Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community (5 page)

Claire disappeared into the weeds beside the road. She barely had time to scream.

I went in after her. I pushed through the wild grasses and clinging vines and found Claire struggling on the ground with a large human-shaped being on top of her. In the early dawn light, I couldn’t tell if this person was alive or dead. I would have to see their eyes. Not waiting for whatever it was to notice me, I went on the attack.

I hurried over and grabbed the dark shape trying to kill Claire around the neck. We rolled on the ground for a bit, with me winding up on top. I drew my gun and jabbed it into the specter’s neck. As prepared to pull the trigger, a human voice said, “Wait! Wait! Don’t shoot!”

It wasn’t a zombie that had grabbed Claire. I pulled my gun away and let the mystery person off the ground. A heavy-set man, maybe in his mid-thirties, got to his feet in front of me. He was wearing jeans and a camo shirt and jacket. An automatic rifle was slung across his chest. He flexed his shoulder in pain. “Geez. Going to feel that in the morning. Sorry ‘bout the drama. My name is Mitch.” He extended his hand.

I ignored him, and went to Claire. She was just getting off the ground. I helped her up and brushed her off. “You okay?”

She was breathing hard, with a slight wheeze. “I’m fine. Mitch here tripped and fell.” She knelt down to catch her breath. “Knocked the wind out of me.”

Mitch came up beside me. “Oh, man. I’m sorry.” He scratched his head. “Don’t know my own strength sometimes, I guess.”

“Are you supposed to pick us up?” I shook Mitch’s hand.

“Yeah. The Deadheads were circling, so they dropped me off with the heavy hardware.” He tapped the rifle on his chest. “My associates moved to a more secure location. I’ll signal them to come back.”

Deadheads. That was a new nickname for the undead. Hadn’t heard that one before.

Mitch ran out to the edge of the road and produced a small flashlight. He pointed it down the road and waved it around vigorously. He must have got an answer, because he ran back almost immediately. “Okay, they’re on the way.”

The moaning and growls of the zombies in the woods were getting louder and closer. “They better hurry. Bad things are coming,” I said.

Several agonizing minutes later, I heard an internal combustion engine coming towards us at high speed. Mitch turned to Claire and I and said, “Here they come. Let’s get to where they can see us.”

We moved out of the weeds and stood on the side of the road. I was not feeling good about our situation. We were standing in the open in the increasing light of morning. In the distance, about half a mile away, I could make out two headlights coming our way. Behind us, I could sense the Red-Eyes were sizing things up and getting ready to attack.

“Here they come. Fastest vehicle we have. We made a few modifications,” Mitch said with pride. As he spoke, an orange full-size van came into view. It slid to a stop in front of us. Mitch ran up to the siding side door and yanked it open. “Okay, guys. All aboard.”

Claire and I hurried into the dark van, unsure of what was going to happen next. I got in, and Mitch had started to climb aboard when something horrible stepped up behind him. It was two hungry Red-Eyes, hunched over and foaming at the mouth.

“Mitch! Get in the van!” I yelled. He started to climb into the vehicle. He had gotten halfway in when the zombies attacked and grabbed him. They started to pull him outside.

We were now in a fight for our lives.

The van began to rock back and forth as the battle raged at the sliding door. I grabbed Mitch’s right arm and shoulder, but the zombies had him by the legs. There were a least three of them, and they were pretty strong. Mitch’s eyes went wide. Claire grabbed me about the waist to keep me inside the van. The door was a mass of human and zombie appendages.

I heard a female voice come from the driver’s seat of the van. “Ryan! Shoot the ugly bastards!”

As I struggled to keep to keep Mitch in the van, I heard a few shots go off. They were not effective. I heard a male voice from the front. “Dammit! Can’t get a shot!”

“Go outside and shoot,” the female voice said.

“I’m not going out there. The place is swarming,” the male voice answered.

While the two people in the front of the van argued strategy, I began to lose the battle to the zombies. There was just too many of them, and they were too strong. They began to slowly drag Mitch to his doom, and Claire and I along with him.

Then, the inevitable happened. Mitch was nearly out the door when an unseen zombie outside sank its teeth into his arm. Mitch let out a blood-curdling scream and went limp. The gang of zombies at the door began to drag him out quicker, as I lost my grip. Mitch looked at me with panicked eyes, but he knew it was done. Another Red-Eye forced its way into the van and bit him on the neck. The bite caught his jugular and blood exploded all over me. I caught it mostly on the face and chest. The copper taste of blood tingled on my tongue. With that, Mitch was dragged, screaming from the door. At least half a dozen Red-Eyes converged on Mitch and began to feed. I slammed the door shut on the deadly scene, and collapsed to the floor of the orange van.

“Let’s go!” Claire yelled. The female driver floored the gas, ran a few zombies over, and pulled away from the gravel path.

I sat up, feeling weak and wasted. My hands, face, and chest were covered with blood. Mitch’s blood. I felt dizzy.

Claire steadied me, and we sat down on the floor. I tried to wipe the blood off. “Claire, I’m covered in blood.” I was very close to passing out. The world began to go a little dark.

Claire produced a handkerchief from her pocket and started to wipe off the blood from the battle at the door. “It’s okay, Tiger. I got it.” She put her arm around me and tried to clean me up.

All the while, the two people in the front seats argued about what happened. The female driver slammed her fists on the steering wheel, and said, “Dammit! Goddammit! We lost Mitch!” Her histrionics caused the van to weave from one side of the road to another.

“Take it easy,” her male companion said. “We did our best.” He glanced at the two of us in the back seat. “I hope they’re worth it.”

The female driver glared at us from behind the wheel. “They better be. They got Mitch killed.”

We drove up the country road, and then turned onto a main route. Claire did the best job she could in cleaning up the blood, but my shirt and jacket were still stained. During our trip, the sun finally came up and began to brighten the sky. Claire and I got our first look at our rescuers. The driver was a tall redhead with glasses. Her long hair was fastened into a ponytail. The male was a young man with a scruffy beard, who didn’t look more than twenty-five years old.

The trip was quiet with little conversation. Neither the redheaded female or her male teammate riding shotgun talked to us at all. Claire and I were quiet, as well. Several times during the trip, we thought maybe they were going to dump us on the side of the road and drive off. Thankfully, the ride continued.
Our rescuers stuck to the back roads. After a few turns, we arrived at our destination. A tan stucco wall appeared at the left. A sign with the words “Cannon Fields” in large, gold, flowing script was attached to the stucco wall near a tall iron gate. A large sheet of plywood was nearby, spray-painted with a bright orange skull. Spray-painted skulls were usually bad news. They were painted by rescue crews when all they found in the houses they searched were zombies.

Someone opened the gate and slid it back. The redhead swung the wheel skillfully, and brought the van inside. She stopped at a little guardhouse. An African-American man approached the van as the redhead rolled down the window. He leaned on the windowsill and leaned into the van. A rifle with a scope was slung on his back. “Hey Jenny. How did it go?” he said in a cheery voice.

“Badly, Ben. We lost Mitch.”

The one she called Ben looked at the ground. “Damn. Lost a good man.” He stepped back and waved us inside.

“Yeah, we did. Hope it was worth it.” She glanced back at us. “I’m going to take these two over to quarantine.”

Quarantine? We were going into another locked room. I felt Claire’s little hand take mine and squeeze. Hopefully, this time we could at least be together.

We drove down a short road, passing small attached townhouses with slightly overgrown lawns and bushes. Even though it was early morning, a few people were out and about doing some chores. Some carried tools and supplies. Others walked in groups with rifles. Maybe they were hunting.

We came to a roundabout, surrounded by a few larger buildings. There were also a few open green spaces that were just starting to look a little overgrown. Even more people were milling around. Everyone looked like they had a job to do. It looked like a nice place.

It would be nice if they didn’t try to kill us.

The female driver brought the van to a brake-screeching halt in front of the largest building on the roundabout. She and her male passenger exited and walked around to the sliding door. It opened to reveal two rifles pointing at us. “Out,” said the tall redhead.

Claire and I quietly exited the van, and stood on the sidewalk. A small crowd began to gather to watch.

“Let’s go. This way.”

“Are you guys going to explain what’s going on?” Claire said defiantly. The redhead called Jenny turned around and glared at her. She towered over the smaller Claire.

“No.” With that, she got Claire by the collar and pulled her away from the van.

Claire started to protest. “Hey, you red-headed bitch! Get your hands off me!”

Jenny got a weird look in her eye, then backhanded Claire across the face. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground. Jenny went in for another strike.

Rifle or no rifle, that was enough. I stepped between Jenny’s striking hand and Claire and said, “You’re not going to hit her again.”

Jenny gave me the evil eye. “Is that so?” She let her rifle hang and drew a large revolver from a holster on her hip. She jammed it into my face. My hand went instinctively to my handgun, but I never got to draw it. The male from the van, called Ryan, and two others aimed rifles at my head. They had me outgunned. I put my hands up as another resident took my gun. These people meant business.

“That’s better,” Jenny said. “Now let’s go.”

I helped Claire off the ground, and we started to walk toward a shed near a swimming pool. Jenny kept her gun trained on us as someone else unlocked the shed and opened the doors. Jenny waved us inside with the gun.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the low light in the shed. It looked to have been at one time a storage area for lawn equipment and other gardening tools. Jenny led us over to three enclosures on the back wall of the shed that looked like cubes of chain-link, resembling dog pens.

Jenny opened the gate on the middle one and waved us inside. “Get in.”

Claire and I stepped into the cage. There was no furniture, no bed, no lockers. Just some old wood and a few dirty blankets. We were going to sleep on the hard concrete floor. After we stepped inside, Jenny slammed the gate and padlocked it closed.

A slight smirk crossed her face. “You two have a good evening.” Jenny and her cohorts turned around, and left us in our chain-link prison. Someone slammed the shed door when they left. At least they left the lights on.

“Well, screw you, too!” Claire yelled to our captors. Her voice echoed in the expanse of the shed. “Now what do we do, Tiger?” She rubbed her face where Jenny had slugged her.

I took off my backpack, cleared a spot on the floor, and sat down. I leaned against the wall and said, “I guess we wait.”

We were locked in our little chain-link bungalow for the rest of the day and the night that followed.

Claire didn’t take it very well. At first, she paced back and forth on the cracked concrete floor like a caged animal. She didn’t like being in captivity. She raged, first at our captors, then at me, then at the world in general, then back to me again. It took a few hours, but she finally grew tired and sat down beside me on the floor.

“I could pick the lock, you know. I learned how to do it,” Claire said. We had picked up a set of locksmith’s tools in our travels and we learned how to use them. With her small hands, Claire had gotten pretty good at opening all kinds of locks.

I opened my eyes and stared at her. I had been taking a little snooze. “Where would we go? That gate at the front looked pretty tall, and good at keeping people inside. Besides, the big redhead is liable to shoot you in the face.”

Claire looked at the ground. “Just hate being caged up. They might kill us anyway.”

Now, I was awake. “They’ll let us out. I don’t think they going to hurt us. They’re just scared.”

Claire sat beside me and put her head on my shoulder. “I hope you’re right. Wish they would feed us.”

“You’re always hungry.”

She put her arms around me for comfort. Claire often did this when she was scared. “Can’t help it. I’m small, and I have a high metabolism.”

Eventually, Claire went to sleep. I stayed awake a little longer watching the outside light fade from a small dirty window. As I watched, the sun finally went down and the window went dark. It was night. The Red-Eyes were now coming out of the woods to hunt. I hoped that the gate that we passed through to get here was strong enough to keep them at bay.

I reviewed our situation. Claire might be right. I didn’t know what these people were capable of doing. This was one of the first really organized groups of survivors Claire and I had encountered in our travels. They could be psychotic, paranoid, or too distrustful to be around. They might take all our belongings, strip us naked, and kick our sorry asses outside the gate.

They could be cannibals.

There were many ways to meet your maker in this new hell of a world, but being eaten by your fellow survivors was not the way I wanted to go. Cannibalism was a rumor that I had discounted, but with the food supply running low, you never knew. Hopefully, Claire and I were too thin to eat.

I wondered who was in charge. Someone had to be in charge. I hoped it wasn’t the tall redhead…Jenny was her name, I think. We hadn’t made a real good first impression. No doubt Jenny blames us for Mitch’s death. I thought about poor Mitch.

Seemed like a nice guy. A little clumsy, but he had sacrificed himself to get Claire and me to Cannon Fields. I tried to erase the look he gave to me as the zombies dragged him out the door. It was a look of pure panic mixed with hopelessness. I had seen it a lot in the past year. It’s a horrible feeling not being able to do anything. I felt useless.

Exhaustion took me, and I closed my eyes. I was going to wake Claire and tell her to keep an eye out but, I decided to let her sleep. The cage would probably keep us safe, and Claire can be a bit cranky when you wake her out of a deep sleep.

After a few hours of fitful sleep, punctuated by dreams of dark hallways and red-eyed demons on the hunt, I heard the door on the shed open. My eyes snapped open instantly. Since the dead started to wake up and walk around, I slept lightly at night. I was always ready to do battle. I squeezed my free hand around my little folding knife. Our new survivor friends forgot to take it from me before locking me up. I would have to fight lefty. My other arm was around Claire.

I pretended to sleep as I heard footsteps approaching our cell. A pair of hiking boots came into view. I slowly looked up. The boots were attached to a thin but still shapely female holding a tray of food. She had on an oversized flannel shirt over a black tank top. Short dark hair framed her face. She was very attractive. I looked into the biggest, roundest green eyes I had ever seen. My heart skipped a beat.
After a few awkward moments of staring at each other, she spoke. “Good morning. I brought you guys some food. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I brought a little of everything.” Her voice was very pleasant and soothing. She bent down to show me the tray. “We have fruit, some yogurt, and a few breakfast pastries.” She slid the tray under the gap in the gate. “I didn’t ask if you guys should be fed, but you both looked so thin.”

Very pretty and compassionate as well. This lady had it all. I decided to be civil. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

She put her hand on the chain-link. “I’m Karen.”

“Hello Karen. I’m John. This young lady lying fast asleep on my chest is Claire.”

Karen looked at Claire. “Is she okay? She looks kind of pale.”

“She’s okay. Just hates being in a cage.”

Karen looked at the ground. She looked a little ashamed. “We’re not bad people. We’re just scared. We’ve had some bad luck with strangers in the past. They’re probably going to let you out of here soon.”

I smiled a little, to put her at ease, and slid my little knife into the inside pocket of my jacket. “I know.”

Karen returned the smile and said, “I’ll get the tray later when I bring you some lunch in a few hours. I think I’ll make some grilled cheese or something.” She got up and started to walk away. She had a nice caboose on her, as well.

“Sounds great. And Karen?” I paused, and she turned around. “You have very pretty eyes.”

Karen blushed a little, as a smirk crossed her lips. She turned around quickly and flew out the door. So much for my charming wit.

“Geez, John. Why don’t you ask her out on a date?” Claire said, without opening her eyes or lifting her head off my chest.

“Well, I thought a compliment would help smooth relations.”

Claire got up, and smoothed her pink-highlighted hair. Her dye job was beginning to fade a little. “Whatever, Romeo. She was kind of cute, I guess. What’s for breakfast?”

“On the tray.” I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. I think I was attracted to Karen. It never occurred to me that I would find anyone else ever again. I thought my wife Gia was it for me. I actually hoped to see Karen again. Claire threw me a banana and some yogurt. She opened one for herself, and we ate a hearty breakfast.

We did see Karen again. She came back a few hours later to give us grilled cheese sandwiches and juice boxes. She also allowed us to use the bathroom - actually a latrine dug in the ground beside the empty swimming pool with a small outhouse built over the top. Unlike last time, she had a small gun in the waistband of her jeans. I hoped my earlier comment about her eyes didn’t cause her to want a gun when she tended to us. This time, there was little small talk. It was all business.

After lunch, we were left alone again. Claire and I began to wonder if they were going to let us rot in here or actually let us go. To pass the time, we practiced throwing our knives. We were attempting to learn the skill. I think it made us more effective zombie-fighters.

“Like this?” Claire held up her pearl-handled folding knife and prepared to throw it at the small piece of plywood I had stood up at the far end of our cell.

“Yeah, that ought to work.”

Claire reared back and flicked her knife at the plywood. The little blade flew through the air and hit the wood with a thud. It stuck in the wood blade first. Claire was becoming a good shot.

“Your turn. Try to get close to mine,” Claire said.

I held my knife up and threw it with a slight sidearm motion. It flashed across the chain-link enclosure and stuck in the wood about a half-inch from Claire’s blade.

“Nice shot,” Claire said, with a bit of admiration in her voice. “You’ll have to show me that sidearm throw one day.”

“You bet.” I got up and walked over to our improvised target to retrieve our knives. “You know, I think we’re getting pretty good.”

Claire took her knife from my hand. She folded it carefully and put it in her jeans pocket. “You’re right. Add another skill to our resume.” She giggled a little.

Our knife-throwing session was interrupted by the opening shed door. Claire and I stood up to face our captors. Claire stood slightly behind my back. Jenny came to the gate, and took out a small key chain with about a hundred small keys. She unlocked the swinging gate and stood aside.

“Well, come on. Management wants to see you both,” she said. There was no rifle this time, no gun shoved in our backs, and no slapping of faces. Jenny had a handgun, but it remained in her holster. Claire and I turned to get our backpacks.

“You can leave your stuff here. It’s safe. I’ll lock it in the cage.” Jenny almost sounded friendly, but she still wouldn’t smile. As we started to come out of the cage, Jenny stopped Claire and said, “Is your eye okay where you got hit?” Jenny looked closely at Claire’s face.

“I’ll manage,” Claire said.

“Good.” Jenny finished looking over Claire’s face. “Yeah. It looks okay. Let’s go.” That was probably as close as we were going to get to an apology.

Jenny led us outside. It was a nice spring day. Very sunny, but not too hot. A gentle breeze wafted through the trees and high grass, smelling slightly of honeysuckle. Cannon Fields was buzzing with activity. People were walking everywhere with something to do. Above it all, I heard a noise that I hadn’t heard in a long time. It was a sound that made me very happy and a little relieved.

It was the sound of children playing.

Several kids ran back and forth on a green space in front of the main building. They were playing a game of tag, laughing and yelling for joy as they ran around. As they played, several residents watched over them with rifles ready. It was good to see some children. The human race might have a chance after all.
Claire saw them too. She looked at me and smiled, her first good smile in weeks. “They have kids. Cool.”
Jenny brought us to the main building’s porch. It was a welcoming affair with a few rocking chairs. It was one-story brick, with a lot of glass. It looked a lot like those welcome centers on the interstates. Jenny pushed open one of the twin glass doors and stepped aside to let Claire and me inside.

We walked into a wood-tiled lobby with a desk on the right. A small waiting room was on the left, across from the desk. In front of us on the back wall, were a few sets of glass double-doors that led to a large gathering place or dining room. The whole place was neat and tidy, but with some supplies and a few papers scattered around on desks and tables. It was a nice building. Cannon Fields must have used it as a clubhouse or an administration building.

“Wait here.” Jenny pointed to the small waiting room, then disappeared down a small hallway. I heard a knock at a distant office door.

“I bet the leader is a big guy. You know, a real survivalist-type. What do you think, Tiger?” Claire said.

“You’re probably right. He’ll come out with twin ammo belts strapped across his chest or something.”

Claire covered her mouth as she started to giggle. As it turned out, we couldn’t have been more wrong about the leader of Cannon Fields.

A pear-shaped, middle-aged woman came out of the hallway to greet us. She wore big black-framed glasses and had a yellow sweater on over a flowery blouse. When she saw us, a smile broke out on her face. Not what I expected at all.

“Hello and welcome,” she said in a pleasant, almost musical voice. She shook our hands and said, “I’m Denise. I guess I’m in charge.” She turned to Jenny. “Okay, Jen. Thanks for getting our new friends.”

Jenny started to step outside. She turned at the door and said, “Denise…I’ll be right outside if you need me.” She shot a glance in my direction.

Denise was still shaking my hand. “It’s good to see you both. Always glad to welcome other survivors to our little community.” She invited us to sit on a nearby couch. “I know you two must have a few questions. Would you mind if I see you one at a time? Is that okay?”

I shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess.” Denise was just being safe. She didn’t really know us. If she took us both into the office, we could overpower her. “You want to go first?” I asked Claire.

“Sure.” Claire got up and walked down the hallway.

“We’ll be right back. Take a seat on the couch,” said the smiling Denise.

I sat down on the designer couch. I felt a little out of place in the lobby with my blood-and-mud stained clothing and boots. I closed my eyes and put my head into my hands. The last few days were starting to weigh on me. Everything was moving so fast.

“Are you all right?” asked a pleasant female voice. I looked up to see Karen looking down at me.

“I’m fine. Rough couple of days.”

Karen sat down on a chair nearby. “Yeah. I told you they’d let you out.”

She really was very lovely. I found myself feeling a little shy. I always had a shyness problem around good-looking women. “I guess you were right.”

Karen got up. As she left, she handed me a bottle of water. “Here, you look thirsty. If you guys need anything else, let me know. I’m Denise’s assistant.”

I let the bottle slip into my hand. “Thanks.” Karen smiled, then left me alone in the lobby. She had quite a smile. It reminded me a lot of Gia’s smile. Not too big. Very sexy, with just a little hint of teeth.

Claire and Denise returned in about fifteen minutes. Denise was still beaming. “Claire is quite a young lady. You two have had some adventures,” Denise said.

“Your turn, Tiger. Hey, where did you get the water?” Claire pointed to my bottle.

“Karen gave it to me. She said I looked thirsty.” I gave the bottle to Claire. “Here, finish it.”

“That Karen. Don’t know what I’d do without her,” Denise said. “Ready, John?”

“Ready.” I followed Denise to her office. It almost felt like a job interview.

She gestured to a set of chairs in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”

I sat in one of the comfortable chairs and took a look around. For a leader, Denise had a fairly small office. It was neat, but papers and boxes of supplies were crammed in every corner. It looked like Cannon Fields wrote everything down. Seemed there was a lot of paperwork at the end of the world.