Haven From Hell (Book 3): A Young Man's Game

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Haven From Hell (Book 3): A Young Man's Game Page 6

by Won, Mark


  I thought, what does that have to do with anything? But what I said was, “Maybe that thug is hiding in the first building he came to, hoping we’ll just drive on by. You should check those first.”

  Chloe and Tisha gave each other a long stare. Then Tisha said, “We’re going back to the hospital like Dr. Summer said. We don’t have time to go get him.”

  “What!? Not get him. Let me out!” I tried to exit the car (I could have safely rolled out) but the stupid cop doors were locked.

  Tisha said, “What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?”

  “I want out so I can go kill that thug!” I couldn’t just let him get away. That would be immoral.

  Tisha continued, “I thought you said that you were going to let him go? Now you want to go back on what you promised? That doesn’t sound right.” Tisha was trying that adult rationality thing, but she didn’t understand.

  “I didn’t say I’d let him go, I said that I’d let him ‘run away’. And he did, as well as he could. You think I’d let that thug escape? After what he did to you? Don’t be dumb. The whole point of the game was so that you two could have a little fun killing him. He’s had all the head start he’s going to get.”

  Chloe said, “Don’t sweat it, the zombies will get him.” Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.

  Still, “What fun is that? Look, I already took care of the ogres and ghouls. Those zombies are super slow. We got enough time to at least check out one building.” ‘We’ meaning Tracer and me.

  Tisha was looking like she had just thought of something. I hoped it was where we could look for the thug. “Are you trying to get us into trouble? Do you have any idea how mad Dr. Summer would be if you got hurt. Do you think she’d be pleased if we don’t bring you back? Don’t you realize how worried people get about stuff like that? What’s Bruce going to do without you? He’s knows you ditched him for our ‘play time’. How do you think that makes him feel? Bad! That’s how! Why don’t you try thinking of someone else for a change?”

  Chloe and Tisha were giving each other enigmatic looks like they were sharing some private thoughts, so I knew they weren’t telling me something. Tisha had a point, though. It wouldn’t do to worry everybody, especially Bruce. That poor guy needs someone to look after him. Besides, maybe the zombies would kill the thug. If not I could look for him later.

  Temporarily defeated, I crossed my arms, “Oh, alright. I might as well give the babies their bottle.” I thought, What the heck do they seem so relieved about. Dumb girls! I guess they were just being smug because they got their own way. How childish.

  While we were on our way Tisha asked me, “Where did you get those scars on your wrist from, Gideon?” She must have seen them when I held my paper up to the partition. I usually keep them hidden better than that.

  I freed both wrists from my cloak sleeves to show her my bite marks. “My brothers and sisters gave them to me. I had a real big family. Six older brothers and five sisters.” Better my wrists than my throat.

  All she said was, “Oh.”

  We made it back to the garage without any trouble, way ahead of the zombies. Once inside we locked the doors and I went off to find Bruce and Mr. Run. I was looking forward to winning my favorite board game, Find the Cure. It was a funny game to have in a hospital.

  Chapter 6

  “I’ve got someone here!” Dr. Summer was pretty excited. She had been using the shortwave in the hospital to try and contact people all day, and she finally was hearing from Mark, in Haven.

  Mr. Run said, “Don’t be too quick to respond. It could be a trap. How do we know those people are any better than the thugs who had us before?”

  I said, “No, their okay. That’s Mark. He’s a nice man.”

  Everybody stared at me so hard I had to check my fly.

  Dr. Summer said, “How do you know Mark, Gideon?”

  “I used to talk to him all the time until I left home. Without a big antenna I couldn’t really keep up the conversation. You know how shortwave is. Totally hit and miss.” I have to admit, maybe Dr. Summer didn’t know that. She was a surgeon but I’m pretty sure she wasn’t a brain surgeon, if ya’ know what I mean.

  Bruce took me at my word and picked up the microphone, “Hello, this is Dr. Bruce Hawthorn. Can you hear me...”

  Once they all got ahold of Mark everybody was real happy. Mark said that he’d send some buses down to us the first chance he got. I don’t know what the big deal was. I thought the hospital was real nice. We could easily stay there for months if we wanted to. The way Mark told it, all they had to eat in Haven was fish. Yech! I hate fish unless maybe I’m really hungry or the fish is made out of salmon.

  During the next day everybody got ready to leave by packing up everything they possibly could. They even planned to take some of the big machines with them. It was a lot of work but eventually we got everything ready.

  When I said goodbye everybody gave me one of those funny pauses before Bruce said, “What do you mean ‘goodbye’.” I know it’s not nice to have fun at the expense of mentally crippled people but that was an awfully funny thing to say. I just had to laugh.

  “That’s what people say when they part company, Bruce.” He looked a little shocked so I hastened to reassure him, “You’ll be okay with all these people around, don’t even worry about it. See I packed all your favorite games right here.” I motioned to a garbage bag stacked on top of some big machine covered with other doctor looking stuff. It was his favorite machine, the one he used most when doctor working. It looked through people somehow. Once he let me play with it by using it to take pictures of my brain.“You’ll be able to make lots of new friends at Haven, and someday I’ll probably come to visit, unless I get killed or something.” Poor Bruce did not look happy.

  Tisha seemed afraid all of a sudden, “I don’t want you to go, Gideon. Aren’t we friends? We all want you to stay with us where it’s safe. Don’t you like us anymore?” Suddenly I got it, she was afraid for me because she didn’t want me to get hurt. She was also trying to manipulate me (just like a girl).

  I gave her a big hug, “I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. But I’ve gotta go a different way. I wouldn’t fit in a place like Haven. Not yet, but someday maybe. They would all call me names, and I could never be myself like I am around you.”

  Dr. Summer said, “You have to come with us, Gideon. It’s not right for you to be alone. It’s not healthy for you. We can help. We will help.” I gave her a big hug too, and said I would go with them.

  Later on that night, after everybody else was asleep, I made my way downstairs to the doors. I was surprised to find Mr. Run waiting for me.

  He said, “I knew you were leaving, Gideon. I just wanted to say thank you one last time. We’re all going to miss you, but I know you don’t really have a choice. You saved me. You saved us all. You’re only a child, but there’s something else in you, too. I don’t know how to explain it.” Then he shook my hand like an adult. My hand came away with a fake plastic syringe, my favorite playing peace, the green one. Mr. Run continued, “Now you have to find your way back to us, Gideon. How else can we play Find the Cure?”

  After that Tracer and I left the hospital. Tracer cried a little but I didn’t. I pedaled us back to that old gas station which Mr. Run and I had used as an overnight camp a while back. I still had a few things there I wanted (candy bars mostly). There was a car parked out front which hadn’t been there before, an older model. Once I pulled up at a distance, Tracer gave me the ‘bad human’ look that he has.

  From there on I went into stealth mode. I snuck around the place, looking for any sign of trouble but came up empty. I decided the most fun hiding spot would be the backseat of the new car. As I slipped into the vehicle I noticed that it had been hot wired, a sloppy job done by someone either lacking in skill or in a big hurry. Sleep came quickly. I was certain Tracer would awaken me if anything interesting happened, and sure enough, he did.

  Early the next morning, with the
glory of the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon, the thug that got away came limping out of the gas station. It was like a gift from God, the way he came to me. He was using an old lamp stand as a walking stick while he made his way over to the car I was in. On his back he had the little backpack I’d prepared for him. It was stuffed to overflowing with bottled water and my candy bars. I noticed all that in the side view mirror.

  I decided to have a little fun and motioned for Tracer to be still. He went quiet as a hunter while we awaited our prey. The thug got behind the wheel and reached down to start it up. That’s when I struck.

  I popped up from the backseat like a demonically possessed doll and wrapped my garrote around his neck in a flash (I’ve always carried a garrote in the wrist band of my watch, Uncle insisted). The exciting part was when I knew I had him, and he knew it too. Just an instant before he died I twisted his head so he could see my happy smiling face in the rear view mirror. I’d like to think my laughter comforted him as he was carried away into Hell’s vast, eternal night.

  With a joy filled heart I took his pack and went back to where I’d hidden my bike. As I pedaled us away from the new dawn, I remember singing, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the bible tells me so...”

  Chapter 7

  A month or so later I found myself slinking around the streets of Christopherton. My big plan had been to slip in and pick up some more bullets for my favorite guns (I was still pretty low on ammunition). Things hadn’t gone so well. Christopherton was the opposite of Atlanta, it was full to bursting with the undead, and none of them were shy. Even the common zombies seemed to have a bit more zip in their step, a bit more focus to their hunting. I was hard pressed to keep ahead of them. Without Tracer I wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  Eventually I gave the mob the slip and took shelter in a market. Markets are one of my favorite hiding spots, but I really have to think ahead to end up there. Sometimes, when being hunted, I find myself cornered in chancy places and have a heck of a time sneaking away. The trick is to know when the tide had turned and to not fight it. That’s how I leave myself enough space to work with. The plan was to lead my pursuers on a merry chase and then ditch them, leaving me enough time to reach the place I really wanted to get to. But if I ditched them too far from my prospective hiding spot, there was a good chance another one of them would come along and spot me before I made it to safety. It’s like a kind of fine balancing act with gnashing teeth and spilled brains.

  But that time I thought I was in luck. The moaning horde was at least a block away and around a corner. Tracer was looking at me with his most sincere warning expression but I thought it was all about what was coming up from behind. Turned out the problem was on the other side of that door.

  No sooner had it opened than a giant of a man reached out to snag me. That’s never good. The only thing that saved me from getting grabbed was years of training and a general physical superiority. That, and I was still short.

  I pulled back in time to see the big man wasn’t alone. With him was a twenty something black haired girl holding a .45. I could tell right away, by how closely she stood to the big guy, that she loved him. He was real old so I got the vibe that she was his daughter. Also, standing back just a bit, there was another old guy, maybe thirty, with and old woman, no doubt his wife. They were both holding onto a little boy, maybe nine years old. Just one look and I could tell the kid was one of those lucky few who walk around happy all the time. Next to them was a Chinese looking guy with a terror stricken cast to his features that almost made me giggle (almost). He was clearly making a conscious effort to hold it in so as to seem less of a pathetic loser to the pretty woman at his side. He liked her, I could tell. She was about as pretty as Chloe but not quite as pretty as Tisha (I’m being totally objective here). She was clueless about his attraction. Behind them I saw a black man and woman. Both in their twenties but not especially related to one another or interested in becoming so (Uncle taught me all about reading interpersonal relationships). The man was holding the hand of a little eight year old girl who looked smarter than anyone else in the room. Finally there was a little super old dude in the back, trying to see what was going on. He had a claw hammer in each hand and looked like he was ready to use them. Both hammers had their heads covered with caked on brain (I’d know that look anywhere).

  The big guy in front of me looked surprised by my escape. I asked him, “May I please come in, sir. There’s a zombie horde behind me.”

  My hand was close to Abby. If that big guy thought he was going to grab me he was going to fall back clutching a stump. Instead, he seemed surprised by my tone. He stepped back a pace, allowing Tracer and I to enter. I shut the door behind me with a certain alacrity, then turned to make introductions.

  Remembering the mistake I had made in naming Dr. Summer ‘Smarty’ I decided to get everyone’s boring name up front. I announced to the group, “Hi, I’m Gideon. What are your names?”

  The big guy just gawped at me. I could tell that when he finally got around to what passed for thought with him, he was going to treat me with contempt. His daughter might not exactly feel the same way but she’d close ranks with her old man. So I ignored them, and focused my attention on the eight year old girl. She told me, “I’m Isabella. This,” motioning to the man holding her hand, “is Avery. That,” pointing to the man and woman holding the boy, “is Mr. and Mrs. Smith and their son, Jeremy. Over there is Kim,” Isabella gestured to the scared looking guy who was trying to keep it together. “Next to him is June. Over there, behind everyone, holding the hammers, is Mr. Owen. And this,” Motioning to the woman by her side, “is Aria. The man and woman who got the door for you,” by which she meant the big man and his daughter, “are Mr. Hawk and his daughter, Janet.”

  I wanted to compliment Isabella on her clarity, “Thank you Isabella, I can tell you’re a real smarty.”

  Then I turned to the rest of them, “So, do you guys got any board games? We might be here a while, waiting for the horde to break up and wander off.”

  Mr. Hawk finally found his voice, “You lead them right to our door, you little *$%^&*.”

  I was offended. This chance meeting was beginning to look like I was maybe going to have to kill someone. I responded, “No I didn’t. Don’t be sore. If they were at the door that door would be on the floor, and you would be no more.” Rhymes can be fun if your with other human people.

  Again, he stared at me open mouthed. Again, I took the opportunity to address anyone else, “How long have you all been stuck here?” I looked around and saw the shelves had a lot of empty spaces on them.

  Avery answered, “We’ve been here since It happened. The market was almost empty of monsters when we got here. How have you survived out there? Where are you’re parents?” Wow, way to bring up a sore subject.

  “Mostly, I survive because of Tracer, here. He can sniff out zombies anywhere, can’t ya boy?” I reached down to pet him. His little tail went nuts.

  “’Zom-bees’? Is that what you call them?” asked Aria, “Why do you call them that?”

  I had to laugh, “I call them zombies because that’s what they are. That’s what everyone calls them.”

  Avery wouldn’t let it go, “Where are your parents?” The irritation I felt for him was somewhat mollified by his apparent pity.

  “I chopped their zombie brains out. They Changed and I didn’t. I gotta ask, when you didn’t see them with me and you knew I was in a city choked with the undead, where did you think they were? And before you apologize, save your breath. On some level I hope you can understand it’s a sensitive subject for me, so let’s just drop it.”

  Aria wanted to know, “What ‘everyone’? Who calls those things ‘zombies’? Who besides you, specifically?”

  Ah, Aria wanted to know about other survivors. Smart lady. I told her, “There’s some folks you might reach on shortwave. They’re in Wisconsin, very far away, but I talked to them not too long ago. They call their new place
they’re making ‘Haven’. Kinda poetic, don’t ya think?”

  Mr. Smith asked me, “Where’s the shortwave right now?”

  I said, “I left it with my bike before I snuck into town. But what it really needs to talk to people is a big antenna.”

  Mrs. Smith wanted to know, “Why did you want to sneak into Christopherton, sweety?” I could tell she thought that was the worst idea ever, and I was beginning to think she was right.

  “I was out of ammunition for my favorite guns and I hoped to find some laying around in a gun store.” I thought there would be no harm in asking, “Have any of you seen any .44 caliber ammunition laying around in a gun store?” No answers. That figured.

  June, with doubt writ large all over her pretty face, asked, “Seriously, how did a kid like you get into town without getting ripped apart? Those monsters are everywhere.”

  “Getting into town wasn’t that hard. It was all the running around after I was spotted that was the dangerous part. The zombies around here seem smarter than most.”

  June still looking skeptical, “How many towns have you been in since It happened?”

  “I dunno. A few, I guess. Atlanta most recently. I’m from Jersey. Why? You making a travel guide?”

  That got a chuckle from Mr. Smith and Avery. Mr. Hawk just said, “*$%^&*” I was beginning to think that man had vocabulary problems.

  Kim spoke up with a thick southern drawl, “Do you know a way out of this town? We’re running low on supplies and need a way out.” I almost burst out laughing. I don’t know if it makes me a bad person or not, but there was no way his accent went with his face!

  “Well, for starters, I want to congratulate you on your name. Kim is a brave choice for a boy. But to answer your question, yes and no. Yes, I know the ways out of town, how hard is that? But no, I don’t know any special way that won’t involve us going through a bunch of zombies. You need a big truck and maybe some more hammers, like that guy,” I said while pointing to Mr. Owen.

 

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