Peter was the first to the ground, making introductions to those that in his words made up the “democracy part of Redding's government,” as he also explained to them the events that had occurred since their botched salvage mission in Shasta Lake City

With great solemnity, they removed the remains of two of the Redding community, still contained within their heavy black plastic body bags. There were tears as Peter explained and confirmed the identities of the deceased as Isabel Bryner, and Joanna Somerset. Others had arrived, eager for news but it was unfair as he delivered the worst kind of news to friends, family, a husband and a pregnant wife that their loved ones were not coming home for the funeral that they deserved.

He repeated everything he said, confirming the identity of the Spartans later that afternoon at what was essentially a town meeting, and no matter what he said, and how he said, he left the five somewhat uncomfortable, “Should have left the other two bodies out there and brought nothing but news,” thought Robert as the ocean of faces studied him and for a paranoid moment it seemed as if they could read his thoughts. Cameron had spaced out to everything said as on the inside he hopped from one foot to another wanting to get off stage and away from the spotlight as fast as he can, a sentiment echoed by the others, pulled back to reality with Peter's closing words, “There will be a service for the eight of our fallen later this evening,” he shot a sidelong glance, catching the eye of each of the Spartans, “It would be appreciated if you would attend,” his words made Cameron bristle as no one ordered any of them around.

Peter turned his back for only a moment before Cameron had grabbed his shoulder and spun him round, eyes burning with rage that burned flesh and reach for his soul, “I'll take your request in to consideration, but my crew, make their own choices about whether or not they attend.”

To his credit, Peter met death’s gaze head on, “Your people can make whatever decisions they want, but the right thing to do would be to attend, and perhaps you could even say a few words.”

“Say a few words? Me? What would I say?” he snapped, “I never knew them. Hell, you should get Natalie to say a few words! She saw one of your friends get gunned down!” Neither of their voices had risen above normal conversational tones but it was clear that they had everyone's attention as first Peter, then Cameron flushed slightly as he too took notice, but stood firm, “My people make their own decisions, and my decision has no influence upon their decision.”

He turned and half walked, half stomped as he was accustomed to do when pissed off, the crowd parting before him, with some dark muttering as he made his way to the exit without a backwards glance, his team falling in behind him. Robert and Nastia relaxed, their hands falling limp at their sides from their side arms, unnoticed by the others, and they were all silently grateful for it.

Friendly relations were now on ice as the hours passed. It was just past noon when Peter banged on the door of the Fortress to be greeted by less grumpy but not happy Cameron who jumped to the ground to be able to meet Peter's eye, “What?”

Peter stared back, “I'm not here to or am I ever going to apologize for what I said.”

“That's good,” replied Cameron. Peter blinked in surprise as Cameron leaned against the side of their vehicle and sipped his warm instant coffee, “If you lead, you can’t spend time apologizing for your decisions.”

“You're new here, as are the rest of your travelers, but you could make an effort to fit in, and try not to be so conspicuous.”

He took another sip, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It was a town meeting, and instead of five people, I got five soldiers armed for war. People were supposed to get to know your faces and know your names. All you’ve done is make everyone nervous and question whether any of you can be trusted.” Cameron took another sip to as he thought that over. He’d been expecting an attack upon his character and leadership style, not a logical and reasoned argument.

Cameron took another sip and found that he had no choice in the matter, “Fair point,” he conceded, “But this does not mean that I will change my mind,” he extended his canteen towards Peter, “Everyone makes their own choices. I lead them when we're on the open road because democracy will get you killed out there.” He shrugged, “I don't like telling people what to do all the time, especially since Redding is a safe port of call.”

“So, we’re okay then?” Peter took a swig of the canteen and he grimaced as he swallowed the liquid where his stomach gave off an audible protest, “What is this stuff?” He spat trying to clear the taste.

“What? Something you don’t like about my coffee?”

“That's not coffee! Did you forget to add that other ingredient called water?”

“It’s instant crap. The less water you have in it, the better it is,” he replied as he capped the canteen and clipped it to his belt, “How about we offload your supplies?”

They spent a few hours offloading the supplies on to the back of a pickup truck, working with several of the local residents, helping rebuilt bridges they may have damaged earlier in the day. The loosely sorted medicines ranged from the mundane aspirin to the more exotic antibiotics, pain killers and asthma inhalers, all of which were worth more than their weight in gold – not that gold had any value. As word got around that the new arrivals had returned the medicines without asking for repayment, the community warmed to them as even Cameron defrosted slightly, “I don't suppose we could get a tour?”

Peter nodded, “We'll start with the heart of our community: The Redding Inn.” The hotel was the tallest in Redding at seven floors, “I suppose you could say we got lucky. Counting the hotel employees, there were sixty people when the fecal matter hit the rotary air circulation device. We killed the few undead that broke in to the hotel, and locked down the three entrances and secured the building.”

The hotel was the housing for most of the community’s singles, with families occupying houses and other buildings nearby, not to mention the few new couples that had formed, with more than one expectant mother amongst the community. Logistics, and supply management took up a lot of the former office space in the hotel with their own communications facilities setup in what used to be hotel call center.

The Redding Community had grown slowly as survivors trickled in from around Redding and several of the smaller outlying communities. As their numbers had grown, they had reclaimed - no doubt at great risk - the local hospital, mall, and countless stores and scavenged houses. Medicines came from the numerous pharmacies and clinics they had raided, keeping a careful inventory of everything they had in buildings that now served as warehouses kept under a constant armed guard.

In the two or so years since the undead had risen, walls had become the best weapon against the undead and other threats that had reared their heads, and Redding's walls clearly reflected this: The walls stood fifteen feet high and five feet thick, with raised, watch towers built in to the walls every two hundred meters around the length of the perimeter. The gates, such as the one the Fortress had entered through were recessed in to the wall, giving defenders atop the walls on both sides a kill zone where they could concentrate their firepower. The gates were heavy steel; portcullis styled that weighed close to a ton. When lowered, it was as strong as the walls around it, “The slots in the doorways are for cross bars,” explained Peter, as he hefted one such bar, “Once the portcullis comes down, you get one of these and run in from the side slots, resulting in a total lock down meaning you'd have to blow the gate and the wall around it. Obviously, half of our perimeter is the ravine meaning we don't have any real need for walls, but we have watchtowers with an electrified barbed wire fence. There are also a couple of escape routes over that way... just in case.”

Peter introduced them to a soft spoken blond who would give them the rest of the tour, citing several community matters that he had to attend to. Kim explained how they had benefited from an environmental initiative when the global warming was of pressing concern: Solar panels were installed on the roof of every building to generate electrical power, and in keeping with reducing their dependency upon fossil fuels, several windmills had also been established, “We’re also working on trying to get alcohol fuels and biodiesel and we’ve gotten it working for vehicles. Not quite for the generators thought. Something in the mix tends to gum up the mechanics after a couple of hundred hours but we’ll figure it out.”

Determined to stay civilized had also lead to the development of an effective plumbing and water purification systems, “We've managed to get the hotel's plumbing working so you can take a shower and use the toilet. We filter and purify all of our own water so as long as you limit the length of your showers, there should be no problem.”

It was mid-afternoon, when the tour concluded and they were back at the Fortress, to find Peter and almost a dozen others, dressed in or wearing armbands that were black in color. Peter held out five of the bands simply sayings “Its time.” Cameron nodded and tied one around his upper left arm like Peter. He tossed a glance over his shoulder at the rest, and stepped back to let them make their own decision on the matter.

It only took a moment for Peter to hand out four more, and another moment before the five of them followed Peter to Redding’s graveyard.