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.I am seriously debating driving the HRT straight through the front of that fucking strip club later today.I’m starting to think the lives of the innocents in there are not as important as the lives of my two friends.I hate thinking that way, but it’s how I feel right now.Wish us luck Mr.Journal.-AdrianThe FactoryBlake blinked once slowly in the chill September night air and took his eye off the scope of his Enfield rifle.He had just spent a solid minute and a half staring at the front door of an old strip club that had been repurposed into a fortified sanctuary and his vision was getting blurry.People had gone there to survive the end of the world.They’d gone there to stay safe from the undead that had torn the city apart over a year ago.Blake wiped a cold rivulet of tear from his cheek as he turned to the man laying on the roof next to him, looking through the scope of a rifle just as he was.“Mike I don’t see how we can do this.The place is as tight as a sardine can," Blake said, trying to be quiet.“Tight as a right-winger’s asshole you mean,” Mike said without moving his eye from the scope."You talking about your own ass?" Blake chuckled softly and took in their surroundings.The two men were prone on the roof of a large warehouse about a tenth of a mile down the street from the abandoned strip club they’d driven to reconnoiter.The club was the stronghold of a competing group of survivors they’d been calling the Outsiders.The Outsiders had stolen from their town’s supplies, and had attacked Mike and Blake’s people several times in the past month or so.A recent set of violent clashes had led Adrian, the man that led Mike and Blake’s settlement to start a series of missions deep into Outsider territory to determine how much of a threat they actually posed.It seemed the Outsiders were terrible people.Three of the men had captured one of the Outsiders during one of their forays into the city, and the man named Barry confirmed what they’d heard from other survivors: the Outsiders had slaves in the club.It seemed like a classic case of the haves forcing the have-nots to do what they wanted.Petty despots ruling over the downtrodden in a world overrun with the walking dead.As if things weren’t shitty enough, Blake thought.“Adrian’s idea is still pretty solid.If we torch the dealership down the way to get them to come out, there are plenty of shooting positions around here we can take a lot of shots from before we have to move.I’m just worried that they either will come out guns blazing, or they just won’t come out at all.Then what the fuck do we do?” Blake said.“If they come out guns blazing then we duck, and wait for them to reload.At the very least, we’ve torched their rides.If they lay low and don’t come out, then we sit and wait for them to show their heads.They can’t stay in there forever.Turn it into an old fashioned siege,” Mike answered.Mike was wearing his National Guard uniform with some dark strips of cloth stitched and taped over it to make it more urban looking.Blake thought he looked silly, but Mike said it was useful.“Maybe there’s another way we can get in.Did Adrian say he checked the back of the building at all? There might be a side or back door that’s easier to get into,” Blake offered quietly in the pale moonlight.“I don’t think he made it to the far side of the building.I think he was content on his trip here to just watch this door and the vehicles in front.We could pack up, make a large circle, and try to get a look at the back.I tell you what though, there are no tall buildings on the other side of that nightclub.If we’re going to do this, it’s gonna be ground level, and fast as hell.In and out lickety-split.”“It’s dark, we’re sneaky.We can do it quick and be gone before they even know we’re there.” Blake grinned.Mike grinned back at the younger man.“Good attitude.Let’s do this and head home.”*****It took the men over two hours to circle the club.To ensure their own safety they’d taken a wide path that kept them far away from anywhere the people in the Factory could see.The last thing they wanted was to be spotted and get into a firefight
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