Someone was finally talking to me. “Wife and kids?” I asked.
“Actually, my Momma. She’s got dementia. Started a few years ago. After this whole undead thing started, I made my way from Mobile to take care of her. My Uncle came home as well.”
“Sorry to hear that, Ben.”
“Yeah.” Ben fiddled with his seat belt. “Sometimes she has trouble remembering things, but she can still cook. Momma sometimes forgets we’ve already eaten so she cooks again. Some days I get four or five meals.”
I couldn’t help myself, and laughed. “Sorry. Don’t mean to laugh.”
Ben laughed along with me. “It’s okay. She would want us to laugh. So, what’s the story out here? I remember the deadheads with the red eyes. They were like maniacs. I killed one in Mobile. Had to smack it about a dozen times with a two-by-four before it went down. Are they the same?”
Images from the past came up in my mind. The Red-Eyes were always the worst. You had two choices: shoot or run. “Yeah, still the same.”
Jenny chimed in from the driver’s seat. “Dead is dead. As long as you’ve got the right equipment, you can take care of them.”
I sighed. It had been a long time since these guys had seen Red-Eyes up close. “No. It’s not the same anymore.” Painful memories of days and nights when Claire and I would have to hide from the prying red orbs of multiple zombies came flooding back. Sometimes we would barely escape with our lives. “They’ve changed. Something has happened to them. They hunt now, sometimes in packs of three or more. They hide and wait in ambush for unfortunate victims to stumble upon them. They’ve become predators. The whole food chain has been turned upside-down.”
Ben and Ryan stared at me as I told my story. I could sense that they were not looking forward to any encounters with the current crop of Red-Eyes. My intent wasn’t to scare, but to warn them that it wasn’t a picnic out here.
Jenny wasn’t buying. “Yeah, well, they’re still dead. Should be no problem.”
“Right,” Ryan said. “Hit them between the eyes.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said.
We continued on our way to our first objective. Jenny had timed our trip perfectly. We were close to Safety One, our first stop. I had been nervous the whole trip. Getting close to our safe place was a relief. So far, the trip had been somewhat uneventful. Jenny had detoured around any potential trouble spots, and we were close to safety.
Then we rounded a curve and Jenny slammed on the brakes.
About half a mile ahead of where we stopped was a nightmare. A huge wreck between a tractor-trailer and several cars littered the road. The way was partially blocked, but we might have been able to get through. The problem was the group of zombies circling the pile of cars. The large group endlessly circled the accident scene in a clockwise direction, looking for food.
“Damn. What the hell is this?” Jenny said. She pulled the car into the shoulder to take a look with binoculars.
“Can we get through?” Ryan asked.
Jenny scanned the area, and then handed the binoculars to me. “What do you think, new guy?”
I put the glasses to my eyes and checked out the horrible scene. It looked to be about a hundred or so Yellow-Eyes orbiting the scene of the wreck. I spotted what had attracted them: the picked over carcass of a deer lying on the ground nearby. The zombies had been drawn to the site and simply stuck around. It was like when you drop a wad of gum and ants appear. It was a dead end. We had to find a way around.
“Looks bad. We don’t have enough ammunition,” I said.
Jenny got back in the car. “You got that right. See if there’s a way around, Ryan.”
She turned the car around as Ryan consulted his maps. He drew a red circle in the approximate location of the zombie wreck for future reference. “We can backtrack down about a mile. There’s a side road that will get us around this mess, and back to the main road.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” Jenny picked up speed.
We found the turn-off and proceeded down the road. Jenny picked up a little more speed, despite the junk scattered from curb to curb. I watched her steer the car with the ease of a stunt driver. In her capable hands, our plain-vanilla sedan danced across the road.
“Just a few miles,” Ryan said. “There is going to be a right turn back to the main road around the wreck.”
Jenny didn’t answer. She just looked nervously in the rear-view mirror.
“You might want to slow down, Jen,” Ryan said. “The turn is coming up soon.”
“I can’t slow down,” Jenny said, in a flat monotone.
“Why can’t you slow down?” I asked. I was beginning to get a little nervous. Something didn’t feel right.
She quickly looked over her shoulder at the road behind her, then back at the road ahead. “We’re being followed.”
Ryan, Ben, and I turned in unison to look out the large back window of the car. About fifty feet or so behind us, and gaining, was a white truck. It was weaving back and forth through the wreckage and coming towards us.
“Damn,” Jenny said. She pressed harder on the accelerator. The car underneath us responded with an all-American roar and picked up speed. We watched as the truck behind us matched us in speed and began to catch up.
Jenny was concentrating on the road. She was trying to keep our pursuers from catching us and keep us from crashing into abandoned traffic on the road. “How many in the truck?”
I looked quick. I could make out two men in the cab. They moved back and forth as the truck swerved through the wreckage. “Looks like two. They don’t look happy, either,” I answered.
Jenny was struggling with the car. It wasn’t designed for this kind of driving. The tires squealed as we ran. Ryan started to put the window down. “I’m going to shoot out a tire,” he said, getting his rifle ready.
Ben and I looked at each other. Ryan had seen too many TV cop shows. The chance of him hitting a tire at this speed was marginal at best. At the very least, Ryan would waste ammunition shooting at a moving target.
And these guys just might shoot back.
“Not a good idea,” Jenny said, above the sound of the car. “It’s a moving target.”
Ryan looked at her like she was nuts. He looked out the rear window. “So what the hell do we do?”
“I’m going to try and outrun them. Their truck isn’t actually made for this kind of pursuit. Maybe they’ll crash or something.” Jenny squeezed some more speed out of the car. We were now flying through the wrecks. Piles of cars and car parts zipped past my window.
We flashed past our turn. “That was the road back to the main,” Ryan said. “I don’t think they’re going to give up.” A quick glance backward confirmed Ryan’s fears. Our adversaries were still hanging on, but they weren’t gaining anymore. It began to look like we might get through this nightmare.
“Crap!” Jenny exclaimed, as she turned the wheel violently to the left. A large truck tire lying on its side appeared in our windshield. The car responded, but we glanced off the tire. The car shuddered with the hit, but Jenny somehow managed to maintain control.
The truck chasing us was not so lucky. I watched as it hit the tire nearly head-on. It rolled over the tire, and nearly tipped over onto its side as it crashed down. The truck took a sharp ninety-degree turn and stopped. It receded quickly as we sped away.
Ben couldn’t contain his excitement. “Damn! You were right Jen.” He gave me a celebratory slap on the shoulder. “Son-of-a-bitch! Jen was right. The bastards crashed.”
I think I was about to turn blue. I realized that for the most of the chase, I had been holding my breath. Jenny gathered some more speed. “Well, I’m not sticking around. Let’s find a place to hide.”
We drove for a few more miles until we found a place to hide out for a while. Jenny made a quick U-turn and found a spot near an overturned tractor-trailer full of formerly new cars. She stopped the car, and we got out and hid among the wreckage with weapons and binocul
ars ready. Our car was neatly hidden behind the wrecked truck, a perfect ambush point if our friends in the white truck decided to make an appearance.
We sat and waited a few moments to see if the bad guys and their truck would show up. We heard nothing but the bugs in the grass and the birds overhead.
Ryan, Ben, and Jenny pointed their rifles down the road toward where our pursuers might come up the road. I didn’t have a rifle, just a handgun, so I sat nearby, watching for anything that might walk up and surprise us. I glanced at Jenny, our hero driver. She stared intently down the barrel of her rifle. Her hair had come a little undone from its ponytail, and a few stray wisps of fiery red hair were waving around in the slight spring breeze. A tough, no-nonsense expression was riveted to her face under her glasses.
“That was some fancy driving, Jenny. Where did you learn how to drive like that?” I asked.
Without taking her eyes off the road, Jenny said, “My father was a hobbyist race car driver. He taught me a lot of stuff. He really wanted a son to follow in his footsteps, but all he got was a daughter.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think he would be very proud of you today.”
Jenny looked down at me, and her face softened a bit. Not quite a smile, but it wasn’t the scowl I usually got. “Maybe you’re right, new guy. I hope so.”
“You can call me John.”
Jenny smirked. “Okay…John. Ready to go to Safety One?”
I was past ready. I had been ready all day for Safety One. ”Ready.” Jenny grasped my hand and helped me up.
She rounded up Ben and Ryan, and we all got in the car. Jenny pulled the car out of our hiding place. We took it slow, so as not to antagonize anyone else. The white truck had disappeared, leaving only a chunk of plastic grill behind. Jenny found the turn back to the main road. We were a little behind schedule, and Safety One waited.
Chapter 11
Safety One
The rest of the trip went quietly.
Jenny drove slowly and carefully to the main road. She stopped every few miles or so to take a look. We thought that maybe the guys in the white truck might have had some friends. We didn’t want another chase.
The glancing blow with the tire had damaged the car a little. A few black lines were now scrawled on the bottoms of the doors, and the metal was pockmarked with little dents. We were lucky. Jenny could have hit the tire, destroying the car and us. Thank God she had some skills behind the wheel. A great thing to have in a world where you may have to run for your life.
Our little shortcut took us to the main road, a few miles from the accident that had blocked our way. Having to go around the blockage and the chase had cost us some time. We were now a little late and would have to spend less time at Safety One to stay on schedule. Jenny turned onto the main road, and picked up a little speed. “We’re close. Start looking for the sign,” she said.
Ben and Ryan started scanning the road for something. “There it is,” said Ryan. “On the right, Jen.” We passed a broken-down mall sign with about twenty names of stores on it. Jenny turned right at the next driveway.
And straight into hell.
The wreckage was particularly bad in the mall’s parking lot. Besides the usual cars and trucks, there were quite a few bodies on the ground. Fire had broken out among the wreckage and had scorched much of the parking lot debris. Jenny had to slowly pick her way through the carnage, giving me an up-close and personal view. In some places, the bones of the dead had really piled up.
“This mall must have seen a bad swarm,” Jenny said, with a tinge of sadness and fear in her voice. “It was much worse before we cleaned it out. Once in a while, a few deadheads come back. I hope it’s clear over by Safety One.”
We picked our way through the piles of rusty metal to a block of stores at the back of the mall. Jenny pulled into a spot hidden by a few wrecked cars and trucks. She parked our car so that it looked like part of the wreckage. “We’re here,” she said.
I got out and took my first look at Safety One. It was an unremarkable ex-ice cream parlor next to a store that used to sell young and hip women’s clothes. The glass had been shattered in the area and the contents of several of the stores had spilled into the lot. Mannequins, smiles frozen on their faces, still posed in the windows.
“What do you think?” Ben asked.
It was perfect. A broken sign that said “Ice Cream” hung above the door. The windows were stained with a little brown grime, and debris from the mall covered the walkway in front of the door. The place looked dead and gone. It was a great place to hide for a while. Ryan and Ben got a few supplies from the car, and we began to walk to the front door. That’s when I heard a noise from the busted-up cars around us.
It was a low growl.
I stopped in my tracks. The rest of the crew kept walking. Jenny noticed that I had stopped, and asked, “What’s up, John?”
I looked around for the source of the growl. “I thought I heard something.”
Now I had them stopped as well. We froze in place and listened. The only sound was the wind, blowing through the broken stores of the mall and the automotive remains in the parking lot. I began to doubt my zombie-addled mind. Maybe it was my imagination.
“Must have been the wind. I don’t hear anything,” Jenny said, walking ahead of me. “That, or maybe the new guy has been on the road too long.” Ben and Ryan shared a laugh at my expense.
Maybe I was going crazy. I rubbed my eyes for a few seconds to try and focus. Jenny was right. I have been traveling too long. The noise I heard was probably in my mind.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
As we approached the door, about half a dozen Yellow-Eyes began to exit the broken stores around Safety One. They stumbled out and began to shamble in our direction. Some looked a bit fresher than others, so they moved a little quicker. In the space of a few minutes, we were partially surrounded.
A plan of action developed. Ben, Ryan, and Jenny were in a triangle formation with me in the middle. Ben and Ryan dropped the supplies and raised their rifles. Jenny raised hers, as well. They began to get targets. To prevent getting accidentally shot, I retreated a bit out of the way and drew my gun. A little girl zombie and a taller teen-age version fixed their sickly yellow eyes in my direction and began to trot toward me at full speed. I prepared for battle. At the same time, the sounds of our first shots began to echo off the walls of the dead mall.
Ryan fired wildly in the general direction of the Yellow-Eyes. He managed to drop one, but he emptied half his magazine. Ben took out two with his rifle and scope and careful shooting. Jenny fired, but missed and caught her target in the knees. The zombie went down in a heap nearby clutching at the ground. That left my two.
I aimed and fired at the teen-ager first. I caught her in the forehead, and she went down after a few more steps. I stepped back a bit and aimed at the little girl. She had picked up a little speed and was coming in hot. Green foam dripped from her grimacing face, and her bright yellow eyes went wide as she ran towards me. I fired, but missed and hit her in the shoulder. It slowed her down, but she stayed on her feet. The little deadhead began to screech. I aimed to fire again. This time, I had to hit her, as I wouldn’t get another chance.
I started to pull the trigger. As I watched through my sights, the little girl zombie’s head exploded. She gurgled a bit, then fell to her knees. After a few seconds, she crumpled to the ground face down. Ben ran over and grabbed my shoulder. “You okay?”
His well-placed shot had taken the zombie out. “Yeah. Nice shot.”
Ben beamed. “Sorry. She was getting a little close.”
The little girl zombie was at our feet. Her red shirt and jeans were splattered with gore and dried blood. Ben turned her over to see her face. Green liquid leaked from her eyes and mouth. As I watched, her eyes slowly went gray.
“Damn,” Ben said. “How old do you think she is? Ten, eleven years old?”
I looked at her young face. I tried to ima
gine her in life, running around, worrying about school and summer vacation. The kids were always the worst. They shouldn’t have to go through this and become monsters.
“Younger,” I said. “Too young.”
“Let’s get inside before more of the damn things show up,” Jenny said, dispatching the zombie she had shot in the leg. She ran to the front door, and fished a key out of her pocket.
We hurried inside before the rest of the Yellow-Eye army showed up. Jenny ushered us inside, then she piled a little debris in front of the door as a diversion. It looked like no one was inside. After a few scans of the parking lot, she came inside, locking the door on her way.
It must have been a hip place in the old days. Neon tubes covered all the walls. The wallpaper was a crazy silver-black color that managed to give me a slight headache. It must have been a colorful place before the end came. Most of the tables and chairs were pushed to the walls or piled in the corners of the store. It left an open space in the center. The ice cream counter and register still stood at the back wall. I found a dusty sign on the wall that bragged about fifty flavors like “Cocoanut Dream” and “Bubble Gum Chunk.” I started to feel a little nostalgic for an ice cream cone. It had been a long time.
Ben directed me to a back room. “Check this out.” He opened a door to a small storage room filled with supplies. “We found the place a few months ago. The glass was intact, but the door was wide open. Jen found the keys in the office. We cleaned out the deadheads and the bodies, filled it with supplies, and we had Safety One. It’s a nice little bunker from all the bad stuff out here, huh?”
I took a look around. There was food, water, ammo, fuel, and sleeping supplies. There was even hygiene and personal toiletries. Medical supplies were neatly stacked on another shelf. For the car, there was a box of auto parts. A selection of automotive fluids graced a shelf nearby. “You guys thought of everything.” “Well, you never know what you’re going to need,” Jenny said, as she brought a few lanterns out of the storeroom. Ryan followed with our lunch: a carton full of canned food and bottled water.
Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community Page 9