never felt the strong urges I was feeling now. When I had my period a month ago, I had freaked out and had to go to Anna and Alison, for all intents and purposes our medical team, to find some answers. They had plenty of speculation, but nothing that put my mind at ease.

Alison had joined us when Mike had his incredible journey back home. Mike and his wife had been snowbirds, living in Washington during the summer and Phoenix, Arizona, during the winter. The outbreak and EMP events occurred at the end of September, when he was down south.

Mike had a lot of money, but the Farm was hideously expensive; therefore, rather than building two, one in Arizona and this one in Washington, he had only built the northern one, while establishing what he called way stations between his home in the south and the retreat up north. While the stations were also very expensive, all together, they were significantly less than the cost of building another Farm.

When his wife had been infected and nearly killed him, Mike managed to escape and begin a journey to our compound. It took him over a week to finally get here. Based on his corroborated stories, he had many harrowing incidents, but finally did make it. During his journey, he met and assisted several groups of people. While the details are not widely discussed, it has become common knowledge that he basically met different woman along the way and slept with most of them. With my level of sexual desire, I could hardly blame or judge either him or the woman for their amorous encounters. I have never been a prude, but casual sex is not something I generally approve of; yet I just could not bring myself to judge anyone at this point.

In the week it took Mike to make it to the Farm, those of us who were there managed to replace much of the lights, pumps and other equipment necessary to run the power and agricultural parts of the compound. Unfortunately, our algae production had either never recovered or was negatively affected by some mysterious cause.

On the last leg of Mike’s trip, he had managed to rescue a teenage girl named Lindsey. While she was a good looking girl, the fact that he had to kill her infected father had turned her into a sullen, uncontrollable teenage rebel. Much as I wanted to like her, her constant whining and self-pity had put her on my short list of people I simply ignore.

When Mike did arrive at the Farm, he had high hopes that some of his friends from Arizona or Washington, or those he had met on the road would make it as well. Three weeks passed by and he became more morose and depressed, often times turning to drinking alone in the lounge.

Finally on the day before Halloween, a caravan of 9 vehicles carrying 8 adults, 8 teenagers and children, one baby and three dogs arrived at the compound. It was an amazing homecoming, although the stories they had to tell were beyond belief, even compared to Mike’s story. I had never seen Mike happier than when they appeared on the security camera.

It had taken several weeks for everyone to get settled in, all except for the dogs who took to the farm like ducks to water. Even now they could be seen running around, just looking for someone to throw the balls they always seemed to have in their mouths. It was very seldom that they couldn’t find someone to do so. Truly, they had lightened the mood of us survivors, reminding us of happier, more carefree days. The daily grind, the worries and concerns of the past, now seemed so petty and insignificant.

With Jose still tailing me, I left the building, heading over to the next building, hoping that I would find better results with the algae there. As I walked along the gravel path, we had stopped using the four-wheelers in an attempt to save gas for the generators, I saw Eugene heading to the barn.

Eugene had become a pillar of strength for our community, although he was careful to avoid any position or even perception of leadership. As much as I prided myself in my skills at growing things, he had literally forgotten more than I knew. Even with all that, he had been very respectful to me and instead of usurping my position as agricultural lead in the community, he had taken over the care and maintenance of the animals we kept.

As I continued onto the next building, I reflected on how I had got myself into this position. I had no regrets, especially since it was the reason I was still alive.

I had been a teacher’s assistant, and an old one at that, in a biology class at a local community college when Mike had showed up asking for help. The professor had recommended me to him. Saying that he just needed help with some bacteria cultures on a part time basis, he hired me on the spot and took me to the Farm.

The Farm was so cool and so intriguing that I fell in love with it right away. Nowhere else could I find the kind of closed, interactive system that I found there. After performing the work Mike needed, I literally begged him to hire me on a full time basis. He reluctantly agreed to a one month trial period. During that month, I labored intensely to demonstrate my worth to his facility. The job itself was a dream come true, producing real crops instead of simply decorative flowering greenery or plant starts.

In the end, he almost had to hire me permanently. His system was great on a theoretical basis, but the reality was that there was no way to automate everything. Someone had to be a caretaker for the plants.

My skills at growing came from the many years I had worked at nurseries, eventually moving to a management position. The owners of the retail plant store where I was working had suggested that I get at least a two year degree in biology, agreeing to pay the tuition for me to do so. Half way through my second year, they had gone bankrupt and had to close the store. This left me with no job, tuition due for the rest of the year and no future employment potential.

I managed to scrounge up enough money to complete my degree, and became close enough with the head of the biology department to receive a teacher’s assistant position while I looked for another job. Mike and this position turned out to be my saving grace.

While I did the plants, Tom, our computer guy, and Dave, our HVAC and plumbing expert, had taken care of the automated part of the system. During our many hours of disagreement and fighting over the way to maintain the plants, Tom and I had grown pretty close, so close that we always arranged to work the same 24 hour shifts.

Being somewhat on the chubby side my entire life and, when I was honest with myself, not the prettiest girl around, I was one of those referred to as having a nice personality. I really had no serious romantic relationships. My friendship with Tom was about as close as I had gotten, and although he was nearly 20 years my junior; I could still hope and dream. When Anna showed up, I saw that fantasy shattered. I worked hard not to let my disappointment affect my relationship with either one of them, but I think it showed through, causing a little bit of coldness and distance. I regretted it, but I was sufficiently despaired to let it leak through.

For that reason and to forget the frustration of the situation, I threw myself into my work, which made the fact that the algae just refused to grow properly even more discouraging. While I had not given up, I was beginning to get desperate in my attempts. Having Jose shadowing me only made matters worse, since I knew as a migrant worker he had a great deal of practical farming . I could see the doubt and disillusionment in his eyes. In fact, I believe he started to disbelieve that the system had ever worked, for which I could hardly blame him.

The importance of the algae could not be understated. The entire system was predicated on sufficient algae to power the system as well as the rest of the farm. With the limited algae production, our food and power production would slowly diminish, until there was not enough to supply the Farm. Without the supplies, the long term survival of the compound and the residents was questionable at best and impossible at worst.

The pressure to figure out why the algae were not growing effectively was beginning to wear on me. In fact, if our fuel supply was not replenished soon, we would start to get into a dangerous situation. There were now 26 people, 3 dogs, chickens, cows, pigs and goats dependent on my ability to produce food and electricity, as well as enough surplus fuel to power our vehicles and the various independent generators scattered around the facility. Already we were beginning to ration our fuel and power.

Mike had kept a supply of solar panels in one of the Faraday cages and we had long since put them up. However, in the Pacific Northwest, with our short day during the winter and lack of sunshine for the majority of the year, they really had not made much of a difference. We had hopes that during the summer months they might provide enough power to make the difference, although they would not make for a long term solution.

The Farm had been established to house and feed up to 50 people, although that many people would have stretched its capabilities, even with the algae crop production at normal levels. The most effective number was around 40, enough people to manage the compound while not taxing the systems too hard. With the 26 we had now, especially with the number of young people, it was going to be a challenge to maintain. The apparent willingness of the teenagers to learn and contribute gave me some hope that perhaps the job would not be as difficult as it could be without their help.

While the algae production had turned into nothing but frustration, there were some surprising but uplifting personal effects of our current situation. I had always been chubby....o.k. fat. As far back as I could remember I was the largest person in any group I was in. People avoided sitting next to me on the airplane, ignored me in social situations and were carefully polite to me both at school and at the nursery, even while I could see the judgment in their eyes.

I had been both embarrassed and frustrated by people’s reaction. It wasn’t as if I didn’t try. I was always on a diet and I spent hours exercising, although fast walks were generally all I could manage. Nothing seemed to help or work. Because I was overweight as a child, I never participated in sports or any type of active endeavor. Instead I read books. By the time I realized that I was awkward and lacked coordination, it was too late to start. This affected my mood and I was always down, not exactly depressed, just sort of morose.

Lately though, there was a spring to my step and I seemed to be more graceful and able to do actions that required a certain level of dexterity. I even found myself dancing. Granted the dancing was in my quarters where no one else was around, yet it was still dancing.

The improved mood was not the only emotion I was feeling. All of a sudden I began to feel something new; desire. I had never understood why people were so passionate about sex. It was always on TV, in the movies and prevalent in all the talk around me. While in high school, I tried to figure it out by masturbating. The only thing I found out was that my thighs and belly were so big; I could barely find myself to touch. Even though no one knew about it, I was still so embarrassed; I closed off any sexual desires or thoughts, vowing to never again think about it.

In addition to my improved mood, I found that I didn’t close off my interest in sex nearly as much as I thought I had. I found myself in bed, dreaming about kissing, hugging, feeling hands running over my body and grasping a man’s body. I finally gave in and tried to touch myself again. By that time, I had lost enough weight that I could both reach my love button and effectively manipulate it. It took me a while to figure out what was the most pleasurable way to rub myself. Eventually I figured it out and soon, I was squirming in my first orgasm, pleasure thrumming through me, screams of pleasure filling my lungs. Now I understood why everyone had been so obsessed with it. From then on, every night I found myself rubbing off, as I called it. In fact, there was more than once that I considered joining the long line of women rotating through Mike’s and Brandon’s room every night. It was my old friend, fear of rejection that kept me from doing so.

I always had a scale around, and when I got to less than 200 pounds I was shocked and amazed. It had been two weeks since the algae growth problem had reared its ugly head and I was scrambling around trying to fix the problem. I hadn’t exercised during that time and was just grabbing whatever