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The victory over the gang’s scouts had been swift, decisive, but Frank knew better than to let his guard down. Beaufort’s defenses had held, but there was no question that this was just the first skirmish in what could become a larger, more sustained attack. The real fight was on the horizon, and Frank could feel it in his bones.
For now, the town was abuzz with cautious optimism. People felt proud, even hopeful, after hearing how the Marines and volunteers had handled the gang’s raiders. But Frank was already planning the next phase of fortification. He knew that this initial victory would draw attention, good and bad.
The next morning, Frank gathered his leadership team. Captain Ruiz, Colt, Nash, Annie, and several civilians who had stepped up to help with logistics sat around a long table in the repurposed town hall.
“We got lucky yesterday,” Frank started, his voice low and serious. “Those scouts weren’t the full force, and if their leaders have any sense, they’ll regroup and come back with everything they’ve got. We need to be ready. There’s no doubt they’ll attack again.”
Ruiz nodded in agreement, arms crossed. “We’ve got our defenses in place, but we’re still too exposed in a few areas. We need to reinforce the barricades, get more eyes on the perimeter.”
“We can get more volunteers to patrol,” Annie added. “We’ve trained most of the civilians, but there are plenty of people who want to do more than just guard duty. If we train them right, we can set up rotating shifts.”
Colt leaned forward, clearly deep in thought. “We should also focus on supply runs. We’ve been lucky with what we’ve scavenged so far, but with more people coming in, we’ll burn through it faster. If we can find another warehouse or another store like we did in Savannah, we can keep building up our food and medical supplies.”
Frank nodded, appreciating the practicality of his son's thinking. Colt had been maturing rapidly, not just physically but mentally. His leadership was growing stronger by the day. “Agreed. We need to secure another food source soon. But first, we’ve got to lock down Beaufort.”
Ruiz leaned forward. “I’m thinking we expand the perimeter by another hundred meters. Clear out everything in that zone, trees, brush, anything that could give cover. I want to see them coming from a mile away.”
Frank looked around the table. “We can start that today. I’ll need half of the Marines on perimeter defense while the rest help with the clearing and building.”
Annie spoke up next. “We also need better communication. We’ve been relying on runners and short-range radios, but that won’t cut it if we’re attacked on multiple fronts. If we can get some solar panels working and boost our radios, we could coordinate more effectively across the town.”
“That’s a good idea,” Frank said. “Anyone have leads on equipment?”
Nash chimed in for the first time. “I’ve been talking to some of the older guys who used to work at the naval base in Charleston. They said there might still be some comms gear left there. It wasn’t fully looted when everything went down.”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Charleston’s a risk. Big city, lots of undead. But if we can get the right gear, it’ll be worth it. Let’s put together a team and hit it in a few days.”
Ruiz looked at Frank. “We’ve got another concern too—the river.”
Frank’s brow furrowed. “The river?”
Ruiz nodded. “We’ve been focused on ground attacks, but if those gangs have boats, they could come up the river and hit us from the water. We don’t have much in the way of defenses along the shoreline.”
Frank hadn’t thought about the water threat, but it made sense. Beaufort was surrounded by marshlands and rivers, and while the waterways had provided a natural barrier against the undead, they could be a vulnerability if someone knew how to use them.
“We’ll need to set up a watch along the river,” Frank said. “Maybe even fortify a few key points along the shore. We’ll use the marsh to our advantage—set up traps, use the natural bottlenecks to slow them down.”
The group spent the next hour hammering out the details. Teams would be assigned to clearing the new perimeter, setting up traps along the river, and scouting for better communication gear in Charleston. By the end of the meeting, everyone had their marching orders.
As the room cleared out, Frank stayed behind with Annie and the boys. Colt and Nash had been quiet for the last few minutes, clearly thinking about something.
“What’s on your mind?” Frank asked, looking between his sons.
Colt spoke first. “Dad, we’re talking a lot about defenses, but what happens when the fighting stops? When the gangs are gone?”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “You think the fighting’s going to stop?”
Colt shrugged. “It has to, eventually. At least against people. The zombies... they’re a different problem. But I’m thinking about the future—how we keep building, how we make sure this isn’t just about surviving day to day.”
Frank exchanged a glance with Annie. Colt was starting to think beyond the here and now. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes, Colt. Right now, we focus on keeping everyone safe.”
Colt nodded but didn’t seem satisfied with the answer.
Nash, ever the quieter of the two, finally spoke up. “If we make it through this, maybe we could be something more than just a stronghold. Maybe Beaufort could be the start of something bigger.”
Frank placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “One step at a time, Nash. But you’re right. We’re not just surviving here. We’re building something.”
Annie smiled softly. “We’ll make sure it’s a world worth living in. Not just for us, but for the people coming after.”
Frank looked out the window, toward the marshes and the town they had worked so hard to protect. The work was far from over, but Beaufort had become more than just a haven—it was the beginning of a new chapter in human survival.
“We’ll survive,” Frank said, his voice steady. “But we’ll also thrive. And if anyone tries to take that from us, they’ll get a Southern welcome they won’t forget.”