We were so close to home.
The broken wheel made a rhythmic thumping noise on the pavement as we walked. I modulated our speed so that the noise wasn’t so loud, but no matter how fast or slow we walked the gurney made that horrible sound. The Red-Eyes were surely listening.
“We tried to clear the roads around Cannon Fields as much as we could. Denise sent teams of fighters out around the subdivision to take care of any swarms. We took care of about a hundred or so.” As he spoke, the bushes and weeds next to the roads rustled as something moved through them. “Could be a few stragglers left,” Ben said, as he picked up a little speed.
After pushing and guiding the problem-child gurney down the road for about an hour, the reinforced, stucco-covered wall of Cannon Fields finally came into view. Our spirits brightened as we saw its cool, brown color. We picked some more speed. We were home. Ben, Ryan, and I had completed our mission, and the doctor had a new address. Amy would be safe. Jenny was gone, but she had not died in vain. There had been a few setbacks, but everything was going to be all right.
“Good to be home,” Ben said.
I agreed. “You got that right.” The doctor smiled at Amy.
Then we saw the bread-box shape of Wallace’s UN wonder truck with handy roof-mounted machine gun. It was parked at the gate with all its doors open. The large gun was tucked away in its panel. Something wasn’t right. The vehicle looked deserted, and abandoned on the road.
The three of us pushed the gurney into some nearby tall weeds. Ben pulled out a small pair of binoculars to take a look. “ What’s going on?” I asked.
Ben shook his head. “Something’s doesn’t look right. I’ve never seen a truck like that before.” He swung the binoculars to the gate. “There’s no guards at the gate. We usually keep a few watching over the road. Looks like the gate is closed though. You think it’s this Wallace, character?”
“Yeah. That’s definitely his truck.” Wallace was inside with an unknown number of his guys. I took the glasses from Ben, and took a look. The doors were all open and unguarded. Bloody handprints were plastered on the side. “Looks like they were attacked.”
“What should we do?” Ben asked.
I rubbed my chin, and the accompanying afternoon beard shadow, in thought. “Let’s approach the truck and see what’s up.” I turned to Doctor Connelly. “Doc, stay here and wait for a signal.”
The Doctor nodded. “Okay. We may have to hurry. Ryan needs help.”
Ben and I went from wreck to wreck on the road in front of Cannon Fields till we got close to Wallace’s truck. When we got to the last car, a few feet from the truck, the full horror of the scene unfolded. I was right. The truck and its occupants had been attacked by a group of zombies. Several undead corpses lay around the open door, all shot through the head. Uniformed soldiers, and parts of soldiers, were interspersed with the undead. Blood and shell casings littered the road. The casings made little metallic clinking noises as we knocked them aside with our boots.
“Damn,” Ben said, as we walked up to the large opening in the truck. “Must have been a massacre.”
“Yeah.” An overwhelming stench of death hit me, causing me to draw my gun. Ben got ready as well. We raised our weapons and looked inside the door. The inside was definitely worse than the outside.
The truck was wall-to-wall blood and guts. A female Red-Eye dressed in civilian clothing sat in the middle of it all, tearing the meat off a human leg. As we watched, she pulled off a long string of skin and muscle, and greedily stuffed it into her mouth. Her meal made a wet squishy noise as she chewed and swallowed. If I live to be a hundred, I don’t think I will ever be able to get that noise out of my head.
“Oh. Jesus. It’s one of ours. Sue Johnson,” Ben said, covering his mouth.
The Red-Eye saw us and tried to stand up. An angry growl escaped her blood-covered lips as she stumbled and began to crawl. Her legs had been shot up, and her arm was shattered. She reached the ramp and came towards us, hissing and making low growls. I aimed my gun at her head.
“Wait!” Ben said. “Somebody will hear the shot.” He walked over, drew his knife, and drove it into the zombie’s eye socket. The hissing stopped, and silence returned. He turned the corpse over.
“Yeah. Sue Johnson. Lived a street over from me.” Ben stood up. “Wallace and his guys must have attacked and attracted a few deadheads.”
I walked around the truck, following the shell casings and blood. “A group from Cannon Fields must have come outside to negotiate. Something went wrong. Either a gun battle ensued, or the zombies attacked.” I imagined it was chaos outside the gates. I continued to follow the blood, guts, corpses, and shell casings right to the front gates. The trail continued inside Cannon Fields, right down the road. I turned to Ben. “The battle came to here, then went inside. Someone closed the gates behind them.” I looked down the road. Wallace must be in there. I gently shook the gate. “Ben, is there another way to get inside?”
Ben gave me a crooked smile. “No, but I can climb the gate and unlock the clamps. I’ve been practicing the climb, just in case.” With that, he shouldered his rifle and scurried up the gate like an oversized squirrel. It took only a few seconds for him to climb over and jump down to the other side. He ran to a small guardhouse, unlocked the gate, then slid it aside.
Ben remained at the gate while I went to get Ryan. Doctor Connelly and I unstrapped Ryan from the gurney. He groaned a little, and said a few incomprehensible words. I put my arm around his waist, as he couldn’t walk. It looked like I was going to have to drag him a little. The doctor took hold of Amy’s hand. I watched for the go signal from Ben.
After a few seconds, Ben waved the all-clear. Doctor Connelly and Amy went first, followed by me and Ryan. We crossed the street and entered Cannon Fields. Ben closed and locked the gate.
We were safe from the zombies. That is, if none were inside with us.
Ben took hold of Ryan to help me, and we proceeded down the road to the administration building. There was no talking as we tried to hurry down the road. I looked ahead and saw the roundabout in the center, with it’s cluster of buildings in the distance. It was empty. The usual frenzy of activity was absent.
“Where is everybody, Ben?”
“Don’t know. Maybe they’re being held by force.”
A bad feeling began to creep over me. As we walked, it looked less and less that everything was okay. I had developed a sixth sense about danger in my travels among the dead. Cannon Fields was a ghost town, and it didn’t look good.
“John, there’s a body on the road,” said the doctor.
We stopped to check it out. It looked to be a middle-aged man in a flannel shirt and baseball cap. A small splotch of blood surrounded him, and a small revolver lay in the road nearby. He had been shot multiple times. Ben leaned down to identify the man. “It’s Lee Downs. Damn. He was a good guy.” He picked up the gun, and checked out the chambers. “Empty. Good old Lee…went down fighting.”
We found three more bodies nearby. One was a female resident, the other two were in uniform. All had been shot. Ben recognized the female. “Sally Downs, Lee’s wife. I don’t know the other two.”
“Wallace’s men,” I said. “Ben, do you guys have an emergency plan? A place to retreat to if things go bad?”
He thought for a second. “Yeah. Most of our residents don’t have a lot of gun experience, so Denise designated the admin buildings main dining and gathering room as a shelter. If we were ever overrun, we were all supposed to lock ourselves inside.”
“Okay. We’ll head over there. I’ll bet that’s where everyone is.” Ben and I shifted our grip on Ryan and started our journey.
We got to the last house before the admin building, and stopped to take a look. Ben peered at the front door, and the area in front of the administration building through his binoculars. He swept the battered glasses back and forth.
“Anything going on?”
“Nope. Looks quiet. Wait…th
e front door is opening.” He handed me the binoculars.
Through the binoculars, I saw Wallace exit the building first. He was followed by one of his men, a large fellow with a rifle. The soldier directed a group of Cannon Field residents outside to a small grassy area inside the roundabout. Denise was first, followed by what I assumed was the homeowner’s association and a few other select citizens. They all looked unharmed, but scared. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but Wallace looked to be making a little speech. I watched as the large uniformed soldier pushed each citizen to the ground in front of Wallace. Claire was not among them. Hopefully, she was inside. We had to make a move.
I gave the glasses back to Ben. “What do we do?” he asked.
I thought for a second, then pointed to his rifle. ”How good are you with this rifle and scope? Can you take out a target at a distance?”
Ben nodded. “I’m pretty good. What do you have in mind?”
“We have to take care of that soldier with the rifle. One advantage we have is that they don’t know we’re here.” I grabbed Ben’s arm. “You go find some high ground and target that soldier in your scope. When the time comes, you take the shot. A clean head shot, and drop him. Can you do it?”
Ben nodded. “I can do it. Taking care of the deadheads prepared me.”
“No. This is different than killing zombies. This is going to be a human being up close and personal in your scope.” All the times that I had to hurt or kill the living came flooding back. The feelings of guilt and remorse washed over me. I usually told myself that things had to be done to survive, but it didn’t help. Every person I killed, regardless of what they did to me or Claire, weighed heavy on my heart. I wanted to warn Ben about those feelings. I wanted to warn him that he wouldn’t be the same person. “You’re going to cross a line, and you won’t be able to go back. Sometimes it’s going to eat you alive, but it has to be done. This is the world we live in now. So you have to ask yourself: Are you prepared to do what you have to do to help your people? Can you do the things necessary to survive? I need a straight answer, because you can’t hesitate. We have to drop that soldier.”
Ben swallowed, and nodded. “Yeah. I can do it. How do I know when to take the shot?”
“You’ll know. Just make sure it’s a good one.”
Ben got ready to find his spot. “What are you going to do?”
I stood up. “I’m going to have a little talk with Wallace.” Ben took off to find a vantage point.
I turned to the doctor. “You guys stay here. Don’t come out unless it’s safe. You’ve got Ryan’s rifle. Use it if necessary, okay?”
Doctor Connelly fumbled a bit with the firearm. “I don’t know.”
I knelt down. “You can do it, Johanna. I know you can.” She nodded, but looked unsure. As she fumbled some more with the rifle, Ryan moved the doctor’s hand out of the way. He took the rifle and placed it across his chest. “I’ll watch over them.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
I looked at Ryan. He was very pale and sickly, but he had a determined look. “You sure?”
He nodded. “It’s the least I could do. I mean, you carried me all this way and all.” Ryan smiled.
“Okay.” I stepped out from behind the corner of the building,and prepared to leave. “John? Be careful,” the doctor said.
“Yeah. I will.”
I started walking towards Wallace and his goon. I’ve got to be nuts. He might kill me like a dog in the street. My knees felt a little rubbery as I walked. I forced myself to calm down. We’re just going to have a little talk, that’s all. There doesn’t have to be any gunplay. None at all. My legs began to feel better, so I picked up the pace.
As I got closer, I began to act a little. I pretended that the trip outside hadn’t gone too well, and that I was alone. I walked a little slower, and I think I even developed a fake limp. Wallace and his soldier both had their backs to me as I approached. I could make out the scared faces of the Cannon Fields residents sitting on the grass. I still didn’t know what I was going to say. When I got a few feet away, I stopped. Denise caught sight of me, and let out a gasp. Wallace turned around, and his soldier raised his gun. My hands went up.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, in his Deep-South accent. ”It’s John Linder. The great zombie warrior has returned.” He waved his hand, and his soldier lowered his rifle. Wallace took a few steps in my direction. I noticed his shirt was covered in a little blood. It had been a long day for him, as well.
He looked around. “Where’s your crew? I know the redhead is gone, but what about the colored fellow and the young guy? The last I heard, you guys were at some kind of clinic. I lost contact with my scouts.”
“They’re gone. Dead. We were swarmed trying to repair our truck. I’m the only one who made it,” I said. I watched Wallace’s gun hand. It twitched as he walked around. I placed my hand on my gun.
“Too bad,” he said. “Good people. Going to be hard to replace.” He stopped at about conversation distance. “As you can see, my staff has been cut down as well. Zombies took a few, these fine folks took some more.” He gestured towards the big soldier. “Harris is the last one left, but he and I were enough to corral these folks. We were about to have a little conversation when you walked up.”
“About what?”
“Oh…about life, and the world around us. I was about to tell them that they and everything they have now belongs to me. That Cannon Fields was now my new base of operations.”
I continued to watch his gun hand. It was still twitching. He was debating whether to shoot me or not. “Is that so? How do they feel about it?”
Wallace laughed a little. “I don’t really care how they feel. It’s just the way it is.” He stepped closer. “So what are we going to do, John? Face off in the street like a couple of old gunfighters in a Western movie? Is that how this ends?”
“No. It doesn’t have to end this way. You could leave and never come back. Just leave these people alone.”
That really got Wallace laughing. “What are you prepared to do to get me to leave?
“Well…I guess I’ll have to shoot you and your friend over there, and throw your bodies outside the gate.” My hand closed around my gun, and I waited for the draw.
A dark look crossed Wallace’s face. “That’s not going to happen and you know it. You see, I know your weakness.” He waved at the soldier and shouted, “Bring out the little one.”
My weakness was Claire. He was going to hurt her.
Please, God, not Claire. Not her, please. My pleas to God went unanswered. Harris, Wallace’s armed giant, went inside the admin building. He returned with Claire by the collar. The soldier threw her to the ground, placed a boot on her back, and pointed his rifle at her head.
Wallace continued. “Now, you and I are going to walk over to these nice people, and explain what’s up. If you refuse, I’m going to start shooting them in the head, one by one, starting with your little friend. I want us to work together, John. I want us to try and build a better world. These people mean nothing to me, but their blood will be on your hands if I have to hurt them. You don’t want that, do you? So let us work together, and maybe no one else has to get hurt. Okay?” He turned towards the residents and began to walk away.
I followed him at a short distance. Take the shot, Ben. Do it now.
At that exact moment, from behind me came the sharp bark of a distant rifle. Harris’s head exploded in a shower of red goo. He slumped to the ground. Claire got up and ran, along with all the other residents. They scattered across the landscape running for their lives.
Wallace ducked, then turned toward me. Without a word, he drew his large revolver and aimed it at me. In a flash, I drew my gun, and aimed back at him. We fired at the same time, the sounds of the individual shots merging into one.
At first, I thought we had both missed. Then I realized I was falling. A lightning bolt of pain shot through my left arm. I hit the ground hard. A bullet had gone th
rough my upper left arm, near the shoulder. The white hot pain spread out from the wound, and I felt the blood begin to flow.
Wallace had fallen a few feet away. He was lying on his back. With considerable pain, I pulled myself over to him in a crawl. My left arm had gone numb. I reached Wallace, and I looked him in the eyes. My bullet had found its mark in Wallace’s throat. Blood poured from the wound, and from his mouth as he struggled to breath. Wallace was dying.
“It didn’t have to end this way,” I said. Wallace turned and looked me in the eyes, but couldn’t answer. I watched as his breathing slowed, then stopped. Wallace was dead.
I rolled off him and onto my back. It appeared I was dead as well. Little flashing stars of light began to appear before my eyes. I started to feel a little cold. It must have been the loss of blood.
Claire reached me first. She was always the fastest. She pressed her hands onto my wound causing a bolt of pain. “Someone help!” she called to the other residents. She looked me in the face. “You’re going to be okay, Tiger.”
I touched her cheek. She was so beautiful in the light of the afternoon. “Are you okay?” I managed to say.
She took my hand. “I’m fine. Everybody is fine.” She turned away, and shouted for help. “Come on! Hurry up. He’s going to bleed to death.”
Doctor Connelly was the next to arrive. “I’m here, John.” She looked at my arm, and then helped Claire put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. A few more residents arrived to help. “Someone get a blanket. We’re going to make a stretcher out of it. We have to get him inside.” A few residents ran to get what the doctor needed.
Claire looked worried. “Is he going to be all right?” Tears filled her eyes.
The doctor moved her hands around to apply pressure in different areas. “I think so. We’ve got to get him inside.”
Cold began to spread across my chest and stomach. Voices began to get a little echo. It was the loss of blood. I was fading…no, dying. A strange feeling of peace started to settle over me.
“Claire. It’s okay.” My voice was surprisingly weak.
Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community Page 17