Race to Refuge

by Craig, Liz

  The elevator finally arrived on our floor with a dinging sound. The doors opened and we jumped back as we spotted an elderly man wearing navy pants and a checkered button-down shirt who looked very ill. I noticed he had a nasty cut on his neck.

  “He’s just been infected,” I murmured to Ginny. “Is there another elevator?”

  Just behind us, the crowd from the sitting room finally caught up with us.

  “I don’t know if there’s another elevator or not,” said Ginny in a rush, staring at the residents staggering and wheeling toward us.

  “We’ll find out,” I said, grabbing her arm and taking off down a long hall. “If nothing else, we’ll take the stairs.”

  On the other end of the building, through a couple of sitting areas with various zombie nurses and zombie residents snarling at us as we went, we finally found another elevator. We carefully checked inside this time before boarding it, and were relieved to find there was no one in there.

  “Fourth floor,” mumbled Ginny, hitting the button.

  We didn’t say a word on the short ride up. I think we were steeling ourselves for what we might find on the fourth floor.

  When the elevator door swung open, we cautiously peered down the hall. The lights flickered on and off. The electrical grid must be wavering. I remembered that it was dependent on people to run it—and if people were running for their lives, the chances were that we wouldn’t have power for much longer.

  As if reading my mind, the lights went out. But there was a glowing strip along the bottom of the wall that must run on a generator as a safety precaution for when the power went out at the Home. It was down this dimly lit hallway that Ginny and I walked. She turned her head swiftly from side to side as she tried to figure out where she was in the hallway.

  About three-quarters of the way down the hallway, Ginny stopped short. “Here it is,” she said with relief. “The table with the flowers on it.”

  There was also a decorative plaque on the door with a rainbow and a mountain scene on it. Ginny knocked on the door. There was no answer. Ginny knocked again and a small voice from inside said, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Nana. It’s Ginny.”

  The door slowly opened a crack and an old woman with wild hair peered suspiciously out. She stared at Ginny wordlessly for a moment as if shocked to see her there. And Ginny, relieved to see her and also desperate to get out of the dark hall, nearly knocked the woman down with the enthusiasm of her hug.

  Now the woman opened the door wide and I followed Ginny farther in. I closed the door behind us, locking it securely.

  The room was about as untidy as Ginny’s Nana, but I supposed that’s to be expected during what appeared to be the end of civilization as we knew it.

  Ginny was bubbly with a mixture of relief and anxiety. “Nana, I’m so glad to see you. I was worried about you.”

  The old woman beamed at her with bright blue eyes. “Oh, you shouldn’t worry about me. Everything is all right.”

  I reached out a hand to the old lady. “I’m Mallory.”

  She reached out her own hand. “Clarice Brown.”

  “Have you seen Ty, Nana? He got me out of town, but then we got separated. He and I were trying to get here to find you,” said Ginny quickly.

  Ginny’s Nana frowned in concentration.

  “Have you seen Ty?” repeated Ginny. “Is he here?”

  There was a short pause and then Ginny’s Nana said, “Who’s Ty?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ty

  Even though it looked like the whole retirement home had turned into zombies and were heading our way, I knew I couldn’t leave until I’d found out if Nana and Ginny were here and what had happened to them. But I felt bad asking Charlie to be part of this. I didn’t want to be alone and facing this stuff on my own, but it didn’t feel right making Charlie risk his life to help me out. After all, it wasn’t his sister or his grandmother.

  “Listen,” I said urgently to him, “you’ve done enough for me. You got me here safely and I appreciate it. But you and Mojo need to get out of here, now.”

  Charlie was still pressing the button on the gate. “Come on, come on,” he muttered. He didn’t look like he was listening to me at all.

  “Seriously,” I said, watching as the zombie old folks were heading slowly but surely toward us. “Get out of here. I can just run in and down the road to the retirement home.”

  Charlie turned to look at me in surprise. “What? Through a herd of zombies? You’re not thinking this through.”

  “No, I’m totally thinking it through,” I said. “I can run circles around young zombies and these are old zombies. I think the odds are in my favor, even if there are a lot of them.”

  Charlie shook his head and pressed the button again. “No, man. Not with gobs of them like that. There might be zombies lining the drive all the way to the front entrance of the Home. You’re a great runner, don’t get me wrong, but there’s only so far you can run without resting.”

  He looked in frustration at the speaker again and banged it with his fist. Finally, a woman’s voice spoke. “Who’s there?” it asked suspiciously.

  Charlie shot me a relieved look and then said quickly, “I’m Charlie. I’m outside your gate with a teen named Ty whose grandmother is one of your residents.”

  No word from the speaker.

  “We need to get inside the gates,” said Charlie impatiently. He rolled his eyes at me.

  Silence from the speaker.

  I spoke up this time, trying to make my voice sound younger and innocent and scared. It wasn’t hard to do, considering the circumstances. “Ma’am?” I asked. “He’s telling the truth. My name is Ty and I’m looking for my grandmother, who lives here. I’m also looking for my younger sister, Ginny, who might have come here separately, looking for my Nana.”

  Finally the voice spoke again. “What’s your Nana’s name?” She still sounded real suspicious.

  I cleared my throat and said, “Clarice Brown.”

  There was silence from the speaker again.

  I felt anxiety mounting again. “Did you hear me? Clarice Brown. She’s a resident here. She’s lived here for the last seven years.”

  Charlie swore softly under his breath, clearly frustrated. “Look, are you a nurse or a staff member or what? We need to come in. We’ve got a crowd of zombies heading our way and the relative of a resident who needs admittance.”

  The voice now sounded crafty. “Sounds like you’re in a bad way. But if I help you out, how can you help me out?”

  Charlie shot me a disbelieving look. “Are you kidding me?” he demanded of the speaker. In a furious whisper he said to me, “Ty, are you sure we need to go in there? There’s something wrong. I mean, something badly wrong in there.”

  I nodded silently.

  Charlie sighed and pushed his lips together tightly, staring at the invading horde of elderly zombies heading slowly but surely our way. “What is it that you need? We have some provisions with us. But you’ve surely got a lot more over in the kitchen there. What you probably don’t have over there is a couple of young, healthy men to carry or load things. I’m thinking you need us a lot more than we need you.”

  Another thoughtful pause on the other end. The voice was low enough for us to have to strain to hear it. “But I have the young man’s Nana. And maybe some information about his little sister. But there is something that I need. If I let you in the gates, you will promise to deliver what I ask.”

  Charlie waved his hands in the air helplessly. “I don’t think we really have a choice, Ty. I’d have gladly helped them out anyway, if they’d needed it … before she started pressuring us. Now I’ve got to help, but I’m not happy about it.”

  I nodded again. Mojo stiffened at the frustrated tone in his master’s voice and I gave him a rub. Charlie was one of those people who really lived to serve. I remember how he was so determined to help even the drunk guy at the diner who didn’t want to live. />
  “All right. We’re coming in. We’ll give you some help. Now open the gate,” said Charlie.

  Finally the wrought iron gate opened. The elderly zombies were about to reach us by now, so it was just in time. Charlie revved his bike engine and sped down the winding road leading to Crofton. I followed quickly. Mojo sat at attention in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the staggering infected residents dressed primarily in their nightclothes.

  We pulled right up to the building in an almost empty parking lot. I remembered that most of the residents here no longer drove their cars, which would explain why there were hardly any here. I glanced around the parking lot and didn’t see any zombies lingering around. “We should be able to make it in okay,” I said in a low voice, making sure I didn’t attract them by speaking too loud.

  Charlie nodded and gave a low whistle to Mojo who joyfully jumped out of the truck. I smiled at the thought of the big dog trotting down the halls of the retirement community. What wouldn’t have been imaginable a week ago was now the new normal. I saw that Charlie packed a small backpack with the gun and ammo.

  The entrance hall right inside the front doors was usually full of people playing cards and watching visitors come and go. There was no one there now.

  Charlie looked at all the empty seats and tables and murmured, “Is it usually this quiet here?”

  I shook my head. “Think they’re all locked up in their rooms, scared to come out?”

  This was what I hoped was true and not that all the residents were now infected.

  Charlie gave an uncertain shrug. “There were a lot of zombies out there, don’t get me wrong. But I’d like to think that there are still some residents here that haven’t gotten sick.”

  “We should probably go to the front desk,” I said. “That’s where the woman who spoke to us at the gate would have been.”

  “Yeah, let’s go find out what Little Miss Sunshine wanted,” said Charlie gruffly.

  He followed me through the entrance hall to an adjoining hallway that had a tall counter that was usually staffed by at least one person. Charlie and I glanced at each other when it was clear there was no one there.

  “Hello? Hello?” I called out softly.

  There was a supply closet right behind the desk and we watched as a tall, thin, grim woman with untidy graying hair pulled into a bun stuck her head around the side of the door.

  “We’re your crew,” said Charlie, still barely containing his irritation. “What do you know about Ty’s grandmother and sister?”

  The woman’s mouth was pursed as if she were trying to decide how much information to feed us before we’d done anything to help her. She finally reluctantly said, “Clarice Brown is in her room.” She hesitated as if there was more to say before firmly pressing her lips together. She gave Mojo a disapproving glare.

  My heart gave a happy leap at the good news. “And my sister?” I asked. “Have you seen my sister here?”

  Charlie looked at me with concern. I knew that he thought all along that Ginny hadn’t made it out of the woods, but that he was too nice to say it.

  The woman came around the side of the door. “She did come through here. With a woman.”

  I shook my head, confused. “What woman? My mother is infected.”

  “It was a young woman in her twenties. They seemed to be friends,” said the woman. She gave us a sly look. “And your sister left a note for you.”

  “She did? Where?” I felt that rush of happiness again. That feeling that things were going to work out after all.

  Now the woman shook her head. “I’m not going to give you more information until you complete these tasks for me.” Her blue eyes were hard as granite as she stared at us.

  “First we’re checking in with Ty’s Nana,” said Charlie, jabbing a finger at the desk to make his point. “Just to make sure you’re not just feeding us some line you’ve made up to get us to run whatever errands you need.”

  The tall woman flashed an irritated glance at him. “I’m not lying to you.”

  “Fine. But you don’t exactly seem trustworthy to me,” said Charlie.

  “I’m just trying not to give you too much information up front. We probably don’t have much time to stand around and chat before those things catch up with us,” said the woman impatiently. “And I assure you that I’m trustworthy. I’m a nurse here at Crofton.”

  “Which doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re trustworthy,” said Charlie. “But go ahead and tell us what you want. After we’ve checked on Nana, we’ll do our best to deliver it.”

  The woman came all the way away from the supply closet door to lean on the tall counter in front of us. In a raspy whisper she said, “I want you to get into the kitchen and get food out. The residents don’t have any food to eat now and it’s all in the kitchen area.”

  “And I’m assuming there is a reason that the kitchen isn’t accessible to you,” said Charlie smoothly. “Is it overrun with zombies?”

  “Let’s just say there are plenty in there,” she said with a shrug of a thin shoulder.

  “Is that it?” I asked. It didn’t sound like much of a chore to me. After all, Charlie and I had both raided food pantries since the infection started.

  “Not quite,” she said. “We’re also in need of medications. And the medical station area is full of those … things.”

  “Here’s my question,” said Charlie, head tilted to the side. “You keep saying we and the residents. I don’t hear any residents. The residents I see are already infected. So who is left and where are they? Corralled in their rooms?”

  The nurse eyed him with dislike. She seemed like one of my old teachers: the kind of person who didn’t want to be questioned. “The residents who aren’t infected were at first in their separate rooms. Those rooms were scattered through the facility and accessing everyone without being subjected to an attack was impossible. We moved everyone into the memory care unit.”

  I said, “But the memory care unit is locked up from the outside. So the residents can’t get out.”

  “And that helps, too. Because if the residents get out and go back to their rooms, I’m not going after them to feed them or give them medicine. I’ve also got the doors locked from the inside so that we can’t be invaded by infected residents.” The nurse’s voice was totally calm as if she was talking about the flu.

  Charlie gave a bob of his head. “Okay. So we get as much food out as we can and then grab some medications from the infirmary. Got it. Although I do think your longterm plan sucks if it involves staying in the memory care unit with a little bit of stockpiled food.”

  “Your supplies won’t last forever,” I added. “Don’t you think you should help get the residents out of Crofton?”

  The nurse gave me a sort of sly smile. “Get your Nana out if you’re determined to. But the rest of the residents and I are staying put. They were resigned to staying in the building even before this outbreak. I don’t think they’re feeling adventurous enough to leave during it.”

  She eyed Mojo again and her fingers restlessly pulled at her collar. “That dog shouldn’t be in here, you know.”

  Charlie snorted. “Well, zombies shouldn’t be in here either, but they are. If you want us, you get Mojo, too.”

  The nurse’s face was as sour as if she had swallowed a lemon whole. I got the impression that she didn’t want any of us, but that her options were real limited.

  Then something occurred to me. “Hey, I remember security cameras in some of the common rooms.”

  Charlie held out his hand for a high-five. “Good thinking.” He turned again to the nurse and snapped, “Don’t you think that would have made our chances of succeeding just a little stronger?”

  The nurse shrugged and directed us behind the desk. “Suit yourself.” Her face was lined with unhappiness.

  Charlie and I walked around the tall counter and through a wooden door into a small room. There were monitors showing footage from different a
reas of Crofton.

  Charlie and I looked at the cameras without talking for a few minutes. Then Charlie spoke to the nurse without even turning around. “Sending us on a suicide mission? Are you trying to get supplies or just trying to kill us?”

  The infirmary and kitchen area were crawling with zombies.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Charlie

  Looking at those monitors and seeing the zombies everywhere, I knew I didn’t want Ty anywhere near it.

  “Hey,” I told him. “You stay here with Mojo. I’ve got this.”

  He shot me a disbelieving look. “Really? No way. Not with fifty of those things in the kitchen and another fifteen around the infirmary.”

  I tried making my voice light. “Yeah, but these zombies are like one hundred years old. They weren’t in great shape even before they were infected. I’ll just slip into the kitchen, fill up some boxes just like we did at the diner, and then take off. Then I’ll go back and handle the infirmary.” Even as I said it, though, I knew it sounded like a fairytale.

  Ty knew it too. The kid wasn’t stupid. “I’m going with you. Mojo can stay here. With both of us, it’ll go a lot faster. I can distract the zombies while you grab the food. Then we can run out. I’ll lure them into the dining room, since it’ll be less cramped.”

  “No, I’ll lure them and you’ll get the stuff,” I insisted. “Although I still wish you’d stay put.”

  Ty said quietly, “Maybe I was a kid a few days ago, but the last few days have made me grow up fast. You’re not old, but I know one thing—I’m still a lot younger and faster than you are. I’ve got a better chance of making this work.”

  “Okay,” I reluctantly agreed. Then I said, “Hey, why don’t you see Nana real quick before we head over to the Zombie Lounge?”

  Ty studied me out of slitted eyes. “Why? So that she can talk me out of going in there?”

  Actually, yes. But I realized that Ty wasn’t going to buy it. As I said before, he was a smart kid.

  “Let’s get this over with, then,” I said grimly. I pulled off the small backpack that I’d grabbed that had the .22 and ammo. I hesitated and then asked Ty, “Do you know how to use this? Otherwise, I’ll take it and try to provide you with cover.”