Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller

by Rich Restucci

  He went for his rebar, but suddenly the left side of the fireman’s head vaporized into pink mist and it collapsed. Another creature, about forty feet away, just keeled over too. The street was clear.

  Confused, Dallas started to ask what was going on when Rick showed up with the shotgun. “It’s Martinez, the rifle is suppressed!”

  “Suppressed?”

  “Yeah, like a silencer in the movies, c’mon!”

  Rick and Dallas ran up the short stairs to the door of the school and Rick keyed the mike on the radio: “Gardner, we’re here, open up!” The heavy front doors opened immediately, and a pretty woman stood there, looking scared. Rick was confused, as he seemed to know her, but couldn’t place the face.

  “Ma’am, let’s go, we have transport, but not a lot of time.”

  “Ok, c’mon kids time to go, just like we talked about!”

  The woman and kids filed out the door in an orderly line, just as the school bus roared to life. They followed Rick, and Dallas took up the rear. With the bus running, they were beginning to draw a crowd from all directions. The car alarm stopped as well, leaving the bus the only real noise in the area, aside from the moans and shrill cries of the dead.

  The woman and children stopped in their tracks when they saw that the school bus was their mode of transportation.

  “The bus!” the woman shouted, “It has one of those people on it!”

  “We cleared it, now come on!”

  Juanita called out the door, to them: “It’s safe, c’mon!” She punctuated her exclamation by gunning the engine and signaling to them with her hand. Trepidations lost, they scrambled on board after Rick, and Juanita closed the door when Dallas joined them. Juanita put the bus in reverse, and the back-up alarm started going off. There were several thuds as the bus struck random staggering dead in the street.

  “Back to the condo!” Rick yelled.

  She switched gears, and had started speeding away when she looked in the rearview mirror and spied two running forms. The brakes squealed as she stopped hard. A few kids started crying. “Behind! Ben and Lucy!” Rick checked the rear, and sure enough, two of the other three rescuers were coming down the road as fast as they could. Ben was limping, and Lucy was doing her best to help him. Rick opened the rear door of the bus and took a firing stance, but went on his ass when Juanita threw the bus into reverse and jammed her foot on the accelerator.

  There was a street-load of undead following Ben and Lucy. Every few seconds, the back of the head of one in the front would pop, and it would collapse, the others stepping over or tripping on it.

  The bus was a quarter of the way down the street and still backing up when a big 4x4 monster-truck came tooling around a corner, behind both the dead and Ben and Lucy. Juanita stopped the bus, but the truck sped up, crushing all dead in its path. A man leaned out the passenger side window and fired an automatic weapon at the bus. Holes stitched across the yellow metal, and a window blew out. Rick got on his stomach and started firing back. The truck slowed, but kept coming. “Get the kids down!” Rick screamed.

  Ben looked behind himself, and had just enough time to throw Lucy out of the way before the truck hit him rendering him into something resembling a rag doll covered in hamburger. Rick had a vision of gold teeth in the wide smile of the passenger-side gunner before the gunner’s face exploded. Half a second later, a bullet hole blossomed on the driver’s side windshield, and the truck turned violently to the left, went up on two of its massive tires, and flipped on its side. The screams of the remaining passengers were lost in a cacophony of rending metal. Men flew from the back of the truck like leaves from a tree.

  Lucy must have injured herself when Ben tossed her, because she wasn’t making good time, and was hobbling and holding her knee, using a baseball bat as a crutch. The dead were closing fast. Rick started firing at the dead, and at the same time some of the men from the truck started getting up, most with injuries. One of them pointed his rifle at the bus, but grabbed at his chest and fell on his back. Another started getting up only to have his head pop. Martinez was excellent at his job.

  Rick leapt from the back of the bus, Dallas close behind, and both started running toward Lucy. It took mere moments to realize that the dead would reach her before they would. Rick heard gunfire from his left, and felt a tug in his calf. Suddenly he couldn’t run correctly, and he had a nasty starboard list. He turned to look at who was firing when he heard a loud BOOM from close behind him. Dallas had ended the gunman with a shotgun blast.

  Lucy looked over her shoulder, seeing for the first time how close the approaching horde of undead truly was. She let out a quick scream, which seemed to fuel the single-minded cravings of the creatures behind her. Some of the things dropped as Martinez kept up his onslaught, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Lucy looked at Rick and Dallas and screamed, “Run!”

  They got within a hundred feet from Lucy when the first of the dead wave reached her. Rick continued to hobble toward her, but Dallas grabbed him. “No! We ain’t gonna make it in time!”

  Rick struggled to get free, but Dallas was holding him firmly by the shirt. “No! Hoss, we gotta go!”

  Clammy hands closed on Lucy’s shoulder, and she spun, swinging the bat. She connected with the arm of a former sales clerk, WENDY on the name tag. The forearm snapped, but Wendy didn’t mind. Lucy fought like a cornered wolverine, but there were too many. The bat thumped home again, and again, but got entangled in the mass of dead around her. A skinny man in stained hospital scrubs grabbed her arm and bit deeply into her hand. She yanked her arm away and struggled with another zombie before she fell. The dead nurse fell on Lucy, and she tried to stop it from biting her again when she felt something hit her in the head. She had a microsecond to wonder what it was, and she knew no more.

  “Let’s move!” Dallas pulled Rick toward the bus. To add emphasis, the bus’s horn sounded.

  Defeated, Rick turned and limped back to the bus as fast as he could. The undead seemed to be coming out of the woodwork, and weren’t just behind them anymore. There were sizable forces coming from all directions. The bus backed toward them and they boarded quickly. Juanita gunned the accelerator, and the vehicle shot forward. The kids were crying loudly now, and the woman from the school was doing her best to console them.

  Dull thuds were felt as well as heard, as the heavy school bus ran down sporadic dead. Their numbers were becoming less meager, however, and a throng of them were coming from behind and to the left.

  The bus screeched to a halt outside of the condo where Chris and Martinez were sniping, and they exited the building rapidly. The doors pulled open as the pair rounded the front of the bus, and they jumped in, running up the three steps. Juanita stomped the gas pedal.

  Martinez sat in one of the green seats, his rifle held in front of him, barrel up. He put his head on his wrists and closed his eyes.

  “He had to,” said Chris as he watched the school shrink in the distance.

  Dallas put his hand on Martinez’s shoulder. “You done her a kindness son, never forget that. And you saved a buncha kids, and me n’ him to boot.” Dallas thumbed at Rick.

  “Did I?” Martinez kept his head down.

  The woman from the school approached the men in the front seats. “Thank you all so much for helping us,” she said. “We didn’t have much food left, and the kids were scared.”

  Rick looked up at her. “You look familiar, have we met?”

  “I don’t know, you look like someone I know too. Are you from San Francisco?”

  Light dawned on Rick. “Are you a flight attendant?”

  The woman looked confused. “Yes, yes I am, how did you know that?”

  Rick smiled. “Debbie?”

  “Yes! Who are you?”

  “You looked after my daughter on a flight from Boston last week.”

  “Sam! I remember, you picked her up!” Her face dropped, “Oh my God, where is she?”

  “She’s on Alcatraz, which is where we�
�re headed.”

  Relief flooded through her. “What was your name again, I’m so sorry I can’t remember.”

  Rick stuck his hand out. “Rick Barnes.”

  12

  Doc Murda raged. He flew around the warehouse loft knocking things over as he fumed. One of his soldiers watched nervously, his fears coming true as Murda suddenly ran up and kicked him in the balls. The man doubled over and Murda punched him in the back of the neck. In a fetal position on the floor, he tried in vain to protect himself as Murda kicked him over and over.

  “How could this happen?” he screamed. “How did you let them get away? Was there a part of the plan that was unclear?”

  “They g-got there first!”

  “Excuses! You would dare?”

  “But…”

  Murda pulled his 9mm and shot the man seven times, shaking his head as his former follower’s life drained away.

  “My apologies. Your orders were simple. All you had to do was get me the children. I am not accustomed to failure, and yours was monumental.” Shrugging his shoulders, he looked up at Pee Wee and Masta G, who had watched the scene play out without comment. “It’s so hard to find good help these days.”

  Murda spun on his heels and sat at a desk, spreading a map before him as he nodded. “We’ll hit them in the morning. I want them to know we are coming as well.” Masta G raised an eyebrow and looked at Pee Wee, but Pee Wee just stood there with his tree-trunk arms folded, looking disinterested.

  “I will spread fear like a new plague. They thought the dead were terrifying? Wait until I’m finished. We will spare few, but we will make them all think that surrender is an option. I want female prisoners, but eliminate the men.”

  “What about the kids?” asked G.

  “The children have already been polluted by the filth of the police and their ilk. There can be no redemption. It pains me, but they must be sacrificed as well. We will find new minds to mold, and our army will grow and we will prosper. Masta G, if you would be kind enough to lend me the Colonel’s radio? I would like to inform our neighbors that their doom has been sealed.”

  G unclipped the military walkie-talkie and handed it to Murda, who set it down on the map. Murda walked to the edge of the loft and looked down on his people. Masta G and Pee Wee flanked him, standing slightly behind in clear deference.

  “Citizens of the new world!” he yelled, “I took you in and sheltered you from the greatest plague in history! I provided you with weapons and ammunition! Food, water, and pleasurable company!”

  At this, cheering started from below, and some of the men hooted and grabbed their crotches, pointing at four chained and naked women on one wall of the warehouse.

  “The time has come for us to cleanse a different plague, one that has been with us for many years! We will make those who used to be in charge bow to us! We will no longer succumb to their traditions and laws! We will purify this country, starting with San Francisco! Starting with Alcatraz! No quarter will be asked, and none will be given! Kill them all, save a few females for our amusement! I ask only that you fight, my brothers, and revel in the slaughter. Our weapons and our will shall be the chisels that carve the future of our nation, and we shall make Alcatraz our new capital!”

  As with many of Doc Murda’s motivational speeches, the desired effect was acquired. The warehouse went absolutely crazy with rage and pent frustrations. Some weapons were fired in the air, and several of the men began to use the chained concubines in full view of the entire building.

  The cheering went on for a full minute before Murda raised his hands for silence. “Please brothers, contain yourselves lest we bring down the wrath of the plagued. The time for revelry is almost at hand, but let us first win this battle.” The place quieted down, and the occupants of the building could hear muffled pounding on the warehouse doors.

  “We will need to dispatch our unwanted guests. Masta G, if you would please take a squad and eliminate any of the unholy? Please thin the herd from the windows if possible to minimize casualties to the troops. I wish to have the army prepared to leave at first light.”

  “Cake.” G moved off down the stairs to acquire some conscripts.

  Doc Murda returned to his desk and sat in his chair. He picked up the radio and tuned into the emergency frequency.

  “..ord form the National Guard in two days. If you can hear, but can’t transmit, do your best to escape the city in any way possible. You can also make your way to the docks, secure a boat, and get to Alcatraz. We have food and water and ammunition. If you are trapped and can transmit your location, we will try to get to you. I repeat, this is Detective Captain Michael Meara of the San Francisco Police Department transmitting from Alcatraz. The city is lost. The infected outnumber the living by large numbers. The infected seem to fear fire and water. They will turn back from most fire, and the ocean will stop them. They seem to fear nothing else, so pleading and threats are useless. The SFPD has been decimated, and there has been no word from the National Guard in two days…”

  Murda keyed the mic: “Captain Meara? I have a group of survivors with me.”

  “Who is this? Please identify yourself.”

  “My name is Doc Murda.”

  “You’re a doctor? This is excellent! Is there any way for you to get to Alcatraz?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was planning on paying you a visit tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s wonderful, how many in your party?”

  “Eighty seven…six actually,” Murda looked at the dead man on the floor, who was beginning to stir.

  “I also have word of the National Guard.”

  “Say again? Repeat that last! Did you say you have word of the Guard?

  “I did! The National Guard has been defeated. They got trapped and tried to make a last stand in a Walgreens under the Bay Bridge.”

  “Understood,” Meara replied solemnly. “Thank you for the information. It must have been rough for you to see them go down under an onslaught of dead like that.”

  “On the contrary, it was exactly what I wanted; it was almost as if I had planned it. Oh wait! I did!”

  “Say again?”

  Murda articulated his words clearly: “I said, you dumb son of a bitch, that I planned and executed an attack, using the living dead, on a fortified National Guard position. When the screaming stopped, there were three survivors on the roof of the drug store, all of whom I captured and tortured information from. One was even a colonel. The colonel’s lackey told us where a store of weapons was, which we appropriated to use on your little commune tomorrow morning. You stole something from me, and now it is forever tainted.”

  “Is this a joke? Stole something? What are you talking about?”

  “The children you oaf. The children from the school.”

  “So then that was you shooting at my people?”

  “Bingo. I’m coming to kill you, Detective Meara.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  13

  Billy searched through the cabinet, reading each bottle, and discarding the ones he didn’t want on the floor. “Nope. Nope. Nope.” There was a small mountain of bottles and packets at his feet before he found what he was looking for.

  “Any Olanzapine? Risperidone?” asked Ali.

  “Bulls eye! This is the stuff.” He opened the bottle and dropped a small blue and red capsule into his hand. He closed the bottle up and pocketed it, grabbing two more bottles as well. There were small white paper cups and a water dispenser, and Billy filled one up and swallowed the medication in one gulp.

  “Can I get a look in there, please?”

  “Yeah, but there’s some Risperidone on the floor someplace. Sorry, I didn’t know you wanted any.”

  Ali got on her knees and looked through the meds. She picked up a small packet of ampoules, and grabbed a syringe. She had no pockets, so she kept them in the hand without the gun.

  Billy sat down in one of the mesh-backed chairs. “Gotta think.” Ali sat down in the ot
her chair.

  She grabbed a microphone and pressed the button marked 2.

  “Dr Purkayastha? Can you hear me? It’s Ali, I’m in the level four wing with… my new friend. Are you there?” There was no answer.

  “He’s probably chow. They were banging on the inside of the level two wing trying to get to us, or you, anyway. He was probably one of the ones thinking of you as a chicken leg.”

  “He was nice.”

  “Yeah. Well, we need to get out of here, and I still don’t know what to do with Cyrus. Can’t leave him here, but we can’t take him either.”

  “So what’s the plan then?”

  “Well, how about we take him out of here at gun point and set him free?”

  “Won’t he kill people?”

  “Odds are he’ll be a bowel movement in a day or two anyway. Assuming those things poop. I dunno.”

  Ali smiled. “He scares me.”

  “He should. They said I was dangerous, but he’s just plain maniacal. Ok, let’s let him out. I’ll keep him in front of me, you can open the doors.” He handed her the keys.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said and stood up. Billy followed suit and they moved back to Cyrus’s cell.

  “Back so soon? Have you reconsidered my plea?”

  “Yeah. We’re gonna let you out, but you’re gonna stay in front of me at all times, and when we get outside the hospital, you’re on your own.”

  “I’ll need a weapon then, William, and some proper clothing.”

  “All your problems. I may be psychotic, but I’m not stupid. You’ll get no weapons while we’re near you.”

  “But William…”

  “Take it or leave it Cyrus, that’s the deal.”

  “Well, it seems as if I have no choice then. Fine. I accept your offer.”

  “Alrighty then, Ali open her up.”

  Ali started to try some keys, but Cyrus interrupted her. “You will need to use the button in the cage my dear. Those are security keys, and will not open this door.”