Searching Green Bay

Posted on Fri Nov 7th, 2025 @ 11:30pm by Survivor Connor Bell & Survivor Patrick Bell

2,526 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Winter's hope
Location: Green Bay, Wisconsin

The attack had been so sudden. One moment, the bell siblings were taking a rest by a fire, in the next, everything changed. The wrestling was the first thing they noticed, a small sound from the trees beyond the clearing. Then, before they could really raise their weapons, the men had descended on the temporary camp. There were a lot of them, and it seemed they wanted more than just resources. There were gunshots, shuffling, and their older sister’s scream.

“My feet are killing me. I really should replace these shoes.” Connor said, moving a strand of dirty blonde hair out of his face. He had always been the quiet, sensitive, and well-adjusted twin. All one had to do was look at his brother’s full sleeves.

“Poor baby.” Patrick responded, taking a quick drag on the cigarette he’d been smoking for the past few minutes. They had found an unopened box in a house they had broken into, and while Connor didn’t partake, Patrick was having the time of his life. “Want me to change your dipey wipey?”

“I want you to change your attitude. Three full days in Green Bay looking for Harley, and nothing.” Connor responded, his tone calm and measured. “I’m really hoping she just went back to Lambeau and we can find her there with that psycho, Cain.”

“He wasn’t too bad. If she’s there, she’s probably safe.”“Well, they used to clash like crazy. I thought he would shoot her once or twice.” Connor said, allowing a small smile. “I’m not sure what he’d do if he saw her again. Maybe he’d turn her away.”

“Cain wanted in her pants. I’d bet all the money in my wallet he’d let her back in just for a chance.” Patrick said, blowing out a puff of air as they reached the edge of the parking-lot leading up to the main entrance. It was covered in rails, blocks, barbed wire, and makeshift defenses to slow down approachers, dead and alive alike.

“And use it for what, Pat? As a wall decoration? It’s useless.” Connor retorted.

Devon walked along the ruined streets, cautiously with bow on hand and her arrow notched in. From the distance, gunshots echoed followed by screaming. Then silence. Stark, uncomfortable silence aside from the small scampering and panting beside her. Looking down, she watched Rory, her red furred Aussietare, scamper along the rocks. The Irish Terrier Aussie Shepard mix stopped suddenly and sniffed. He barked.

“What is it, Rory?” Devon inquired. Rory growled, taking off suddenly toward the corner of the street. She cursed silently, “Hold on. Don’t go too far.”

Gripping her bow, she hastily chased her dog across the street into the corner. Spying her dog running along the sidewalk, she chased him towards the big tree next to a parking lot. A big but closed up stadium came into view from the main lot. Keeping her bow primed and ready, Devon kept her eyes open and on guard.

Rory growled, sniffing and digging into the hole of the tree. He barked silently, scratching the bark off the thick roots before managing to stick his head into the hole. He continued to dig, trying to grab an unidentified hand that seemed just out of reach of his jaws.

“Did you hear that?” Connor asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Hear what?” Patrick asked, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the ground.

“I heard a dog barking. Kinda weird. I was pretty sure most of the dogs around here already became Walker food.”

“Except this one.” Patrick replied dryly. “Or maybe it’s a Zombie dog.”

“You’re a jackass.” Connor responded, shaking his head and smiling.

Devon kept her eyes on Rory and sighed. Not wanting to let go of her weapon, she urgently whispered, “Rory, come on. Let’s go. Id rather not stick around longer.” She anxiously looked around. Before her was the stadium wall. However, the air felt different. Wrong. She couldn’t put it down. Something was off.

Off her vision, to the left side of her blind spot were two armed men. However, they didn’t bother her as she returned her attention on Rory digging frantically into the hole in the tree. Finally, she had enough.

Approaching Rory, she lowered her bow to pat him roughly on the side, “Rory, stop. Heel. Heel!”

Rory whimpered but gave up digging. Pulling out, he sat and looked up to his human mother with a yip.

“Come,” Devon commanded, expecting Rory to follow. She walked towards the two men hanging around and chatting near the edge of the parking lot. Sensing no danger nearby, Devon calmly lowered her bow but set the point toward the ground readily to defend herself.

“Hey you,” She called out to the twins, “Friend or foe?”

The two long-haired, tall men turned to look at the source of the voice. When they saw the red-haired woman in tactical gear standing with a shaggy dog, they lingered where they were. The two men were spitting images save different clothes, so it seemed, the one of them put off a vibe of being much less friendly than the other. He’s the one who spoke up first.

“Foe. Get fucked. We don’t have any food.” Patrick responded, lifting his chin.

“Jeez, what’s wrong with you?” Connor asked mostly for the benefit of their new guest. He had been born with Patrick and knew that his chastisement was pointless. He looked at the woman and opened his hands.

“We aren’t the worst. It’s just him.” He said, giving a very handsome smile obscured by dirt on his face.

Rory looked at them and cocked his head. His silent bark at Patrick caused Devon to sigh, “Easy Rory. No danger. Just harmless boys.”

Refocusing her attention on the boys, he ignored the one that shouted and responded to the calm one, “I’m not looking for food or trouble. Just information. Is that a stadium? What happened here?”

“Boys?” Patrick asked, folding his strong arms under his chest. He was fiercely good looking and he directed his cool blue eyes at the woman from across the way. “Get double fucked. I’m a man.”

“That’s Lambeau Field.” Connor answered, ignoring the statement from his twin. “We were there when the world went to Hell. Stayed there for weeks before we left. There’s a huge group there.”

Devon grew serious listening to Connor. Saying it wasn’t good would be an understatement. She inquired, “huge group? Turned to Walkers? What are you doing here, then? You should be walking away from them. Unless you’re looking to rescue someone, which is highly unlikely anyone would be left alive.”

“No, a stable group. Led by that one rapper, Malik. They’re..intense..” Connor said. “I’m Connor, and this walking disappointment is my little brother, Patrick.”

“He’s older by seven minutes.” Patrick said, rolling his eyes and giving a half smirk at the battle they were having.

“Seven big minutes.” Connor said with a chuckle, turning back to the woman. “What’s your name? Are you out here all by yourself?”

“Devon”, She replied lowering her guard. They seem friendly enough. She nodded on the ground at her laying puppy, “He’s Rory. My guard dog. He’s friendly and doesn’t bite.”

Nodding towards the stadium, Devon answered their second question, “I had a traveling companion but he’s elsewhere at the moment. I’ve been surviving on my own just fine. Where you guys from?”

“West Texas.” Patrick answered. Their drawl was decently pronounced. He still looked at her with schepticism. His eyes moved up and down quickly, but his face remained the same. “That traveling companion of yours. Is he a husband, or boyfriend, or..?”

“Ignore that.” Connor said with a frown. He started off in her direction, not bothering to see if his brother was coming along. “You have a bit of an accent too. Where are you from?”

She watched them warily as Connor approached while ignoring Patrick’s retort about her traveling companion with an eye roll and replied to Con, “Ireland. I just moved here nearly a year ago so all of this is still new to me. Big wilderness. Plenty of space to explore. And Patrick.”

She looked at him casually, “For your information, he’s my Uncle. He’s been my American tour guide.”

“Sooo…” Devon rewinded the conversation in her head and inquired curiously, “Who’s Malik? Why is he in there?”

“He’s that one rapper that does that one song…uhh..” Connor attempted as he finally approached her. It was Patrick who saved him.

“Glitch Mode. And Money Talk.” Pat said, licking his lips, his arms still crossed disagreeable. “So, no boyfriend…good start.”

“Anyway..” Connor said, stepping slightly in front of his brother and cutting off the intense but charming thing he was doing. “We’re actually looking for our sister. Wondering if you’ve seen her here. She’s blonde with blue eyes like us. About this tall…”

He gestured with his hands, “The last time we saw her she was wearing a white tank too. She’s sweet but bossy and we were hoping she would come back here after we got separated.”

Devon shook her head. She hadn’t seen anyone with that description. “No I haven’t. Maybe Rory could help. His sense of smell is pretty strong. Do you have anything that belongs to your sister?”

“Uhhh..sure, hang on.” Connor said, pushing aside his rifle on his back and dropping his jacket off his arms to the ground. He knelt down and opened it up before pulling out a pink bra which he lifted folding it in half. “Will this do the job?”

Devon nodded, taking the folded fabric. Rory whimpered softly sitting up. As he sniffed it, she asked, “Connor. Where did you last see her? Here?”

“No. We were pretty far away..somewhere in the woods by Fox Crossing south-west of the city.” Connor answered.

“Her name’s Harley. She’s 24, talks like she runs everything, big balloon tits, so that bra should help your dog sniff her within a fifty mile radius.” Patrick said with a smirk. “We gutted the football field inside to plant crops and our family ran the ag scheme, but it wasn’t exactly planting season, you know… people started acting crazy. We decided to get the fuck out before it all went to hell.”

“Some guys attacked our makeshift camp in the woods when we were resting.” Connor took over as if he had been talking the entire time. “We fought them off, but Harley went missing. We figured she might have come back here..”

Devon nodded, listening to the young men talking while Rory sniffed the fabric. He whimpered sadly, not picking up anything. She shrugged, standing up and handing the fabric back to Connor, replying, “I can help you search for her.”

“Doesn’t look like your dog senses her.”Connor said, putting up a thumb pointed back toward the stadium. “We were going to see if she came back, but these people and us aren’t exactly on talking terms.”

Devon shrugged, “He’s only three years old. Maybe we can convince them to talk?” She turned and started walking towards the main entrance of the stadium.

“I guess maybe.” Connor said as he watched her start through the blockages and wires sectioning off the parking lot. “Be careful.”

“She can handle herself.” Patrick said, eying the woman and started off after her. “You should let us do the talking. The backbone of this group is two teams of football players led by Cain who is, go figure, full of himself. We took a few things when we left and they won’t be happy.”

Devon nodded, “Agreed. I’ll keep a sharp eye out for your sister. What does she look like again?”

“Blonde. Big blue eyes.” Connor said as they made their final approach. The sound of clicking echoed through the parking lot. He looked up and saw the barrels of two guns pointing out of open sections. Connor raised his hands. “Easy, we come in peace.”

“Connor, is that you?” Came a familiar voice.

“Peyton?” Connor asked.

“Hey, man! Where you two been? We thought you left us.” Peyton said from above them. He stood up, a brown-haired young man. “Where’s Harley?”

“We were hoping you would know.” Patrick answered. “Has she come through here in the last few days?”

“No, man. And trust me, I’d know if your hurricane of a sister came back here.” Peyton answered.

Devon looked at the opposing small group of people that pointed weapons at them. Keeping her bow halfway drawn with the arrow pointed down, she hoped they wouldn’t open fire. Keeping her senses alert, she listened to them speak. An open gunfight was the last thing they needed in searching for Harley. Looking at them, Devon didn’t see anyone matching her description.

“Damnit. She’s not here.” Patrick said, turning back to the Devon and Connor. “We should get out of here before they start asking for their shit back.”

“Agreed.” Connor said, and the looked back up at the men. “Hey, do me a favor you too. Don’t tell anyone you saw us. It’ll just complicate matters for us.”

“Wait, where you going, man?” Peyton asked as Connor started off with the other two.

As the three of them set off, Patrick balled his hands into tight fists, the rings he was wearing moving along with them.

“Where the fuck is she?”

Devon followed alongside with Rory scampering a bit ahead. She added, “If she’s not here, does she have other places to go or hiding spots? Maybe we can check there?”

“No, we don’t have anything like that. She’s out there in the cold by herself.” Connor said with a frown as they waxed through the parking lot away from the stadium.

“By the look of those guys, she might not be alone at all.” Patrick said, thinking about the men who had attacked them. “We should go back to the campsite and see if we can track her from there.”

“I guess that’s our only choice.” Connor said, looking at Devon. “I assume you’re going to reconnect with your uncle now?”

Devon nodded, “Still searching. His house is somewhere in the suburbs.” Truthfully, she hadn’t seen him in about a month. He asked her to search for his daughter. As they walked away from the parking lot, she pointed ahead, “His house should be somewhere that ways. You two fine on your own?”

“Yeah, we can handle ourselves.” Patrick said, patting the mossberg over his shoulder. “Don’t get yourself killed out here, Devon…or worse.”

Devon nodded, “Dont worry about me. Stay safe.”

She turned and walked off alone toward the adjacent street with Rory running beside her.

 

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