The Zombie Train The Transport Corp

Chapter 22: Happy Birthday!

Men, women, and children were running about. People getting food from one of the many tables, adding to their paper plates stacked high. Little stands we're selling honey sticks, bouncy balls, and little casts of toy trains. Almost like the old farmer's markets that used to be held here in Central Park. I walked around, inspecting the stands. Buying fistfuls of honey sticks with the 7.62 rounds I had on me.
Nowadays, rounds were more than common ammunition, now they served as makeshift currency, at least for now. Since we were also making the ammunition, the small skirmishes with zombies and raiders provided adequate consumption, it was a viable option.
7.62 and 5.56 were the main types most used and therefore most adequate for transactions. If you could imagine using 5.56 as dollars, and 7.62 as ten dollar bills. That's roughly how they were priced.
My 7.92 Kurtz rounds or 30-06 rounds used in my STG or Springfield were more for my private use, not as currency. 5.56 and 7.62 were the "official" currency. Although, I wanted to try any gain control of a central bank to reinstall paper currency. In due time.
Back to the party. Kids played on the playground, adults walked through the market, looking for bargains on useless items. I eventually made my way to the WW2 memorial, just a little off the center of the park.
I remembered my friends, my family who gave their lives. Those who never got back to reap the rewards of their sufferings. But it was me. Me! Who got home. Men like Isaiah, Vance, Andrew, the Flint family, even the poor couple who we never saw again. But it was here that we celebrated their comeings, they wouldn't be forgotten. I would not allow it.
I wouldn't.
We were called to the basketball court. Benches and folding chairs lined the perimeter of the old, rugged asphalt. Dai and his assistant Jessica stood atop a temporary wooden stage, a mike stood as tall as they.
"Welcome all citizens of The Democratic Society of The United States! Today we celebrate the birthdays since the start of the apocalypse! Since the world went to hell nearly nine months ago, we are one of the few who began to rebuild this great nation. With the help of our secretaries, and you! You all are going down in history, as the people who rebuilt the U.S.A! Be proud of yourself, for you are survivors!"
A cheer went out from amongst the crowd, I simultaneously found myself clapping.
"And now onto cake!" Another cheer! "At the tables set up near the barbecues, you can get a slice of homemade, from scratch, chocolate cake. Thank you all." He stepped down.
All the crowd began heading for the tables for their treat.
I met Dai behind the stage. "Hey. Thanks Marvin, this has been a big hit."
"Don't thank me just yet." We shook each other's hand. "The San Diego campaign? They're requesting a shipment of guns and ammunition."
"Well, aren't you supposed to take care of that?"
"Yes, but they followed it up with something more interesting."
I handed Dai a fax report on actions in Paso Robles, his skin went white.