Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community (6 page)

Denise sat down heavily in a leather office chair. “First things first,” she said. She rummaged around in her desk and produced the gun they had taken from me. Denise slid it towards me. “Here’s your gun.”
It was a show of trust. Denise watched me intently to see how I would react. “Thanks,” I said. I put the gun in my holster.

“I know it’s weird meeting like this, you know, one at a time. Jenny insists we do it this way. I guess it’s safer. Plus, we see if everybody’s stories match up. We had people come in here that were being dragged around by other survivors against their will. I wanted to make sure you weren’t some kind of rapist or something,” Denise said. “Having met Claire, I know that’s not true. All she could do was talk about you.”

“All good things, I hope.”

Denise laughed. It was a great laugh. Full of life. “Oh yeah. Claire really thinks the world of you. She called you a hero.”

Sweet Claire. “I’m not a hero. Just a survivor, nothing more.”

Denise fiddled with some papers. “So, how did you two meet?”

I flashed back in my mind to the day I met Claire. “I killed two zombies–Yellow-Eyes-in an intersection. She came up behind me. I almost shot her in the face. We’ve been together on the road since then.” It had been a close call. Thank God my finger was off the trigger.

“Claire said you saved her life.”

I fidgeted in the chair. My trip down Memory Lane was a little nerve-wracking. “She was starving. Actually, we saved each other.”

Denise leaned forward. “Really? How?”

“Let’s just say I was running low on reasons to keep going.”

Denise went a little pale. “Okay. Got it. Good thing she came along then. Now, you must have a few questions for me.”

Actually a few came to mind. “Well, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get the job as leader?” I was immediately embarrassed about my question, but Denise laughed again.

“Claire asked the same thing. How did a fiftyish grandmother-type get to be leader? I guess I’m not what you expected, huh?”

“Yeah. I guess you could say that, Denise.”

She handed me a frame with a picture of a balding, smiling man holding a big fish. “That’s my husband, Richard. He died unexpectedly a few years ago on a fishing trip. I was devastated. I couldn’t stand to live in our huge house in Atlanta alone, so I took the insurance money and bought a place here in Cannon Fields. When I got here, I volunteered for the homeowners’ association. It was a pretty mundane job. You know, just keep the neighbors from killing each other. When Mr. Gready stepped down, I was given his job as president. That was four months before the zombies came.”

The job had been thrust upon poor Denise. “Got the job because you were in charge when the end came?”

Denise sighed. “Yeah.” She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. “When the zombie swarms came through, we fought them together. All of a sudden, people began to look at me like I was some kind of leader. I went from settling neighbor disputes to trying to keep everyone alive. One thing I thank God for is the fence around the subdivision.”

“Fence? It goes all the way around?”

“Yes,” Denise said, as she pulled out a little map of Cannon Fields. “It starts with the wall at the front: three feet of solid, cast-in-place concrete painted to look like stucco. According to the plans I found, it’s back-filled to two feet in the ground and has a steel sub-structure. The gate is a wrought-iron affair. It’s not decorative; it’s the real thing. It slides into a sophisticated locking clamp system…nice and sturdy. It was all electric, but it can be opened manually, as well. The rest of Cannon Fields, all one hundred houses, is surrounded by a high iron fence. It kept everything out. Apparently, zombies can’t climb fences. That’s how we survived.”

“Why the fence?” I found it hard to believe someone would pay to put a huge wall and a security fence around a whole neighborhood.

Denise shook her head. “Don’t know. Maybe the builders were paranoid, maybe they had some money left in the budget, or maybe they knew the zombies were coming. I don’t know. I do know it saved our butts, and it continues to help us survive.”

“How many residents do you have?” I asked.

“Ninety-five. That includes you and Claire, if you want to join us. One of the few joys of my job is finding survivors. I think that each person we add to our family here makes us stronger. I hope you and Claire will stay with us. I like to think we offer a place to rest. A place to get off the road and start again.” Denise took my hand. “I hope you can trust us.”

She made it sound so nice. Denise was offering nothing less than civilization. A chance to live.

“I’ll have to talk to Claire. Trust is hard for us. We’ve had so much trouble with other survivors,” I said.

Denise smiled. “Of course. Stay a few days. Get to know us.” She stood up. “All right. It’s time to eat. Hungry? How about a quick look around outside, then we can eat?”

I was famished, for some reason. “Sounds good.”

We walked out of the office and fetched Claire. She was sitting in the waiting room reading a magazine. If it weren’t for her grimy clothes, you would have thought she was waiting for a doctor’s appointment.
Claire looked up from her periodical. It had a picture of a house full of flowers on the cover. “All done?”

“Yeah. Ready to eat?”

Claire laid the magazine aside, and said, “Let’s do it.”

We walked outside into a nice spring afternoon. Claire and I stood on the sidewalk and wondered at all the residents of Cannon Fields headed for the dining room.

“We don’t have many rules here, but one I insist on is that we take our main meal as a group. It allows us to be social. I like to go in last and welcome everybody inside. Sometimes I say a few words, but not often. Most people just want to eat.”

I glanced over at a small garden across the street. It had a big oak tree in the middle, surrounded by rows of stones. “What’s over there?” I asked, gesturing across the street.

Denise started to look a little sad. “Unfortunately, that’s our memorial garden. Some of the families put up stones with the names of lost loved ones.

I couldn’t help myself. I walked across the street. A light breeze made the oak tree sway. I stood at the edge of the green space and looked at all the stones. They all had little names of loved ones written on them in various colors. Some of them had years lived or ages. Some just had smiley faces or crosses. There were about forty or so stones planted on the grass.

Too damn many.

Denise walked up behind me. “These are all the people we’ve lost. There is usually no body to bring back, so many of the families or loved ones put a stone to commemorate their lost soul. Closure, I guess. We’ll put one up for Mitch in a few days.”

Closure. I thought of all the people I’ve lost. I never found any of them, alive or dead. Didn’t even have time to put up a stone. I thought of poor Mitch, pulled out to his death at the hands of the Red-Eyes. He had sacrificed his life to save Claire and me. He had died so I could stand here waiting to eat. A wave of sadness swept over me.

“The rescue…I tried to save Mitch. The undead were just too strong. I really tried. I’m sorry.” I stopped talking. I was beginning to choke up. I thought maybe being on the road had finally broken me.
Denise put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, John. I know you did your best. One of the things about my job is that even when you do your best, people still die. It’s something I learn every day.”

I looked into her eyes. Denise was a nice lady. A sudden feeling of trust, a feeling that had been absent for a while, began to develop. I could see it in Denise’s kind, smiling face. Claire and I might have found our safe place. “You’re a very wise lady. I’ll go fetch Claire, and we’ll meet you inside.”

I walked across the street and found Claire. She was talking to some pre-teen girls near the entrance about something. At least Claire was getting to know the locals better. “Ready to go in?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m hungry.”

We joined the line going into the dining room. It had been converted into a cafeteria. A buffet line was on the right. Several serving stations dispensed food to the citizens. Folding tables with attached benches occupied the rest of the room. Some people were already seated and eating. The whole place was filled with conversation. I caught a glimpse of myself in a glass surface. I looked a little grungy from our escape. Claire looked the same. People were beginning to stare.

I found a few moist towelettes and stepped out of line. Claire and I ripped some open, and spruced up a little. “How do you think we look?” I asked.

“Like we escaped from a maniac and just got out of quarantine,” Claire answered with a giggle. I decided we looked the best we could, and got back in line. People continued to stare at us. Claire and I tried to ignore them.

Cannon Fields had a lot of food, but it was a strange menu. Our trays were filled with rice, vegetables, and heated-up Spam. A banana or an apple was the only dessert. To Claire and I, it looked like a feast.
When we got to the drinks station, a familiar face greeted us. It was Karen. She smiled when she saw us pull up. “How you guys doing? Getting to know the lay of the land?” She put out a selection of drinks.

“Yeah. It’s a lot to take in at once,” I said. I felt like a shy schoolboy. What was it about this woman? Maybe it was her eyes. “Is that coffee?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s instant, but it’s pretty good.” Karen put a mug on my tray and poured a perfect cup of beautiful coffee. It was the first cup of coffee I had seen in a long time.

“Thanks. Been a while since I had coffee,” I said.

“Don’t mention it.” Karen flashed her green eyes at me.

“I’ll just have the juice,” Claire interrupted.

After tearing myself away from the drinks station, Claire and I stood around looking for a place to sit. We felt like the new kids at school. I caught a glimpse of Denise waving. “Over here. You guys can sit here with me.”

We walked over to Denise’s table. As we walked, Claire and I got a few stares, but most people gave us big smiles. A few wanted to shake hands or exchange friendly greetings. We sat down and began to eat. Denise introduced us to some of the residents. I can’t remember the last time I shook so many hands. The table became a swirl of conversation as more and more of the people of Cannon Fields wanted to hear about my time on the road. Claire got a lot of questions, as well.

As we finished eating our meal, Denise leaned in and said, “After we eat, I’ll find a place for you two to rest. I think for the next couple of days, you and Claire should just relax. Get to know us better.”
My head began to swim. Claire took my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. We had food, a roof over our heads, new friends, and some security. I wondered if Cannon Fields could be the safe place we had been looking for all these months.

I hated waking up in strange places.

It’s the feeling you get when you’re in a hotel or a strange bedroom. You open your eyes, and for a few minutes at least, you don’t know where you are or how you got there. There is a fleeting moment of slight panic. Since the undead began walking around, this feeling has gotten a lot stronger.

I opened my eyes after a long and satisfying sleep. I looked around at the small bedroom, with its striped wallpaper and twin single beds. It was dark in the room, but the sun was beginning to rise. It was time to get up.

I rubbed my eyes to chase the sleep and remembered. After last night’s dinner with the population of Cannon Fields, Denise found Claire and me a place to sleep. She put us in with the Fishers, Tony and Marcie. They were a nice couple in their late forties. The Fishers had been traveling the country in their new RV when the end came. After fighting off a few swarms, they were able to nurse their damaged vehicle to the gates of Cannon Fields. The Fishers were welcomed in, and became residents.

Denise had given us a gentle warning about the Fishers. She had told us that they could talk your ears off. We sat for a few hours at a small dining room table, exchanging stories. Tony told us about his RV, while Marcie brought out pictures of the Grand Canyon and Mount Rushmore. Tony could be seen waving to the camera in photos of both that were a little out of focus. Claire and I didn’t mind all the conversation. We both sat and listened. It was nice to hear another human voice.

When we both grew tired, Marcie set us up in one of the bedrooms. Thinking we didn’t want to be separated, we each got one of the two single beds in the room. Each had fresh linens and pillowcases. We were also able to take showers, as Cannon Fields still had functioning water. Marcie had sweatpants and T-shirts for us as sleepwear. She took our old clothes for washing. The Fishers were very nice people, just like the rest of Cannon Fields.

I wish I could figure out their angle.

Maybe I was just being suspicious, but most survivors weren’t usually this nice. They always wanted something. I kept looking for a hidden agenda, or rape gangs, or even slave labor, but it wasn’t here. Just survivors, working together doing the business of survival. Maybe Cannon Fields was different, but Claire and I couldn’t let our guard down just yet.

I looked over at the other bed, where Claire slept. She turned over in her sleep and sighed heavily. I hope she was having pleasant dreams. It would be great to settle down here and try to live. It seemed like such a nice place. We could be happy for a change. Maybe get a second chance at life and start over.
I went to the bathroom and got dressed. I was about to strap on my gun and holster when I stopped. Force of habit, I guess. I decided to leave them in the bedroom as we were among friends. I decided instead to investigate the smell of coffee wafting down the hallway from downstairs.

Tony and Marcie were already at the table when I arrived. “Morning!” Tony said cheerfully.

“Morning,” I answered. “Coffee smells good.”

Marcie poured me a cup. The mug had a little picture of a cat on it holding a Merry Catmas banner. “Just in time. Hope you don’t mind instant.”

I drank a few sips. It was like liquid heaven. Coffee was one of the things I missed. “It’s great.”

Greg laughed. “Been a while, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Tony fiddled with his cup. “With me, it’s cigars. I would wade through about a hundred zombies just for a good cigar.”

Claire came bounding down the stairs and joined us. She looked refreshed and ready for the new day. After an exchange of morning greetings, Marcie poured her some juice. Claire wasn’t a fan of coffee. Marcie also began to dole out pancakes. She piled four light and fluffy perfect pancakes on my plate. She gave a few to the rest of the table, and then we started to eat.

I sat, sipped my coffee, and consumed pancakes. Light conversation and good-natured jokes were shared as we ate. Claire and Marcie laughed as they shared some humorous story. I looked around the table with amazement. A few days ago, Claire and I were fighting for our lives. Now, we were sleeping in warm beds, had clean clothes, and were eating pancakes with instant coffee. It was surreal. One part of me hoped it would never end.

After a great breakfast and cleanup, I went upstairs to get my gun. Claire followed me.

“So, what’s the plan, Tiger?” she asked. It was her favorite question.

I checked the gun for a full magazine and put on the holster. These people might be friendly, but they still might be hiding something. “We’ll do what Denise said to do: Hang out for a few days and get to know these people better. Keep an eye out. I don’t fully trust these people, and I don’t think they fully trust us, either.”

We started down the stairs. “What exactly am I looking for?” Claire asked.

“You know: Rape, murder, forced work gangs, cannibalism…the usual.”

We walked outside into a beautiful spring morning. It had rained the night before, and everything smelled fresh and clean and hopeful. Even the air was better in Cannon Fields. We walked toward the main street and the admin building to meet Denise. Along the way, we saw more residents. Some were walking to places with tools; others were carrying supplies, or fixing buildings. A few people were preparing former lawns as gardens to feed the populace. It reminded me of an ant colony.

As we walked, some of the residents gave us a smile or a nod as we passed. Others just stared. I tried to hide the gun a little as we made our way up the road. Walking among our new potential friends made Claire a little uncomfortable.

“Geez. I feel like we’re on display,” she said, putting her hands in her pockets. “Some of these smiles are a little creepy.”

“Yeah. I think they’re smiling at us hoping we don’t kill them,” I said, trying to conceal the gun further. Claire stifled a giggle.

We made our way to the main road in front of the admin building. Denise was there talking to the African-American gentleman that had greeted us at the gate on the morning of the rescue. They were looking over some supplies in the trunk of a white sedan. Something big was happening.

“Good morning! How did you guys sleep?” Denise asked.

“Like logs. Breakfast was good, too,” I answered.

“Have you two met Ben?” She turned toward a smiling Ben and introduced us.

“Kind of. I think we saw each other the day we came in.” I shook Ben’s hand. “Glad to meet you.”
Ben shook my hand vigorously, then did the same to Claire. “Glad to meet you guys. You look a lot better than the first time I saw you.” Ben’s laugh echoed off the walls and surrounded us. He seemed like a jovial fellow.

As we stood making conversation, a cat strolled out from under the car. Claire jumped several feet in the air, and I started to draw my weapon. It was on instinct. The feline stood there and stared at us with big yellowish-green eyes. It began to clean its paws. Its eyes were clear, and it wasn’t trying to eat us. Cats were unaffected by whatever was causing the zombies. Claire and I were just a little jumpy.

“Hey, Chester,” Denise said. “He won’t bother you. Chester is one of about fifty cats or so that hang around, taking care of all the mice.” It was a handsome cat. Chester was pure white with a little black splotch on his nose. He stared at all the humans, looking bored. Claire peeked out from behind me. “Is he okay?” Claire didn’t trust any animals.

“Oh yeah,” Denise said. “Chester is cool. He’s a friendly cat. Very typical…sleeps for hours, then hunts at night. No mice around our food thanks to Chester and his friends.”

Ben bent down and patted Chester on his large, furry head. “He does tricks, too. Ask for his paw.”

Claire bent down and offered her hand. Chester stared at her for a few seconds, then put his little foot in Claire’s hand. She smiled. “He is cool. A cat that shakes your hand.”

I gave Chester a pat on his head. I much preferred to meet cats on the road. The zombie dogs were a huge threat on the outside. They hunted in packs and could travel for miles in search of prey. They were also very hard to kill. I had given up hope that any pet dogs still existed. “Have you found any dogs?” I asked.

“Sadly, no. It’s just Chester and his friends.” Denise answered, giving the fat cat a pet. He rubbed against Denise’s hand and meowed loudly.

Some kids were playing nearby, which got Chester’s attention. He ran off in a flash to join the game. Ben looked at him wistfully. “That cat loves kids. Very strange kitty.”

I pointed towards the sedan. “What’s going on here?”

“A little trip we’re planning. We’ve been in contact by radio with a survivor about forty or so miles from here. A doctor by the name of Connelly has barricaded herself in an urgent care clinic. We were going to pick her up. I could use a doctor here,” Denise answered.

“Were? You might be canceling the trip?”

Denise walked us away from the car for some privacy. “I’ve been thinking about it. Jenny and Ryan still want to do it, but they don’t have a lot of experience on the outside. This trip would be the farthest away from home I’ve sent people out.” Denise sighed. “I really don’t want to lose anyone else, and really can’t afford any more losses in manpower. Mitch was a huge blow.”

There may have been more to Mitch than I realized. “Losing Mitch was bad huh?”

Denise looked at the ground. “Oh yeah. Mitch was a good shot, and he was very brave. He was also cool and collected. If something wasn’t working, he’d abort the mission and get back. I mean Jenny and Ryan are great, but sometimes they can be a little reckless. Almost got them both killed a few times in the past. Mitch was a good leader.”

Claire and I looked at each other. Mitch had seemed a little clumsy and uncoordinated when we met. We had misjudged him. He was asset to the people of Cannon Fields.

And now he was dead.

Denise continued. “It’s a shame, too. I really wanted to bring a doctor here. You know that little flu bug that came through when all this zombie stuff started?”

Claire and I nodded. We were familiar with that particular killer. After the swarms started to subside, a new threat rose up alongside the zombies. A strain of influenza sprang up and ripped through the survivors like a scythe. With no doctors, it killed thousands as it swept across the country. I would bet that whole communities were wiped out. The undead didn’t have to do a thing.

“Well,” Denise said sadly, “It killed about a dozen of my people, mostly elderly and young children.” She paused to wipe a tear. Denise wasn’t so happy anymore. “I really wished I had a doctor then. May have saved us the horror of burning all those bodies.”

I looked into her eyes and saw the pain. Denise had stood and watched as people she cared for died, and then she had to burn their corpses. I knew the reasons for having to burn bodies. Even if you bury the deceased, the zombies still came. Somehow, the smell of the freshly dead still reached the senses of the zombies even when you put them in the ground. The dogs were usually first, followed by the Yellow-Eyes looking for an easy meal. It wasn’t safe to bury your friends and loved ones nearby. I knew what Denise had witnessed. There were a few funeral pyres in my past. I felt I wanted to help Denise to erase those horrible images from her mind. I was about to do something noble.

I wanted to help find her doctor.

I touched her shoulder. “Denise, I want to help. I want to volunteer to help get your doctor.”

Denise looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Oh, my. That’s wonderful, but you don’t have to do this. I can’t ask you to go. We just got you rescued. You need to rest.”

“It’s the least I could do. You guys helped us out. Besides, if Claire and I want to live here, anything to increase our survival is a good thing. You need a doctor.”

“How about you?” Denise said to Claire.

Without missing a beat, Claire said, “I go where John goes. I want to help.”

Denise smiled and wiped away some tears. “Don’t you two beat all. Been a long time since we’ve found some survivors like you. Okay. The trip is on.” She called Ben over to where we were standing. “Ben, John and Claire just volunteered for the trip.”

“Is that right?” Ben shook my hand again. “That’s great. Lord knows we need all the help we can get.” He looked at Claire. “First things first. This little lady needs something to shoot. And you, Big John…,” he said, pointing in my direction. ”You need something bigger than that pea-shooter they gave you when you busted out of Double-Six. I think our next stop is the armory.”

Claire and I followed Ben to one of the houses nearby. When we got to the front door, Ben took out a key and unlocked the door. “We gutted a few of the houses near the front to store some stuff. Weapons, food and water, and other supplies.” Ben wrestled with the sticky door, and pushed it open. Calling the storage house an armory was appropriate.

The entire first floor had been cleaned out. Someone had done a very good job of outfitting the house as a storage shed. There were racks and boxes in every spare corner of the downstairs area. The upstairs was probably the same. Even the stairs were packed. It was all weapons.

Rifles of all types were on racks screwed to the walls. Handguns were stored in several lockers on the floor. There were so many guns that several plastic boxes on the floor held some overflow. Boxes of ammunition were neatly sorted on even more metal racks. It looked like years’ worth of ammunition. There were also improvised edged weapons that used to be garden implements, all kinds of knives, and a rack of crowbars and baseball bats. Unmarked scary-looking crates containing God-knows-what filled the floor.

I whistled under my breath as I took it all in. “You guys getting ready for a war or something?”

I made Ben laugh. “You can never be too careful. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. The house next door is the same.”

Claire looked over the baseball bats. “Where did all this stuff come from?”

Ben looked over his armory with pride. “Some of it came from residents. We found some of the rifles and guns.” He pointed to a small rack of automatic rifles. “We traded your friends at Double-Six food and fuel for those.”