“What kind of facility?” My head began to spin.
“This is a old National Guard compound. It was shut down, but the buildings and fences remained. We came in here, turned on the power, and cleaned it up. You and Claire are in the medical building. It can be turned into a quarantine by setting the locks up. They can be set to only work from the outside, or by using cards. Perfect for keeping soldiers and civilians exposed to chemical, biological, or nuclear attacks isolated from other people.” He waved his arms at the walls. “I guess they didn’t count on using it in a zombie apocalypse though. The whole compound is known by the number 66, or Double-Six.”
My head hurt. It was a lot to take in at once. “Who are you? How do you fit in to all this?”
Odegard swallowed. “I was Wallace’s Atlanta contact… essentially an assistant. I was supposed to set up his computer networks and communications. I lived in Atlanta with my wife, so I got the job.” He laughed a little.
I started to get dressed. I ripped the plastic off the new black T-shirt and threw it on the bed along with my pants and jacket. “Got caught up in it all, huh?”
“Yeah. Me and my wife had to evacuate with Wallace and the army as Atlanta went up in flames. The last thing I saw was the Air Force firebombing the city, trying to cut off the reanimates.”
I stopped dressing for a minute. I had my own firebombing memories. I remembered the stink of burning flesh and gasoline as the area around my home was bombed. That was the exact moment I knew I would never find my Gia. I forced the images in my mind to go away. “Wallace was here earlier. He asked me to join him and his homemade army.”
Odegard started to fidget in the chair. “Yeah. He has been sending patrols into the dead zones to find volunteers to help him. Most of the survivors we brought back didn’t work out.” He trailed off.
“Didn’t work out? What do you mean?” I finished dressing and started pulling on my boots.
Odegard stared into space. “They had been fighting to survive too long. They were road weary, or too sad. Most of them had gone a little crazy with stress. They weren’t fit.”
“You said I wasn’t fit when you saw me for the first time.” Wallace and his crew had given me new laces for my boots. That was nice of them.
Odegard sipped his water. “I was trying to buy you some time. When you came in, he said you were perfect. You were the one.”
I stood, shocked at what he said. “The one?”
“Yeah. He told me he saw something in you. You were not an ordinary survivor. There was something different about you. You had a need to survive. He really wanted you to join him. Wallace said you could make a difference.”
I tied up my boots and sat down. “Join him? For a suicide run, against the undead?”
Odegard looked me in the eyes. There was a lot of sadness in his gaze. “To him, it’s not suicide. Wallace thinks he’s doing something good. Maybe it’s a way to go out fighting.”
“If your his assistant, why should I trust you’ll get us out of here?”
Odegard stood up and began to fumble in his pocket. “You just have to trust me. I’ve had enough. It’s time to end all this. Wallace keeps bringing people in, and destroying them. I’m sick of it. First time I’ve taken a stand on anything.” He pulled a handgun and some extra ammo out of his pocket. I thought for a second he was going to hold me at gunpoint, but he put it on the table. “I couldn’t get any of your weapons back. This gun will have to do.” He slid the gun and ammo towards me on the table. It was smaller than the one I gave up. “Wallace is manipulative and he’s got some bad wiring. He’ll use your friend as your weakness. He’ll get you to do things as he threatens her. He’s good at that. Things aren’t so great here at Double-Six. We have maybe three weeks of food, water, and fuel left. After that, his men will turn on him. Most of them weren’t in the army anyway. They’re just a bunch of guys we found on the road. Wallace promised them food, guns, and liquor… and women if we could find any.”
We started for the door to retrieve Claire. “Do you have a plan?” I asked.
Odegard opened the door. A cool breeze from the hallway washed over me. “I’ve been in contact with some people on the outside. Some survivors trying to make it in a sub-division up the road.” We started walking down the hallway. Odegard stopped at the door two rooms away from mine. “They’ve sent a van. It’s waiting right now outside the compound. We have to hurry.”
“They sent a van,” I said. “What stops your boss from getting into his former-UN truck with it’s handy big-ass machine gun and following Claire and I to this sub-division?”
Odegard smiled. “You’ll be relatively safe. We traded some weapons for food with these people, and Wallace is afraid of them now. I don’t think he’ll risk any more of his men. He watches everybody out there outside the gates, but tries not to engage unless necessary.” He adjusted his glasses. “At least, that’s my theory, anyway. I’ll make it look like an escape. Wallace will probably lose interest in you and move on to something else. You’ll be okay.” He didn’t sound so sure of himself.
Odegard led me to Claire’s room as quietly as possible. He produced a small card and slid it into the lock, which beeped. As he started to let himself into the room. I stopped him. “You better let me go first. She’s liable to kill you.”
Odegard looked doubtful. “Really? She’s so little. Probably asleep as well.”
I went around him and let myself in the room. “Trust me.”
Claire’s room was an exact copy of mine, right down to the same brand of television. It was very dark, except for a small lamp on the table. Claire was on the bed with a sheet covering her. I approached with caution. I had taught Claire to sleep lightly. It was an essential skill, what with man-eating zombies walking around.
“Claire. Are you awake?” I got near the bed. Her breathing was slow and steady. Claire was in a deep sleep, or at least she was pretending to sleep. I touched her shoulder to wake her up.
In a flash, Claire jumped off the bed, fully dressed and ready to go. She knocked me to the floor, and kneeled on my chest. She stared down at me with the eyes of an animal. Beads of sweat rolled off her forehead. She pinned me down and put a cold, sharp object to my neck. Claire had a secret knife of her own.
Before she could cut my throat from ear to ear, I said, “Claire! It’s me, John.”
She got off my chest, then threw her arms around me. “John! Thank God. This place is nuts. Wallace came in here saying all kinds of crazy crap. I think we’re in trouble.”
I got off the floor. ”I know. Odegard is going to show us the way out,” I said, nodding behind me.
Claire looked at the now very pale Odegard and said, “Can we trust him?”
“I guess so. He knows some people. They sent a van.”
Claire grabbed her backpack, and the three of us hurried out of her room. Odegard took the lead and took us down the long black-and-white tiled hallway. There were no guards; we were the only people in the hallway. We got to the end of the building. Odegard stopped at a door marked with an exit sign. It was the way out.
“This is it,” Odegard said. “This door leads to the compound. Follow the concrete path to a break in the fence. It leads to a gravel access road. At the end of that road, they’ll be waiting for you.” He lowered his voice and added, “I hope.”
Claire and I looked at each other. Odegard didn’t sound so sure of his plan. “Do you want to come with us?” Claire asked.
Odegard adjusted his glasses. It was his nervous habit. “No. My wife…she’s very sick. I think she’s dying and can’t be moved. I can’t leave her. Now, you guys have to go. Just follow the concrete path to the fence. You’ll see the break. Follow the road to the end. They’ll be there waiting for you. Don’t worry about any guards. Nobody patrols the compound anymore.” He put his hand out. “Good luck.”
I shook his outstretched hand. “Thanks. Good luck to you too.” Odegard swiped his card to pop the lock and opened the doo
r. A blast of Southern spring humidity came inside. I smelled the wet grass and early morning dew. Claire and I walked outside, leaving Odegard behind. He shut the door.
We were on our own. I drew the handgun Odegard had given me. “Ready, kiddo?”
Claire looked around nervously. “Yeah. Let’s go.” She clenched her fists. “Wish I had my bat.”
“Yeah. I wish you had your bat, too.”
We found the concrete path and started following it to the distant fence. Odegard was right. There were no guards. Claire and I didn’t run, but we walked with purpose. After a few minutes of walking, we reached the fence. A few seconds of searching revealed a hole cut into the chain-link, hidden by some landscaping. I took a quick look beyond the fence. A gravel trail, about ten feet wide, curved off away from the fence into the woods.
The woods, where Red-Eye zombies could be watching.
The sky was getting lighter, but sunrise was still a bit away. Even though it was early dawn, the zombies still had the advantage. Claire and I knew that walking around at night was dangerous. Any number of monsters could be waiting on our gravel road to freedom. We were going to have to chance it.
Claire went first through the hole. Due to her small size, she had no problem shimmying through the break. I had a little more trouble. Despite our starvation diet, it was a tight fit. It took me a little time to get through the hole. Claire put her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.
We started down the gravel road as quickly as we could. The rough stones made loud crunching noises under our feet as we ran. To my ears, it sounded loud enough to alert every zombie in the immediate area. Every hundred feet or so,we stopped to listen to our environment. A breeze kicked up and began to move the trees and underbrush around. There were other noises, too. Crickets and small frogs in the underbrush. We put our heads down and kept running.
Then the crickets and frogs stopped making noise.
The gravel path went as silent as a tomb. Claire and I froze in place. All at once, it seemed that the woods were alive with the sounds of creatures moving around. Dark shapes followed us in the shadows, and we caught the sound of low growls. We were being hunted. We began to run faster to the end of the road. The gravel path ended at a country road. Claire and I looked around, but there was no van waiting for us. I looked both ways on the road, but saw no one. We were alone, facing an unknown number of zombies in the woods. I looked back down the gravel path, toward the fence. About fifty feet away, a Red-Eye crossed the path. It paused for a second to stare at us with twin glowing eyes. After a few seconds of heavy glancing, it melted into the brush beside the road and continued hunting us.
Claire and I were about to become zombie chow.
“They’re not here. What do we do?” Claire asked, breathing hard.
Before I could answer, something grabbed Claire and pulled her into the brush. Her scream was cut short as I heard her hit the ground. Without thinking, I dove into the damp weeds after her.
Chapter 7
A Bumpy Ride
Claire disappeared into the weeds beside the road. She barely had time to scream.
I went in after her. I pushed through the wild grasses and clinging vines and found Claire struggling on the ground with a large human-shaped being on top of her. In the early dawn light, I couldn’t tell if this person was alive or dead. I would have to see their eyes. Not waiting for whatever it was to notice me, I went on the attack.
I hurried over and grabbed the dark shape trying to kill Claire around the neck. We rolled on the ground for a bit, with me winding up on top. I drew my gun and jabbed it into the specter’s neck. As prepared to pull the trigger, a human voice said, “Wait! Wait! Don’t shoot!”
It wasn’t a zombie that had grabbed Claire. I pulled my gun away and let the mystery person off the ground. A heavy-set man, maybe in his mid-thirties, got to his feet in front of me. He was wearing jeans and a camo shirt and jacket. An automatic rifle was slung across his chest. He flexed his shoulder in pain. “Geez. Going to feel that in the morning. Sorry ‘bout the drama. My name is Mitch.” He extended his hand.
I ignored him, and went to Claire. She was just getting off the ground. I helped her up and brushed her off. “You okay?”
She was breathing hard, with a slight wheeze. “I’m fine. Mitch here tripped and fell.” She knelt down to catch her breath. “Knocked the wind out of me.”
Mitch came up beside me. “Oh, man. I’m sorry.” He scratched his head. “Don’t know my own strength sometimes, I guess.”
“Are you supposed to pick us up?” I shook Mitch’s hand.
“Yeah. The Deadheads were circling, so they dropped me off with the heavy hardware.” He tapped the rifle on his chest. “My associates moved to a more secure location. I’ll signal them to come back.”
Deadheads. That was a new nickname for the undead. Hadn’t heard that one before.
Mitch ran out to the edge of the road and produced a small flashlight. He pointed it down the road and waved it around vigorously. He must have got an answer, because he ran back almost immediately. “Okay, they’re on the way.”
The moaning and growls of the zombies in the woods were getting louder and closer. “They better hurry. Bad things are coming,” I said.
Several agonizing minutes later, I heard an internal combustion engine coming towards us at high speed. Mitch turned to Claire and I and said, “Here they come. Let’s get to where they can see us.”
We moved out of the weeds and stood on the side of the road. I was not feeling good about our situation. We were standing in the open in the increasing light of morning. In the distance, about half a mile away, I could make out two headlights coming our way. Behind us, I could sense the Red-Eyes were sizing things up and getting ready to attack.
“Here they come. Fastest vehicle we have. We made a few modifications,” Mitch said with pride. As he spoke, an orange full-size van came into view. It slid to a stop in front of us. Mitch ran up to the siding side door and yanked it open. “Okay, guys. All aboard.”
Claire and I hurried into the dark van, unsure of what was going to happen next. I got in, and Mitch had started to climb aboard when something horrible stepped up behind him. It was two hungry Red-Eyes, hunched over and foaming at the mouth.
“Mitch! Get in the van!” I yelled. He started to climb into the vehicle. He had gotten halfway in when the zombies attacked and grabbed him. They started to pull him outside.
We were now in a fight for our lives.
The van began to rock back and forth as the battle raged at the sliding door. I grabbed Mitch’s right arm and shoulder, but the zombies had him by the legs. There were a least three of them, and they were pretty strong. Mitch’s eyes went wide. Claire grabbed me about the waist to keep me inside the van. The door was a mass of human and zombie appendages.
I heard a female voice come from the driver’s seat of the van. “Ryan! Shoot the ugly bastards!”
As I struggled to keep to keep Mitch in the van, I heard a few shots go off. They were not effective. I heard a male voice from the front. “Dammit! Can’t get a shot!”
“Go outside and shoot,” the female voice said.
“I’m not going out there. The place is swarming,” the male voice answered.
While the two people in the front of the van argued strategy, I began to lose the battle to the zombies. There was just too many of them, and they were too strong. They began to slowly drag Mitch to his doom, and Claire and I along with him.
Then, the inevitable happened. Mitch was nearly out the door when an unseen zombie outside sank its teeth into his arm. Mitch let out a blood-curdling scream and went limp. The gang of zombies at the door began to drag him out quicker, as I lost my grip. Mitch looked at me with panicked eyes, but he knew it was done. Another Red-Eye forced its way into the van and bit him on the neck. The bite caught his jugular and blood exploded all over me. I caught it mostly on the face and chest. The copper taste of blood tingled on my tongue. Wit
h that, Mitch was dragged, screaming from the door. At least half a dozen Red-Eyes converged on Mitch and began to feed. I slammed the door shut on the deadly scene, and collapsed to the floor of the orange van.
“Let’s go!” Claire yelled. The female driver floored the gas, ran a few zombies over, and pulled away from the gravel path.
I sat up, feeling weak and wasted. My hands, face, and chest were covered with blood. Mitch’s blood. I felt dizzy.
Claire steadied me, and we sat down on the floor. I tried to wipe the blood off. “Claire, I’m covered in blood.” I was very close to passing out. The world began to go a little dark.
Claire produced a handkerchief from her pocket and started to wipe off the blood from the battle at the door. “It’s okay, Tiger. I got it.” She put her arm around me and tried to clean me up.
All the while, the two people in the front seats argued about what happened. The female driver slammed her fists on the steering wheel, and said, “Dammit! Goddammit! We lost Mitch!” Her histrionics caused the van to weave from one side of the road to another.
“Take it easy,” her male companion said. “We did our best.” He glanced at the two of us in the back seat. “I hope they’re worth it.”
The female driver glared at us from behind the wheel. “They better be. They got Mitch killed.”
We drove up the country road, and then turned onto a main route. Claire did the best job she could in cleaning up the blood, but my shirt and jacket were still stained. During our trip, the sun finally came up and began to brighten the sky. Claire and I got our first look at our rescuers. The driver was a tall redhead with glasses. Her long hair was fastened into a ponytail. The male was a young man with a scruffy beard, who didn’t look more than twenty-five years old.
The trip was quiet with little conversation. Neither the redheaded female or her male teammate riding shotgun talked to us at all. Claire and I were quiet, as well. Several times during the trip, we thought maybe they were going to dump us on the side of the road and drive off. Thankfully, the ride continued. Our rescuers stuck to the back roads. After a few turns, we arrived at our destination. A tan stucco wall appeared at the left. A sign with the words “Cannon Fields” in large, gold, flowing script was attached to the stucco wall near a tall iron gate. A large sheet of plywood was nearby, spray-painted with a bright orange skull. Spray-painted skulls were usually bad news. They were painted by rescue crews when all they found in the houses they searched were zombies.
Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community Page 5