Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community (13 page)

“John…wait,” Doctor Connelly said.

“Doc, I don’t have time to discuss this.”

“No, listen. The banging has stopped.”

I listened for a minute. The clinic had gone silent.

I stepped to the door and listened. No banging, scraping, or moaning. No bloody hands pressed on the glass panels. Only handprints smeared on the glass. I took a quick look through the grimy window at the hallway beyond. It was empty. The Red-Eyes had left.

Ben came to the door next to me. “Where did they go? Did they give up?”

I thought about it for a second. “No. They went back into hiding. They know where we are. They’re just going to wait till we walk outside.”

Doctor Connelly shook her head. “So we’re trapped.” She handed my gun back.

I looked around the clinic to see if I could find anything that might help us out of this jam. “Maybe not. Find something that will burn.”

“Find something that will burn?” the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “What are you going to do?”

Ben found some alcohol, and a few other flammable liquids among the wreckage of the clinic. He put them on a small table. I located two small glass bottles, and began making some crude Molotov cocktails. “Just a little trick I learned on the road, Doc.”

The plan was simple.

Ben would carry Ryan to the front door. Doctor Connelly, with Amy in tow, would follow. The Red-Eyes would probably attack. That would be our cue to start running like hell to the SUV. When we got to the truck, I was to going to throw my little flaming beauties at any other Red-Eyes. This, I hoped, would divert the zombies long enough for everyone to load. Then, Ben and I would get in the SUV and escape. Ben would drive.

Simple.

I was going to use the makeshift Molotov cocktails I had made from old hospital rags and alcohol. The firebombs would hopefully ignite, and distract or repel them. It’s a tactic I had used before. Claire and I had been trapped in a store with about two-dozen Yellow-Eyes blocking our escape. In that case, it had been cheap Scotch that had been in the bombs that day. The plan worked, and a path developed for Claire and I to run away. It was still a close call.

Not to mention, those zombies had been Yellow-Eyes. I didn’t know if the Red-Eyes were going to fall for the same trick. These zombie bastards were smarter. As we stepped to the door, I scanned the lines of wrecked vehicles from end to end, but saw no movement. These little red eyed devils knew how to hide, too. I was beginning to understand them a little. They were starting to hang out in the areas where humans, their primary food source,hid After all, why hunt when you can wait and the food may walk right into your mouth.

“Ready?” I said to our little survivor group. Everyone that could, nodded yes. Ben shifted his grip on the ailing Ryan and got ready to exit into the unknown. It was going to be close, and we had to move quick. We were going to be somewhat defenseless until we got to our escape vehicle.

We all took a deep cleansing breath, then Ben and I opened the door. We left the clinic in a tight group, focused on getting to the truck. No wasted steps. All I heard was heavy breathing and the sounds of our shoes on the pavement. Our little group reached the vehicle in record time. Ben threw open one of the rear doors, and with Doctor Connelly’s help, they carefully stuffed Ryan inside. The doctor followed with Amy. She picked up and threw her bags in the back, then belted herself in for the ride. It seemed we were moving in slow motion.
Too slow. Come on, guys. Let’s go.

Movement from across the street. Two over-anxious Red-Eyes popped up and started towards the SUV. We were still exposed as we tried to get Ryan in the backseat. The Red-Eyes got closer, snarling and hissing as they approached. They spread out to cut off any escape routes. Four more came out and joined the first group. There were probably more out there.

We’re out of time.
I left Ben to finish with Ryan. I ran around the back of the vehicle to the passenger side, pausing only to light the cloth fuses on my bombs. The Red-Eyes saw me and turned in my direction. I was their new, delicious target. Thankfully, the fuses lit, and when I got close enough, I flung them in front of the approaching zombies.

The liquid spread out and flared into two small fires. In a few seconds, a huge, continuous semi circle of flame developed around our escape vehicle. The undead stopped in their tracks and tried to shield themselves from the flames. The plan was working: the zombies were now being held at bay behind a flaming barricade. A brief window of escape had opened up.

“We have to go!” I shouted to Ben. I didn’t have to tell him twice. He was in the driver’s seat in a flash. I pulled the passenger door open. The doctor was ready to go, with Ryan lying across her lap. Amy clung to her like a vine. They both had a wild look of fear on their faces. I heard the big SUV come to life as I started to get in the vehicle. The plan had worked. We were going to get away from this hellhole. We might actually survive this.

That’s when a flaming zombie came up and took hold of my jacket.

It was a female. She grabbed me by the collar with a horribly burned arm. Its flesh was a weird dark-red, like an overdone hot dog. I grabbed onto the assist handle in the passenger doorway with my left hand as she began to pull me away from the SUV. Although her face was burned almost to the bone, I could still see her red eyes burning out of her skull. Her skeletal mouth twisted into a horrible grimace as she took hold of my jacket with her other toasted hand. Instead of trying to bite me, she was going to drag me out to her friends so they could feed. I felt my grip beginning to weaken on the SUV. I don’t know how it was possible, but these things got really strong despite the disadvantage of being dead. With my free right hand, I drew my gun and shot at the closest target.

I shot her in the knee.

With an ear-piercing shriek, she let go of me and crumpled to the ground. Another Red-Eye, this one a large male, reached in to take hold of me. I raised my gun and put a bullet in his skull. He joined his smoking friend on the ground. I swung into the front seat and slammed the door before any more deadheads could grab onto something.

As I closed the door, the SUV was suddenly engulfed in zombies. It seemed like a hundred pairs of hands began to pound on the glass and bodywork. A couple of them began to ram their heads and shoulders against the car. The SUV began to rock and sway as more and more began to strike the sides. Amy began to cry.

Ben slammed the gearshift lever into drive, but before he could press the gas, a Red-Eye jumped on the expansive hood of our vehicle. Ben and I both recoiled in fear as the zombie turned toward the windshield and slammed its head against the glass. It was a young male, with greasy, blond hair. His lower jaw was blackened by fire and gore, but he was very strong and intact. He looked at both of us, then slammed himself against the glass again. A spiderweb of cracks radiated from the impact point.

Ben slammed the gas pedal to the floor, and the big American SUV shot forward like a missile. The zombie on the hood lost his balance and fell. He grabbed the hood to right himself, but then the half-cremated Red-Eye lost his grip and fell in front of the vehicle. Not even scratched, it stood in our way and prepared another attack. Ben pressed the gas pedal to the floor again and ran the undead bastard over. He disappeared under the grill with a screech in his throat. The SUV jumped and skittered on the road as we crushed him underneath the heavy weight of our vehicle.

With wheels spinning, we made it to the corner. Ben skillfully turned the steering wheel to get us on the road to home. As we passed the side entrance, more angry looking Red-Eyes came out of hiding and blocked the road. Ben put his foot down on the gas pedal. He smashed through the line of undead, and they scattered like bowling pins. The hood of our vehicle was slightly bent up in the collision. The damage seemed to be only cosmetic.

Ben glanced off another car, but was able to steer our behemoth SUV into the clear. We left the clinic behind us in a cloud of dust. I looked to our rear and saw several Red-Eyes giving chase. For a moment, it looked like they might be able to keep up with us, running with amazing superhuman ability. I prepared for battle, but eventually the zombies gave up and went back into hiding.

We had escaped the horror of the clinic, but it had been a close call.

Ben drove for a few more miles, then pulled over to collect himself. He put the SUV in park and rested his head on the steering wheel. Young Amy was softly crying, and Doctor Connelly was as white as a sheet. I patted Ben on the shoulder. “Nice driving, partner.”

Ben’s hands were shaking, and his eyes were wide as the adrenaline faded from his body. “I was a delivery driver in my younger days. Never had customers like those guys.” Despite the gravity of the moment, we both managed a weak laugh.

I turned to the back seat. “Everybody okay in the back?”

The doctor nodded that she was okay. After a few tries, she found her voice. “Are you okay, John? That zombie had a pretty good grip on you.” She checked my arm and shoulder.

“I’m fine.” The grasping hands of the beast had been pretty close to my neck. My jacket bore the scars of battle. One of the monster’s fingernails was embedded in the fabric. The collar was ripped, and it was stained with old blood and grime from the grip of the dead. “May need a new jacket though.” The doctor smiled a little.

Ryan groaned as he shifted on the back seat. Doctor Connelly quickly checked his bandage, and felt his forehead. She frowned as she examined him.

“How’s he doing?” Ben asked.

“Not good,” the doctor answered. “The wound has opened up again. I need a place to work on him a little.”

I turned to Ben. “Let’s go to Safety One. There’s some supplies there.”

Ben put the SUV in gear. “I’ll get us there as quickly as I can.” He drove into the center of the road, and took off at moderate speed.

I turned to face front, and silently said a quick prayer. Time was running out, and I hoped we could get Ryan the help he needed in time.

We rode in silence through the ruins of civilization. Ryan’s map was damaged by the bullet that entered his backpack and the blood that followed. Ben was simply following the route back to Safety One from memory. The struggle at the clinic had taken something out of us, and we didn’t feel like any conversation. Ben drove with a purpose, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. So far, no one had bothered us. Even with all the cosmetic damage from the battle with the Red-Eyes at the clinic, our vehicle ran fine. I was thankful for that.

We had already passed the house where we had entombed Jenny. A quick glance told me that nothing had been disturbed. The little house was still intact, and the door was closed. Thankfully, Jenny could rest in peace.

We came to the intersection where the guys in the white truck jumped us. The truck was still there, and a couple of zombies were poking around the back door. Ben tried to drive slowly around the wrecks and get on down the road. The zombies didn’t see us, and we moved on.

We returned to silence as we made our way to Safety One. I glanced at Doctor Connelly in the back seat. She was holding Amy, who was napping lightly. Ryan was lying on the seat beside her. It was a full house in the back of the SUV. The doctor stared out the window wistfully, watching the remains of human life pass by.

“What are you thinking about, Doc?” I asked.

She looked at me with tired, red-rimmed eyes. “Tokyo.”

“Come again?”

A smile crossed her lips. “I was just wondering about Tokyo. I spent a summer there with a friend during a break from medical school.”

“Nice place?” I asked. Gia and I always wanted to travel, but the closest I had been to Tokyo was the local Japanese restaurant. The only traveling we had ever done was the occasional trip to Biloxi, Mississippi to enjoy the beach and to do a little gambling.

Doctor Connelly smiled as the memories came flooding back. “Great city. Full of life. There was a crowd everywhere you went. There were neon lights on all the buildings, and the food…let’s just say you didn’t leave Tokyo hungry. I had a wonderful month staying there. I almost thought about moving there for a while.”

“So what made you think of Tokyo?”

The doctor looked down at the dirty floor of the truck. “I was wondering what it looked like now. I suppose it’s full of undead. The neon probably doesn’t light up anymore, either.”

Doctor Connelly brought up an interesting point. I began to wonder what the cities of the world looked like now. Places like Paris, London, and Moscow. Even some places closer to home came to mind, like New York or Chicago. The great cities of the world, at least the ones not firebombed, were probably crawling with undead, the empty streets and slowly decaying buildings no longer fit for the living. It had been over a year since humanity’s downfall, and nature was taking over. Weeds and wildflowers were probably growing on sidewalks and streets. The cities probably resembled grassland by now. A vision of deer and other wild animals grazing on Wall Street crossed my mind. We may never be able to set it right. Maybe just fence all around it and move on.

Ryan groaned, and interrupted my thoughts about dead cities. He was pale and sweaty. It didn’t take a doctor to know he was fading fast. Doctor Connelly made a quick check under his bandage. The look on her face told me everything I needed to know: Ryan wasn’t doing too well.

“How’s he doing?” I asked, knowing full well Ryan was dying as we sat there.

The doctor leaned forward to talk to me in private. “He’s hanging in there, but I need to repack the wound.” She glanced back at Ryan. “He’s slowly bleeding to death.”

“It’ll be okay. We’re pretty close now.”

Ben found the entrance to the mall where Safety One was located. I noticed that he signaled his turn like a safe driver. He flicked the turn signal on as made a perfect turn into the wreck-filled driveway. He gave me a sheepish look. “Sorry. Force of habit on the turn signal.”

“Yeah. You don’t want to attract any undue attention from the cops, right?” I said.

“Right. Black man driving a stolen SUV. Man, I’d be in serious trouble,” Ben joked.

Ben drove as quickly as he could to Safety One. Everything looked clear as we approached the old ice cream parlor. The bodies of the Yellow-Eyes we had dispatched remained on the ground near the door. Our first visit to Safety One that morning seemed like a hundred years ago.

As we got close, Ben stopped. He glanced in the rear-view mirror with an intense look in his eye. “What’s the matter, Ben?” I asked.

He wheeled the SUV into a parking space hidden from sight among the wreckage of the lot. “Nothing. Thought I saw something moving behind us.”

“Living or dead?”

Ben looked a little concerned. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s be careful then.”

We exited the SUV, and hurried to the front door of Safety One. Ben was helping Ryan, and the doctor had Amy in her arms. When we got to the door, Ben searched his pocket and found the key. We took it from Jenny’s body before we entombed her.

Ben unlocked the door and let us inside. After he locked us in, we all went into action. I carried Ryan to the back room and the doctor cleared off a stainless-steel counter. I laid Ryan’s limp body on the counter, while Ben brought in some bandages and other medical supplies. The doctor produced some gloves from her bag. She rolled Ryan onto his side, and prepared to remove the bloody bandage on his back.

She shot a quick glance at Amy. “Uh, Ben? Maybe you and John could take Amy into the other room, and find something for her to eat.

“Okay, good.” Ben took hold of Amy’s hand. “Come on. Let’s find some food.”

For a second, Amy looked a little scared to go with Ben, but the big smile on his face calmed her nerves, and she took his hand. We walked into the main room of Safety One. Ben found a box of cookies among the supplies, and gave a few to Amy. After looking at us and the cookies a little suspiciously, she took them from Ben’s hand. I set up a few chairs for us to relax on while we waited for the doctor to finish her work.

Ben sighed as he sat down. “It was supposed to be an easy trip. Get in, grab the doctor, and get home. Simple, but elegant. Jenny planned the whole thing.” He shook his head. “She said it was going to be easy. I guess we screwed up.” He put his head in his hands. “I guess we need more experience out here if we’re going to survive this mess.”

The world had changed, and not for the better. The skill sets needed to survive took time to learn. I leaned forward in my chair. “It’s okay. Nothing is easy anymore.”

Ben looked at me with tired-looking eyes. The strain of the day was showing. “What if Ryan doesn’t make it?”

“The doctor will do her best. From what I’ve seen so far, he’s in good hands.”

“Yeah. Hate to lose anybody else.”

I rubbed my eyes with my hands. My shoulder hurt where the flaming Red-Eye had grabbed me. The ordeal of the clinic came back and weighed on my head. “Ryan told me to leave him there. He told me to save everyone else and leave him there.”

“Really?” Ben looked at his shoes. “Pretty heroic. I guess he thought he would slow us down.”

I shook my head. “No. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave him there to die. Still feel bad.”

“Why?” Ben handed Amy another cookie. Sugar, this time.

I sighed heavily. “You’re right. He was going to slow us down. Most survivors would have left him there for the zombies. Couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make that decision.” I looked at the ground despondently. “I’m weak like that I guess. It’s a wonder how Claire and I survived out here.”

Ben put his hand on my shoulder. “No. That’s what makes you human. It makes you strong. Strong enough to survive.”

I looked Ben in the eye. He had wisdom beyond his years. “You think so?”

Ben smiled. “Do you think we just rescued you and little Claire because we felt like it? Denise doesn’t let just anybody from the outside into our little family of Cannon Fields. Odegard from Double-Six told Denise you guys were different. She doesn’t just pick people who can shoot, or scrounge, or use a hammer. She picks people with humanity. People with good hearts and minds. People who won’t abandon friends when things go bad. That’s why you volunteered for this trip, and that’s why you jumped into the firefights and took care of Jenny when she was bitten. That’s why you couldn’t leave Ryan at that clinic.”

Ben paused, and sat back in his chair. “My Momma told me, when this whole apocalypse thing started, It’s no use surviving if you can’t hold on to who you are. It’s something we aspire to in Cannon Fields. We’re going to make it, but we’re not going to become like the others out there…alive or dead.”

“You know. When we get back, I want to meet your mother. She sounds like a smart lady,” I said.

Ben’s smile got bigger. “That she is, John. That she is.”

We sat there for about another half hour, eating cookies and trying to keep Amy entertained. Ben made silly faces that made Amy smile, but she remained silent. No matter what we did to make her talk, no words. Only smiles.

Ben was in the middle of telling Amy a story when Doctor Connelly came out of the back room. Her hands were slick with Ryan’s blood, and some had found its way to her white coat. I could tell by the look on her face that things hadn’t gone well. Doctor Connelly removed her gloves and walked towards us. Ben and I stood up to receive the news.

“I did my best. I can’t get to the bullet. Ryan would bleed to death before I could remove it.” She sat down heavily into a chair. “I guess it’s up to Ryan now. I repacked the wound and put on a fresh bandage. At least, we might be able to get him home. I can try and remove the bullet there.”

Not the greatest news. “Is he going to make it?” Ben asked.

The doctor stared into space. “Maybe. He’s lost a lot of blood. I gave him an antibiotic to fight the inevitable infection. If he survives that, and the wound, and moving him around, he has a chance. And even if he survives, he could be paralyzed.”

“Still no feeling in his legs?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine the horror of being paralyzed when facing a horde of undead.

“He was too out of it to ask, but I saw some movement in his toes when I was examining him. That could be good news.”

I tried to reassure the doctor. “Doc, you did…”

I didn’t get to finish my thought. The storefront exploded in a shower of glass. It was followed by automatic weapons fire from the parking lot.

We all scrambled for cover behind the ice cream counter. The only thing that kept us from dying in a blaze of glory was the fact that whoever was shooting at us had terrible aim. Bullets zinged and ricocheted around the old ice cream parlor. The counter was not great cover. The bullets were smashing glass, and slicing through the thin metal.

My ears were ringing.
Must have been some sort of grenade or something that torched the window.
I watched as Ben fired back at our unknown attackers. There was so much smoke and dust that he was basically firing blind. The doctor was on the floor near Ben’s feet, shielding Amy. The bullets continued to fly into the store with only small pauses between each volley.

I knew who it was: Wallace’s goons from the clinic had followed us. All this gunplay was going to draw every Red-Eye in the county.

After a few more exchanges, the gunfire stopped. My ears began to clear up. I heard a voice from outside the ice cream store.

“John Linder? Are you in there?”

Ben, Doctor Connelly, and I looked at each other. “Someone you know?” the doctor asked.

I stood up, and looked out the shattered store window. The parking lot was empty. “Who wants to know?” I shouted into the unknown.

A thin voice came from someone in hiding. “I want to talk to John Linder. Is that who is talking?”

This conversation was ridiculous. “I’m coming out.”

Ben ran over to the window. “You’re kidding, right? They’re going to shoot you.”

“Don’t think so. If they wanted to shoot me, they wouldn’t have started a conversation.”

I stepped outside through the shattered window and into the parking lot. The smoke and dust from the battle was beginning to clear. I could make out the shapes various cars and trucks as I walked out of Safety One. I walked slowly, making sure my hands were in plain sight.

“That’s far enough.”

A skinny young man with a crew cut materialized out of the gloom. He was wearing a gray city- camo uniform that was about a size too big. I guess boots weren’t part of the uniform. He was wearing regular running shoes. He looked like a kid playing soldier.

Except he was carrying a really big gun.

The boy-soldier pointed a machine gun at my chest. Attached underneath, and doubling as a grip, was a small tube that I assumed was some sort of grenade launcher. He must have been the one to shatter the window of the ice cream parlor.

“You John Linder?” he asked, in a heavy Southern accent.

“Who wants to know?”

“Are you John Linder?” he said, ignoring my question.

“Yeah. That’s me. I’m John Linder.”

“Hey, Rick! I told you it was him.” Another citizen-soldier, this time dressed in a white shirt with camo pants, walked up from my right side. He was holding a rifle as well. “You owe me a daily ration, son!”

“He don’t look so tough up close. Just looks like an old man to me,” Rick said.

Old man?
Rick and the mystery man came closer and semi-surrounded me. For a second, I thought they were going to shoot me where I stood. My hand crept to my gun.

The boy-soldier raised his rifle. “None of that. Let’s see those hands.” I turned my hands palm out, and froze in place. These guys meant business.

“Greg, just shoot him and be done with it. I’m tired of following this asshole around,” Rick said, with disgust in his voice.

Greg laughed. “No way, man. We’re bringing him back alive. Can you imagine the reward we’ll get from the boss man?”

They had been following us all day. “How long have you been tailing us?” I asked, eying the gun now in my chest.

Greg laughed again. It was a coarse, almost evil laugh. A real douchebag laugh. “Man, we’ve been on your ass all day. Me, Rick, and the late great Bobby Johnson have been following you all afternoon. You know Bobby, right? He’s the one that got eaten at the clinic during our first meeting. He had our goddamn radio too. I knew we should have brought two.”