Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue

by Stephen Drivick

  Eight souls were headed for a new home. They won't become sex slaves, or food for cannibals, or be forced to work in some god-forsaken metal fort, or hide among the rubble scrounging for a living. They get new lives. A second chance.

  And they won't become zombies.

  “I think it's worth it,” I said closing my eyes.

  I drifted off, somewhere between asleep and awake. A gray place where my pain was gone and I could rest. The bus rocked gently as it traveled home, and Claire held my hand to reassure me. I would be okay. Deep down, I was afraid. Afraid to sleep. I might not wake up.

  I remember a few conversations. Claire would talk to me to check my condition, but I don't remember my answers. Lyle came back once or twice to check on me and confer with Claire on routes home. They chose the roads carefully to keep away from the Junkmen, the Fort, and other obstacles as we traveled south. We were in no condition for a fight. After a brief conference, Lyle would run back to the driver's seat to continue the journey.

  It seemed like a long trip, but soon Claire was shaking me. “John...are you awake?”

  My eyes opened slowly. The dull ache had returned to my side and back. My injuries were still there. “What is it? Something wrong?”

  Claire smiled. A bright, vibrant smile that almost lit up the bus. “Far from it. We made it. We're home.”

  Thinking it might be a dream, I raised myself to a sitting position to take a look. Lyle had parked the bus near the driveway to Cannon Fields. It was getting dark, but I could make out the wall and gate of our home. We had made it. I shook my head to clear it. Everything was a little fuzzy. “Better let them know we're here, Claire.”

  She reached into one of her pockets, and pulled out a flashlight. “I'm on it.” Claire jogged, with a slight limp due to her bum ankle, to the front of the bus and shined the flashlight towards the guards at the gate. We couldn't see them, but they were definitely watching us. One of the guards would take a visual through their night optics, then decide if we could come in or not. After what seemed like an eternity, the beam of a flashlight appeared at the gate. It was waving us inside. We were good to go.

  Lyle cranked the bus, and the big diesel motor came to life. Slowly, he approached Cannon Fields. As the zombie-stained grille of our shuttle bus came near the gate, one of the guards appeared and pulled it open. Like a choreographed dance, two other guards came outside to prevent any intruders. Lyle pulled through, the guards came back inside, and the gate was quickly shut.

  Lyle stopped down the road and opened the door. Lisa and Elizabeth climbed aboard, weapons at the ready. Lisa was first. “Thank God. We were wondering when you guys were coming back. Everyone is worried sick,” said Lisa. Lyle turned on the interior lights. They came on theater-style, rising from a pale yellow color to a stark, bright white. Lisa looked around at all the scared, wide-eyed girls on the bus. “Look at all these people.” She quickly put her rifle down so it wouldn't frighten anyone.

  “Anybody hurt?” Elizabeth asked.

  Claire pointed towards the back. “John's hurt. I don't know how bad.”

  “Okay,” Lisa said, coming down the aisle. Elizabeth stayed up front to direct Lyle.

  Lisa bent down and took my face in her hands. I didn't realize it, but I had slumped down a little in the seat, and almost lay down again. “What happened?” she asked.

  “Danced with a Red-Eye,” I said.

  Claire stood behind Lisa, shaking her head. “He got slammed through a wooden counter. Pain in his back and side.”

  “Yeah...not liking the looks of this.” Lisa called to the front. “Better step it up.”

  I took Lisa's hand. “Don't worry about me. Get these girls to the infirmary. They're scared. They need some water and food.” My head felt very heavy all of a sudden.

  “We'll take care of everybody,” Lisa said. “Including you.”

  Lyle took us to the roundabout in front of the admin building in double time. He stopped the bus with a lurch, and opened the door. “Last stop!” he said, in a cheery voice.

  Doctor Connelly appeared in the doorway. She greeted Lyle, then started down the bus. She stopped at a few aisles, checking on the students' injuries and giving general check-ups. Elizabeth was behind her, nodding as the Doctor gave instructions. After a few more stops, she finally came to the back of the bus to check on my condition. Doctor Connelly began poking and prodding at my potentially damaged ribs. “Getting much sleep these days, Doc?” I said, noticing her bloodshot eyes.

  “Not since you guys left. Kind of felt responsible after making that fancy speech in Denise's office.” Taking a small penlight from her coat, she shined it into my eyes. “Hmm,” Doctor Connelly said. “We may have to check you for a concussion, too.”

  Great. Something else to worry about.

  “The infirmary is ready. I have beds set up in a quarantine area for the new people. It'll be tight, but I think we'll fit them all,” said Doctor Connelly. “And we need to get you inside as quick as we can, John.” I decided not to argue.

  With help from Miss Rose, the girls got their meager possessions together and exited the bus. Elizabeth and Lisa each put an arm around me, and helped me off the bus and to the ground. Claire came out last, carrying the precious medicine in the cardboard box. Looking around, the surroundings of our home helped my mood.

  Claire took a deep breath. “Good to be back. Even the air smells better.” I lifted my head, and the sweet smells of wood fires and fresh earth washed over me. I almost asked to kiss the ground.

  Doctor Connelly, with a little sign language interpretation from Miss Rose, explained to the girls about quarantine and some other things. Then, she waved everybody inside, and we all formed an orderly line. Lyle ran ahead to open the door. As each girl passed by, Lyle exchanged a handshake or a brief hug. The look on his face was one of relief, a broad smile from ear to ear. The mission was over, and it was a success. Lyle had lost a few, but eight had been saved. Claire's ankle would get better, and my injuries would heal. One by one, they disappeared into the admin building to start their new lives. Claire bounded up the steps with a slight limp, had some small talk with Lyle, then stepped inside. She was safe, and back to her family. I breathed a painful sigh of relief.

  Then it was my turn at the bottom of the stairs. Lyle waved me in. “Come on, John. I'll hold the door,” he said.

  “Could someone tell my wife I'm home?” I said. Lisa and Elizabeth were struggling to keep me upright.

  “We'll let her know,” Lisa said. “Let's get you inside first.”

  Lisa and Elizabeth tried to get me up the stairs, but it was too painful. Lifting my legs to try to take the stairs was bringing me close to passing out. Lyle came down to help out, but I still couldn't get up the stairs. They sat me down on one of the steps.

  Doctor Connelly offered a suggestion. “The back board we found in that ambulance. We can lay him down on that and carry him inside.”

  Lisa nodded. “Good thinking.” She helped me sit down on one of the steps. “Nice and slow.”

  A rifle shot rang out in the distance. It was from the front gate. It was followed by two more, followed by silence for a few seconds. Small arms fire came after that, about four or five shots.

  “What the hell was that?” Lyle said.

  “Sniper fire. We weren't careful enough. Something must have gotten inside,” said Lisa. Her grip tightened on my arm. We were inside the gates. We were supposed to be safe.

  But our ordeal wasn't over.

  “Get inside, Doctor. Lyle, go with her. You will be my inside defense if things go bad,” I said.

  “Got it,” Lyle said.

  “No way,” the Doctor said. “We're getting you inside first.”

  “No time.” I checked my gun to make sure it was ready.

  Doctor Connelly pleaded her case. “John...you can barely stand up.”

  “I know,” I said. “But you know the procedure. Get inside, and lock it down. I didn't risk my life to bring ev
erybody home just to have a zombie get inside and take them all back.”

  The Doctor opened her mouth to argue, but she pulled back. “At least let Lisa and Elizabeth handle it, okay?” She turned to Lisa. “Get him inside as soon as possible.” Doctor Connelly and Lyle went up the stairs, and inside the building. I heard the two locks click in place.

  Me, Lisa, and Elizabeth were now outside with a monster on the loose.

  Lisa took charge like a good soldier “It may have gone into the woods behind the buildings. I'm going to check it out,” she said. “Liz, you stay with John. Stay near the stairs.”

  “Okay,” Elizabeth said. Her voice sounded kind of thin.

  Lisa took off into the woods to track the intruder. Since it was a cold night, it was almost silent except for our breathing and Liz's footsteps on the ground. The croaking frogs and noisy crickets of the spring were still a few months away. I strained my ears to hear anything skulking in the darkness.

  Elizabeth paced around me, looking in all directions. She stepped as lightly as possible, not talking and making as little noise as possible. She went in one direction, then another scanning the darkness for any red eyes staring back. Elizabeth made one final lap, then came back to me on the stairs.

  “I don't see anything,” she said, sounding a little nervous. Elizabeth began checking her rifle from front to back. Despite the chilly night, she was sweating a bit.

  “Liz,” I said.

  She stopped checking her weapon and looked up. “What is it? Are you all right?”

  “Take it easy. Before you shoot yourself in the leg, take a deep breath or two,” I said.

  Elizabeth stopped what she was doing and took two cleansing breaths. “Right. I'm sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. Not exactly calm, myself.” I tried to stand, but pain from my side sent me back onto the stair. If something did come out of the darkness, I wouldn't be able to run.

  “Just being silly, I guess,” said Elizabeth. “It probably ran off into the weeds somewhere. Lisa and the others will get it.”

  “Yeah. It'll be Lisa. She's a good shot in the dark,” I said.

  A noise came from somewhere in front of us. It wasn't a growl or a hiss, but a rustling. Like someone running around in their bare feet. Elizabeth raised her rifle, but kept her finger off the trigger. No sense shooting wildly into the dark with no target. The noise stopped as quickly as it came up. We strained our eyes and ears looking for something in the shadows. Elizabeth got out a small flashlight, and shined it around the roundabout and the alleys between the buildings. She stepped closer to the stairs to protect me. “Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.”

  “Good,” I said. “I don't think I could shoot straight anyway.”

  Across the roundabout from the admin building is a special piece of open ground. No corn or other crops are grown there. No animals are allowed to graze, and no children can play within its borders. It was a place devoted to the fallen residents of Cannon Fields, a memorial garden. No bodies are buried, as zombies might be attracted by the corpses. Instead, we write the names of our fallen loved ones on rocks and place them on the ground. A winter breeze kicked up, sending the limbs of the lone oak among the memorial rocks dancing. They moved and swayed as the wind played through the empty branches, but the old oak was not alone.

  A Red-Eye stepped from its hiding place behind the tree. It was a young male that had managed to wrap a dirty cloth around his neck and mouth to keep out the cold. It looked up, lowered the cloth, and the red eyes reflected in Elizabeth's light. Hissing and pawing the ground, the zombie charged across the roundabout.

  “Damn,” said Elizabeth. She threw the flashlight to the ground, and raised her rifle. Elizabeth got off two quick shots at the incoming Red-Eye. They were too low and right, catching the zombie in the leg and abdomen. It stumbled, but continued to charge. I drew my weapon, but it felt like a ton in my hand. My injuries prevented me from being an effective zombie fighter.

  It was up to Elizabeth.

  Soon the zombie was face to face with her, and it began its death strike. Elizabeth didn't hesitate this time, and calmly sidestepped the attack. She used her rifle to deflect the monster's outstretched arms, and sent it flying past her. The zombie tripped and fell to the ground with a thud. Before it could stand, Elizabeth fired two more shots at close range. The Red-Eye's head jerked, and it slumped to the grass. The creature's death scream echoed through the streets of Cannon Fields.

  Elizabeth approached the dead zombie carefully, She circled it a few times, waiting for it to stand and attack. It remained silent, in a crumpled heap. She walked up, poked it a few times with her rifle, then gave it a swift kick. “Ugly bastard.”

  When Elizabeth was sure it was dead, she came back to the stairs. I was trying to stand during the attack, but now I was lying on the stair barely able to breathe. The injuries were getting worse. “Is it dead?” I asked.

  Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at the new corpse. “Very dead.” She took my hand.

  “Good job, Liz. We'll make a zombie-fighter out of you yet,” I said, starting to cough. The taste of blood touched my tongue, sending chills up my spine. I pulled my gun and handed it to Elizabeth. “Here. Take this for me.”

  “I can't take your gun, John.”

  It was getting hard to breathe, or talk. “The way I feel, I might not need it after tonight. Just take it.”

  She put the weapon into the waistband of her pants. “I'll tell you what. I'll keep it safe until you're back on your feet again. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Lisa and another resident ran up out of the darkness. “We heard some shooting.” She looked at the dead zombie near the stairs. “We cornered one behind the admin building and killed it. Who got this one?”

  Without taking her eyes off me, Elizabeth said, “I got it.”

  “Way to go, Liz. Nice work,” Lisa said, with genuine pride for her little sister.

  With Lisa on one side and Liz on the other, they lifted me off the stairs. Lyle and Doctor Connelly brought out the backboard from the infirmary. After laying me down carefully, all four of them carried me up the stairs, and inside the admin building. As we stepped inside, my face and body were bathed by the warmth from the big stone fireplace. Whatever lay ahead for me, it was nice to finally get out of the cold.

  Chapter 22: Back Among the Living

  “Hold still. I don't want to cut anything off.”

  My wife Karen took hold of my foamy chin to steady my face. Swirling the dull razor in a bowl of warm water, she gently placed it on my face and prepared to shave more of my beard. It was one of those old-fashioned razors where you turn the handle to eject the blade. A dangerous, single-edged blade.

  “Now, hold still,” Karen said again. She brought the razor down my face. It made an audible scraping noise as it traversed my cheek. Karen was being slow and deliberate to avoid cutting me. The blade, razor, and shaving cream had all been tough to find, but Karen had persevered. She moved the blade to another location on my cheek to clean more hair off my face. “You are going to look so much better,” Karen said. I was in no position to argue. My wife was holding a sharp weapon to my face.

  Besides, I made a deal with Claire. The beard had to go.

  After swiping my face and neck a few more times, Karen dropped the razor in the bowl and put it aside. She took a clean towel to wipe off the extra shaving cream, then leaned back to take a look. Her beautiful smile came out. “That's a look I can live with.”

  “Let me see,” I said.

  Karen handed me a small mirror. She had shaved off most of my beard, but left a small amount on my chin, upper lip, and a little bit on my cheeks. It was still kind of gray, but very neat and tidy. Karen even trimmed my hair back, as well. “Not bad.”

  “You look younger,” Karen said. “Well, except for the gray hair.” She started to laugh, but it was cut short. Some tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at me.

  “What's the ma
tter?” I asked.

  Karen put her arms around me, and put her head on my shoulder. “I was so worried about you. When you didn't come back right away, I thought something bad happened. Couldn't do anything but sit here and wonder if you'd ever come back.”

  I hugged my wife tight. These last two weeks in the infirmary, she didn't leave my side. Sitting in the little chair near my bed, not sleeping, just looking on and waiting for me to get better. Doctor Connelly told her to go home a few times, but she stayed. Karen was a strong woman, but I often forgot how worried she got at times.

  Karen pulled back from our embrace, and sat up. Her big, green eyes were still swimming a bit. I stroked her pale cheek, stained with tears. “I'm sorry I worried you. You know, I will always do my best to make it home to you.”

  She smiled, and we kissed. A nice, deep kiss that lasted a while. When we were finished, Karen's cheeks were flushed a crimson color, and the tears were gone. She ran her fingers over the bandage around my chest that covered my injury. “When you get out of the infirmary, you and I are going to lock ourselves in our bedroom and not come out for a while. If you know what I mean,” Karen's voice had turned husky with the bawdy talk.

  My pulse quickened. “How long will we be locked up?”

  Karen came closer for another kiss. “At least three days.”

  “Three days? It's been a long time. I hope I remember how,” I said.

  “You'll pick it up as we go along.” Karen and I kissed again. It was longer and better than the previous one. I started to wonder why I ever leave Cannon Fields at all. I put my arms around my Karen to continue our passionate kiss. We kept kissing, and the world went away around us.

  Then I noticed a little girl standing by our bedside.

  It was Cora, the formerly sick girl. She was the one coughing her brains out in the infirmary when I left. Now, she stood and watched Karen and I kiss each other with a goofy, crooked grin on her face. The moment was over. Karen ended our kiss and sat up. Cora continued to stare.