Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community

by Stephen Drivick

  The two Red-Eyes turned and began to walk outside. I was still staring at Amy, begging her silently not to cry. She was holding out as long as she could, but I could see the fear overcoming her. I turned my attention to the retreating zombies. They were almost out the window.

  Amy had held out as long as she could. I heard a small whimper as she started to cry.

  The zombies’ heads snapped around as they heard the pitiful sound. They crouched down, began the attack, and Ben and I came up shooting. Ben got the male as he tried to cross the room. He went down in a heap. The female was a little more trouble. She leaped up on a nearby table and tried to attack from above. I caught her in the neck as she jumped. I fired again, silencing her for good.

  Ben and I reloaded and went after the leader. I was burning with anger, and I believe Ben was as well. The leader was standing, looking for a place to run as we stepped outside. At first, the big ex-cop was going to fight, but decided he was outnumbered and turned to run. He didn’t get far. I shot him in the back, but it barely slowed him down.

  Ben and I didn’t let up. We ran over and cut off his escape. The pitiful creature stopped running and began to circle. He alternated between me and Ben, hissing and growling. The monster waved his arms, as he tried to scare us off.

  We surrounded the zombie and began to tighten the circle. It had no escape. It turned to me with its burning-red eyes. It decided to fight. The Red-Eye opened its mouth and let out a bellowing growl that echoed off the walls of the mall, followed by a hiss that sounded like a hundred angry cats.

  Then, the monster lowered his head and began to attack. I was his target.

  I raised my gun. “You want me? Come on, you ugly bastard,” I taunted the wounded beast.

  The former cop ran at me at full speed. Foam and blood dripped from his gray face as he picked up the pace. When he got in range, I pulled the trigger. The zombie’s neck exploded, and he went down hard on the asphalt of the parking lot. His body skidded to a stop at my feet. I stepped up to deliver the final shot and send him to hell. Ben stepped aside to watch, in silent contemplation.

  I looked the monster in the face. Blood and gore was splattered on his face and chest. He wheezed, and his sinister red eyes fluttered as he hovered between being undead and really dead. I raised my gun and put his forehead in the sights. I had one more shot to make, and it was meant for his brain. I waited for my breathing to return to normal, and my hand to stop shaking before I fired. The zombie’s face softened. It became human, almost sad and apologetic. He started to raise his hand to shield his face. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the trigger, and shot him in the head.

  Dead. Like all the others I’ve killed before.

  I walked over to the never-ending rows of dead cars and minivans. “You Red-Eyes have managed to take everything from me,” I said in a loud voice as I walked down the rows of silent automobiles. “You took my wife, my job, my friends, my world.” I turned and started walking back to the Red-Eye corpse lying in a pile on the ground. “But you haven’t taken me. You hear me? You’ve haven’t taken me. I refuse to give in to you.” I paused to listen. “Do any of you dead bastards hear me?”

  Silence. The only sound was the early spring breeze blowing through the overgrown landscape of the mall parking lot.

  “Movement in front of you,” Ben said, pointing to someone crawling out from behind a light blue pickup truck. It was Greg, one of Wallace’s goons. He got to his feet and tried to limp away. I guess he had hurt himself, and he had misplaced his rifle.

  Good. He’d be easier to catch.

  Greg saw me coming and tried to break into a run. He wasn’t fast enough, though, and I took him by the collar. He struggled a bit, and grabbed my arm to try and break my grip on his shirt.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I asked. I began to drag him to Safety One.

  Ben watched in horror as I passed. “Easy, John.”

  “Quiet, Ben. I got this.”

  I crossed the parking lot with Greg in tow. When I got to the window, I threw him inside. “John,” Doctor Connelly started to protest. “What are you going to do?”

  I put up a hand to silence the doctor. She shielded Amy from what I might do to Greg. He crawled up and propped himself up on the counter. Greg wanted to stand and face me. “So what are you going to do, shoot me? I was just following orders.” Despite the injury to his leg, he chest-bumped me. I answered by slamming the butt of my gun into his nose. Both Ben and the doctor jumped in surprise. I felt the bone give a little, and blood spurted out onto his face. He collapsed to the ground.

  Greg was lying on the ground, whimpering in pain and anger. I crouched down and grabbed his hair. I forced him to look at Doctor Connelly and Amy. “I just wanted you to see what you were shooting at: a doctor and a damn five-year-old girl.” He tried to look away, but I forced him to see them. “Do you see them? I released his hair.

  Greg started to laugh. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. By now, Wallace is probably parked right outside Cannon Fields, carving up your little friends behind the gates. While you and I have been screwing around here, he’s been burning down your houses and taking your stuff.” He continued to laugh as blood ran out of his nose.

  My anger doubled. Claire, Denise, and all the rest of the good people of Cannon Fields were in danger from Wallace and goons like Greg. I closed my eyes. They could all be dead by now. We’d find their bodies neatly laid out in rows while the houses burned in the background.

  Enough was enough.

  “Get up,” I said. Greg struggled to his feet. The blood was really flowing now. He gave me a crooked smile.

  I stood there with my gun at my side, finger off the trigger. Even I didn’t know what to do with him. I saw Ben start to move in, but he stopped. “So what are you going to do, old man? Shoot me? Will that make you feel better? You don’t have the balls to kill me face-to-face.”

  I wanted to shoot him. I wanted to kill him for letting Jenny die. I wanted to kill him for drawing the Red-Eyes to Safety One, and shooting at an innocent little girl. I wanted to kill him for putting Cannon Fields in danger. It might solve one problem, but I wouldn’t feel better. It never made me feel better.

  “Are you afraid?” I asked.

  He looked at me, puzzled. “I ain’t afraid of shit…of anything or anybody.”

  I put the gun to his head. I heard Ben and the doctor pull in their breath. “Are you afraid now?” I pressed the gun harder into his head. “You’re a waste of human life. It wouldn’t even cause me to lose any sleep.”

  “Okay…Okay. You want me to admit it? I’m afraid. I don’t want to die…okay? You got me to admit it. You happy now?” He waved his arm at Ben. “You…call him off.”

  “I can’t stop him. Maybe you do deserve to die,” Ben said.

  “C’mon, man,” Greg protested, but it fell on deaf ears. “Screw you then. Screw you. I hope you all rot in Hell.”

  “John. Please…”

  It was the doctor. Amy was standing at her side, staring at me with her big brown eyes full of fear.

  I shook my head to clear my mind, and calm down. Ben’s recent speech about keeping your humanity in all this mess rang in my ears. It was getting harder every day, especially with idiots like Wallace and his neighborhood goons. I didn’t want to lose it today. Not to this creep at the end of my gun. Not in front of a frightened little girl in an ex-ice cream parlor outfitted as a shelter.

  Amy had seen enough monsters today already.

  I pulled the gun off his head. Greg laughed again. “I knew it. You survivors are all the same. Never can pull the trigger.” He shook his head in disgust.

  I ignored him. “You know how Red-Eyes hunt, Greg?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “They hunt by smell.” I took my finger, and smeared the blood from Greg’s nose onto his face until he looked like a Native American in war paint. “They can home in on body odor, but what really drives them crazy is bl
ood. Like sharks, they zero in on the smell. They love it. It’s like a drug to them” I looked him up and down. “They’re going to love you. The Red-Eyes are going to smell the blood on you, hunt you down, then tear you apart. There’s not even going to be enough of you left to turn.” Greg’s face went white, and he tried to wipe off his blood.

  I pushed him into the center of the store. “I’m going to start counting, and you’re going to hit the road. If you’re still in range when I reach ten, I will shoot you.”

  “You got to be kidding.” Greg turned to Ben. “The old man is kidding, right?”

  Ben shook his head. “Doesn’t look like he’s kidding to me. And he ain’t no old man.”

  I started to count. “One…two…”

  Greg backed up towards the window. “Come on, man. This is nuts. This is nuts, right? I can’t go out there bleeding like this.”

  “Three…four…five…”

  Greg turned and bolted out of the broken window. With his injured leg, he wasn’t very fast. Adrenaline, the look in my eye, or pure pants-wetting fear made him move into the parking lot.

  I stepped to the window. Greg was trying to run away. He took one last look back.

  “Six…Seven …” I raised my voice, but Greg was already out of range. He disappeared into the junk and debris of the lot.

  It was the Red-Eyes’ problem now.

  I stepped back into the ice cream parlor. A sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I nearly fell to the ground. All at once, I felt like was going to throw up and pass out at the same time. The room started going black, and my legs felt like rubber bands. I stumbled a bit.

  Ben rushed over. He knew I was in distress. “Easy big guy. You okay?”

  I couldn’t answer him. All I could do was point to the ground near the counter.

  Ben understood. He took my gun, and helped me to the floor. I sat and leaned against the counter. “Doc? What’s wrong with him?”

  Doctor Connelly looked concerned. She looked into my eyes, and checked my pulse. “His heart is racing. Could be a reaction to stress.” She held my chin and said, “John? Are you all right?”

  I managed to nod and gasp out a “Yes.” The doctor sat down beside me. “He’s going to be okay.” “Thank Jesus.” Ben rubbed his hands together nervously.

  Doctor Connelly put her arm around me. I put my head on her shoulder for support. “He just needs a little space and air. It’s a delayed reaction to stress.”

  “Okay. I’ll go watch the window.” Ben kneeled down and said, “Get better big guy. We need you.” He stood up, and went to the window to keep watch.

  I had broken out into a cold sweat and had a deep case of the shakes. At least, I didn’t feel like blacking out anymore. My breathing and heartbeat were slowly returning to normal. “What’s wrong with me, doc?” I croaked.

  Doctor Connelly checked my pulse again. “It’s a reaction to stress. You’ll be okay.”

  “Why now?”

  “Everything you’ve been through, it builds up. Believe me you’re entitled.”

  “I feel so weak.”

  The doctor smiled. “From what I’ve seen this afternoon, you are most certainly not weak.”

  “Then why am I on the floor?” I felt a little panic begin to rise in my chest.

  The doctor checked my pulse again. “You’re human. Just like everybody else. Humans are a very tough species, but too much stress can knock us off our feet.” She patted my wrist. “You’ll be okay.”

  “Ever happen to you?”

  The doctor’s face darkened. “Oh, yeah. Seems to happen a lot more, these days. It will probably happen to everyone that’s been dropped into this hell eventually. The key is getting up again. You have to get up and stumble on.”

  Amy came over and sat down beside me. She handed me a cookie.

  “Thank you Amy.” I took the cookie, but didn’t feel much like eating. I took a couple of bites anyway to see Amy smile. The weakness was fading. I went to stand up. Everyone needed me to be strong. This was not a time to be sitting on the floor, sick.

  “Are you sure? How do you feel?” the doctor asked.

  “Not one hundred percent, but I need to stand or I might never get up.” The doctor nodded, and stood up with me.

  Ben came over. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “What’s the plan, John?” Ben sounded a lot like Claire with that question. It was her favorite. I really missed her.

  I sighed. “Doc, is Ryan mobile?”

  She nodded. “Yes. He can be moved.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Okay. Let’s load him up, fill up the truck with gas and supplies, and then get the hell home. Cannon Fields may need our help.”

  Without a word, we went into action. It was time to get home. The shadows were getting long, and the afternoon was escaping us.

  I just hoped Cannon Fields was still there when we pulled up.

  Chapter 19

  Home at Last

  Best laid plans.

  Ben and I struggled to get the lug nuts off the flat tire on the side of the road. One of the dangers in using a car or truck during the end of the world is all the debris. You drive around, and eventually something sharp gets stuck in one of your tires. Our tire’s sidewall was basically shredded into rubber spaghetti.

  The lugs refused to give up their grip. Ben and I nearly blew blood vessels in our brain trying to get them off. Someone must have put them on with the strongest machine on the face of the earth. Even standing and kicking the wrench couldn’t budge the stubborn lugs.

  “Damn,” Ben said, after yet another unsuccessful attempt. “Those things are on there.”

  “Yeah.” Time was wasting. We needed to get home. “Ben, how far is Cannon Fields from here?”

  “We’re pretty close. Can we ride on the rim?”

  I checked out our damaged vehicle. The blowout had been a violent one. Ben had to wrestle the large SUV to a stop after the tire let go. The rim was flattened on the bottom and cracked in various places. “No. Looks like it’s toast.” I glanced at a few of the nearby vehicles. None of them looked serviceable. “Our options for replacement transportation look limited as well.”

  Ben kicked the blown-out wheel. “We’re going to have to walk.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “What about Ryan?” Ben nodded to the back seat. “And all the supplies we put in the back?”

  Ben and I had packed as many supplies from Safety One into the SUV as we could. We made food, water, and medicine our priorities. The rest of the stuff that didn’t fit in the back would have to stay. With the window shot out, most of it probably wouldn’t be there long, anyway.

  “We’ll leave the supplies here, and get them later. As for Ryan… ” I looked around for a solution. I caught sight of an totaled ambulance in the ditch a little bit down the road. “Let’s check out that ambulance. Maybe it still has a gurney aboard.”

  Ben’s face broke out into a big grin. “Pretty smart, John.”

  “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

  We called the doctor over to the truck. She had been watching over us, wearing Ryan’s rifle. The brutal looking weapon was in stark contrast to her peaceful doctor’s coat.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  I pointed to the ambulance in the ditch. “I think we’re going to have to walk. Ben and I are going to check for a gurney in that ambulance. Could you stay here and keep an eye out?”

  “Sure. Just be careful.”

  “You, too.” I pointed to the rifle. “You know how to use that?”

  “The end with the hole points towards the bad guys, right?” the doctor said, with more than a little sarcasm in her voice.

  Ben and I both shared a little laugh. Doctor Connelly was a pip. “Right.”

  We jogged to the ambulance and took a quick look. It was a big, truck based unit from a private firm. The big vehicle was nose down in the ditch, with a crumpled fender. The windshield was shattered a
s well. On a good note, there were no bodies in the cab, but we did find a few bullet holes.

  We walked around to the rear doors. They were slightly open. I bent forward, took a listen, and a quick sniff. It seemed clear, but something nasty could be inside. Whatever it was, it could pop out when I opened the door. Claire used to call them “Jack-in-the-Box” zombies, and they were always trouble. I took hold of the handle and prepared myself for what may come out.

  “Maybe we should think about this,” Ben said. “Something bad could be inside.” He got his rifle ready.

  “Okay. Go ahead.”

  I really hoped nothing was inside. I was feeling better, but was still recovering from my little panic attack at Safety One. A pop-up zombie would probably knock me right out. I took a deep breath, threw open the door, and got my ass out of the way of Ben’s rifle.

  It was clear. Furthermore, there was a gurney in the back. The rest of the ambulance was picked clean. Ben and I manhandled the gurney out of the back and set it on the concrete. It had a bad wheel and the coverings were gone, but it would have to do.

  We wheeled it over to the SUV. The broken wheel made a godawful racket on the asphalt. Ben made a face. “Damn. Pretty noisy. I wonder if the deadheads will hear it?”

  “Hope not. I don’t think I’m up for a jog pushing a gurney around.”

  Ryan was carefully withdrawn from the backseat and strapped to the gurney. “Careful,” the doctor said. “I don’t want to jostle him too much.”

  I tightened one of the straps around Ryan. “No promises, Doc.”

  After placing Amy on the gurney so she could ride to Cannon Fields, the world’s slowest ambulance service was ready for its maiden voyage. Ben acted as the engine, pushing from the back. Doctor Connelly and I each took a side and helped Ben guide the damaged gurney down the road.