Running To Escape: A Sam & JR Zombie Thriller

by Schobernd, Robert

  The rapist whined, and tears ran down his cheeks. JR grinned evilly and sighted on his flaccid pecker. The rapist eyes grew huge as he saw what she was about to do. Before he could react, he heard the gunshot. He screamed from the pain of the hollow point bullet entering and separating in his flesh before smashing through a testicle. His knees drew upward tightly, and he stared open mouthed at the sight of his shriveled pecker hanging by a thread of skin.

  She knelt beside her victim’s head and jammed the gun barrel under his chin. “I’d like to continue torturing you for days, hotshot, because of what you and your asshole buddies planned to do to me,” JR said, “but that’s really not who I am.” She pulled the trigger and the body flinched in its death dance, then relaxed.

  She stood as Sam stepped close and embraced her. “Oh, God, Sam! I thought I’d be killed after they gangbanged me. Thank you for saving me.” They kissed long and hard.

  Sam said, “Let’s go to the cabin so you can clean up and wash their blood off. I’ll come back and haul the trash away.”

  “No! You’re not leaving me alone ever again. From now on, we’re like joined at the hip. They scared the shit out of me; I was positive they’d rape me and then kill me.”

  “Fine, I like the thought of having you by my side from now on because I love you and intend to spend a long life together.”

  Chapter IV

  Running to Survive

  An hour later they were back at the clearing collecting more guns and ammo from the dead and from inside their truck. The truck had 2,357 miles on it. The keyring had a tag from Eisinger Motors in Kalispell. Sam thought the truck fully loaded with accessories was far above the income level of the trash driving it. It was likely everyone still in the area was driving new trucks or SUVs after the car dealership owners fled or died. Driver’s licenses gave the men’s names. The group’s leader and the younger man were related. Darrell and Patrick Hooper. They loaded the four bodies in the Chevy’s short bed haphazardly before JR drove it to Marion. It was left in Marion parked alongside the highway. JR put a cardboard sign in the rear window: IN MARION THIS HAPPENS TO RAPIST AND MURDERERS. Sam locked the doors and kept the keys in case they might have a need for it later. Driving through town, they shot one zombie, and then continued looking for more but didn’t find any. JR was silent and withdrawn. The vast majority of residents left as the zombies started to arrive, and the town looked totally deserted except for a few zombie carcasses rotting in the streets or yards. Pet dogs were going feral and learning to fend for themselves since their owners left or died. No lap dogs were on the streets; they had likely been taken by their owners or had been devoured by larger mutts in the new dog-eat-dog world.

  Back at the cabin, they walked to the river hand in hand and caught three 15 to 18 inch long trout. Two were rainbows and the other, Sam thought, was a brook trout. Together they cleaned and filleted the fish, then roasted them above an open fire on spits. JR remained pensive and grim.

  They postponed planned work and instead drank several beers from the nearby cold spring water while sitting together on the split log bench in front of the cabin. The sun was low and sinking on the western horizon but still produced warmth. Sam had his left arm around JR’s shoulders holding her close firmly. She’d grown quiet and distant since being attacked. Sam said, “Let’s talk about this morning.”

  He waited patiently, sipped his beer twice. and continued to hug her gently.

  She spoke softly, “I don’t want us to be known as JR and Sam in the same context as Bonnie and Clyde. But damn it I was afraid, pissed, and out of my mind this morning. What I did to that horrible man isn’t who I want to be. What I wanted to do, but didn’t, is even more frightening. I wanted to hurt that man and see the fear in his eyes as I tortured him until he died. He and the others were no good bastards.” Tears dribbled down her cheeks and she trembled. “That’s not me: It can’t be me. I won’t let it be me.”

  Sam waited. He wouldn’t interfere with her thoughts until she let it all out.

  “Do you still love me? Can you love me after I’m like that?”

  He answered softly and seriously. “I still love you. What happened this morning didn’t change a thing in my feeling for you. I had the exact same hatred for those scum that you had. I killed three without even trying to stop them. Since you were the one they threatened and placed in danger, I let you hand out the punishment the lone survivor deserved. If it had progressed into actual physical or even mental torture, I think I would have intervened.

  She turned to look at him with astonishment. “You only THINK you might have?”

  “We’re getting into a gray area. I wanted him to suffer for what he put you through. When that pain crossed a certain level into torture is something I would have had to deal with at the time. Cutting his nuts off and cramming them down his throat for him to choke to death on would have gone too far; but shooting his pecker was, in my opinion, within the limits. Especially since his pain and fear were ended a minute or so later.”

  JR squinted and stared straight ahead as she digested Sam’s thoughts.

  “The main reason I let you handle that rapist this morning,” Sam continued, “was because there will likely be similar incidents in the next few years. In this new world, There Will be Blood. It’s a given. We both need to be hard enough to deal with deviate people in order to protect each other. Today, and in the future, we are the law—police, judge, jury, and executioner. Gradually the frequency might decrease as the worst outlaws are eliminated, but the danger will still be there; it will always be there. Bad behavior will manifest itself in other people of this generation as well as future generations. Previously that behavior was mostly contained by law enforcement, the judicial system, and by religion, and peer pressure. Now, I believe the ratio of those societal rouges may have increased drastically since most law abiding people have left or were eliminated. Their wanton cruelty is a fact we’ll have to deal with the rest of our lives, or we’ll be overcome by them. Consider we’re back in the old west; only there are no Texas Ranges to act as vigilantes and dole out punishment. We have to do it ourselves.”

  “Thank you. I needed to hear that and know you understand. I love you more each and every day. What bothers me most deeply about the whole incident is the racial slur. Darrell Hopper noticed I’m a Native American and was going to enjoy raping the squaw. That was like pouring acid in an open wound. I wanted to kill him for saying that as much as for the actual sex act he was ready to perform. I’m afraid that with these unchecked violent animals racial prejudice will again be rampant.”

  They embraced and kissed before Sam said, “I’m in love with you too. I have the same feelings for you, and I’ll protect you with my own life.”

  JR fetched two fresh beers from the stream, and they sat in awe of the fading gray-orange sunset. Smokey lay against JR’s foot with his head on his outstretched paws. Sam realized he had never before thought about sacrificing his life for the love of another person. JR was the sole reason for that change, and he realized it was because he recognized his deep devotion to her. It seemed impossible they had only known each other such a short time—a matter of weeks. The yearlong period he dated Ari had been the superficial want of a boy needing to attach himself to someone deemed desirable. That attachment had been for all the wrong reasons. Since meeting and falling in love with JR, he realized Ari had been pretty, but shallow, demanding, and self-centered. Her abandoning him hurt at the time, but he now saw that loss as a minor hardship compared to the thought of losing JR through some tragedy.

  That night JR cried out several times in her sleep. Sam woke and held her and comforted her until she drifted into a troubled sleep again.

  Sam finished the closet the next day. He’d thought about building a doghouse for Smokey but didn’t relish the idea of leaving him outside in the winter while they were warm and dry inside. JR solved the problem that night by putting a heavy blanket on the floor across the room and telling Smokey to
stay on it when they went to bed. In their most passionate throes of lovemaking, when she was at her loudest, they heard Smokey growling and slinking toward their bed. They paused for both to tell the dog to get back on his bed and stay there. After three admonishments, he obeyed, and they continued to blissful satiation.

  Near the week’s end they made a run to Charlie’s for lumber and wire fence material to build a fence around the chicken house to keep foxes, lynxes, or wolverines out at night. JR drove.

  A mile before reaching Charlies Place, JR took note of a faded painted sign she’d seen several times before in passing. It suddenly had new meaning. “Look Sam. Hooper’s Auto Salvage. An arrow points up that hill on that gravel road. I wonder if it’s the same Hoopers we encountered the other day?”

  “Don’t know, but I bet we’ll eventually find out if it is.”

  A small graveled parking lot beside the old, weathered sign held two old, beat-up, abandoned cars with space for three more. Door glass high weeds had grown thickly to encompass both old hulks.

  At Charlie’s place JR drove past the fuel pumps, then turned in toward the lumber storage shed and parked well past the store’s back entrance. After finding fence staples they planned to load the wire and treated fence post. No other vehicles were around. They had agreed to enter Charlie’s private area above the store later to take anything they could use from there. Sam entered the dim store alone while JR squatted beside the truck and poured water in her palm for Smokey to drink.

  Inside, Sam walked single-mindedly toward the area where nails and screws were shelved. He thought about starting the smaller generator but passed on that because he would only be inside a few minutes. A flashlight lit his way through the semidarkness and would be needed to sort through the various sized fasteners. He needed staples to attach the fence material to the wood frame and post he’d build. He was a fourth of the way down an aisle when two bearded men stepped out from shadows at the end of the aisle. In the flashlight beam, the men’s clothes matched their overall grubby appearance. One was tall and heavy, the other shorter and thin. Both were grim. Tall and heavy said, “What are you after?” Short and thin stared with a nasty smirk.

  Sam remained calm. Both men were armed. Tall and heavy had a holstered handgun and short and thin cradled a shotgun in the crook of his arm. “I need nails and materials to build a fence. Charlie said I could take whatever I need. What are you here for?”

  Tall and heavy shrugged. “Whatever we want.”

  Sam didn’t like the smartassed answer and eyed the men suspiciously.

  A woman wearing socks snuck up behind Sam while he focused on the danger confronting him. She swung a medium size cast iron skillet at the back of his head; the flashlight fell to the floor noisily as he collapsed instantly to the wood floor.

  “Now what do we do with him?” the woman asked.

  “Decide that when he wakes up. We’ll find out where he lives and decide if he might have anything we might want. Tie his hands.” Tall and heavy nodded toward spools of rope hung on a four foot long piece of pipe. In the dim light filtering through the front windows, she pulled a hunting knife from a sheath on her belt to cut a three foot length of 3/8 inch rope, then sat on her haunches and tied Sam’s hands behind him where he laid on his side with his back to her.

  JR stood out of sight on the small back porch near the unused generators listening, observing, thinking, and worrying. She had approached the doorway as the woman sneaked upon Sam and swung the skillet. She heard Sam hit the floor, then heard two men talk in soft tones as the woman sat behind Sam with a rope in her hand and a smirk on her face. She appeared to be young, twenty or twenty-two, scrawny, and rough. The men sounded somewhat older.

  JR squatted close to Smokey. “Heel Smokey,” she whispered. She untied her boots and sat them against the building. Sneakiness appeared to be the order of the day. Fearing for Sam’s safety, she cautiously snuck inside the store keeping out of sight behind shelves beside the aisle where the people were. The three strangers were still talking. She stepped around the shelves and from thirty feet shot tall and heavy in the forehead with a double tap and then shot short and thin in the chest three times. At her third shot the shotgun raised and roared as flames belched at her. Lead shot splattered the wall behind her and three feet to her right. She shifted the sights to the woman and froze. The knife was at Sam’s throat.

  The pimple faced blonde smirked. “Shoot me and I’ll rip his throat out before I die.”

  “Where I’m from we call this a Mexican standoff. I’m JR, what’s your name?”

  “Sil, for Sylvia. If you want this guy to live, holster your gun and we’ll work this out.”

  JR knew she couldn’t hold a firing stance with her arms extended indefinitely, so she lowered her gun to her side. She saw Sam move—the gun blasts must have brought him around. “Okay, how do we end this?”

  Sil pushed for an advantage. “Holster your gun, then we talk.”

  JR shook her head. “No. This is as far as I go. Talk to me.”

  “If you don’t do like I say I’ll cut his throat right now. Holster it.”

  “Cut him even a scratch and you’re dead. I’ve grown use to him, but in this world men are a dime a dozen; I’ll find another one by suppertime . . . but you’ll be dead. Those two corpses prove my shooting accuracy. My only offer to you is this, move the knife, stand, and walk out of here alive. That’s all I have to say. Finito”

  Sil squinted. “How do I know you’ll let me go? You might shoot me as soon as he’s safe.”

  “Because we’re making a deal, and I’m giving you my word. Makeup your mind fast; I intend to have a man in my bed by dark.”

  Sil seemed to relax slightly but still had a hard look.

  JR didn’t trust her and made a quick, risky decision. She didn’t see another solution and prayed she was right. Smokey was at her left. A diversion was needed. “Smokey, attack!” She took two fast sidesteps to the right for a clear shot.

  Smokey snarled and lunged forward as JR raised both arms and yelled, “Stop Smokey stop!”

  Sil raised both arms in self-defense and squealed in fright at the canine’s unexpected snarling attack, but Smoky slid to a stop five feet from her. Sil was exposed with the knife in front of her. JR fired four times in quick succession starting at Sil’s chest, then walking each shot upward toward her forehead to hit all the major strike zones. Sylvia’s wasted body rolled sideways to the wood floor two seconds after her knife clunked down.

  JR rushed to Sam and picked up the knife and cut his binding. He tried to stand but JR was all over him hugging and kissing. “Oh, my god Sam, I thought I might lose you. I realized then how much I love you and need you.” Smokey was entwined with them both busily licking exposed skin.

  When the two lovers stood, Sam hugged her tightly and said, “By supper time, huh?”

  “If I knew you didn’t have a concussion, I’d smack you in the head for that. I’d say damn near anything to save your handsome ass. How are you. Got a headache I bet. She moved her left hand to his skull and felt a large bump. His hand joined hers as he blinked, grimaced, and shook his head.

  “I assume she hit me. What the hell did she use, a Louisville Slugger ball bat?”

  “Worse.” JR pointed to the skillet where it lay on the floor. “That. It’s just like her: hard and dark.”

  She squatted. “Now thank Smokey; he created the diversion I needed to tap that cold bitch. He performed perfectly. That obedience training paid off and saved you.”

  After paying attention to Smokey, the lovers reaffirmed staying closer together, but Sam pointed out that could have gotten them both captured and maybe killed. He stressed in some cases a little distance was a good thing for backup.

  Sam wondered aloud, “Why didn’t we see a vehicle when we arrived? Did they park off a way and walk in? Surely they weren’t that energetic.” Sam pick up the still functioning flashlight and found the staples he needed.

  Outside,
they circled the large building and didn’t see a vehicle. Together they focused on where a vehicle could be hiding in plain sight. “Charlie’s garage,” JR said. Inside they found a fairly new maroon Dodge Durango. They closed the two wood doors and left the car inside with the keys in it.

  “Charlie’s four-wheeler is under the lumber shed. I’ll dispose of the bodies,” Sam pointed toward where two ridges met. “There’s surely a gully where rainwater runs off those steep ridges. “Damn I get tired of dragging dead bodies around.”

  JR nodded. “Better them than you, Handsome.” Solemnly she said, “I must be getting used to this because shooting Silvia doesn’t bother me. The bitch deserved it.”

  An hour passed before the trio made their way to Charlie’s apartment. They climbed the narrow, creaking wood stairs and entered the kitchen. The room was functional but sparse. JR found a drawer full of ornate stainless steel flatware and gathered it while Sam was drawn to an antique windup oak kitchen clock with a glass front door. He found the wind-up key inside the case under the stopped pendulum. JR put three bottles of cooking oil and some canned goods in a cardboard box. They gave the other three rooms a cursory inspection and nothing of interest drew them except several books. Three crime novels and several how-to hardcover books joined their other swag. Sam said, “Thank God Charlie didn’t have any zombie Apocalypse novels. I’d burn the damn things.” Charlie lived an austere and simple existence. On the stairs Sam asked, “Don’t you think we already have enough canned goods to get through the winter?”

  “We do. But seeds we plant won’t be edible until mid-summer, so we need canned stuff to last till then. There’s also no guarantee our home canning the first season will be successful, so I want enough canned goods to last well into the following winter.”

  “Good planning. I hadn’t thought about that angle.”

  “That’s why we make a strong couple; we each have strengths that complement the other partner.