Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue (9 page)

The stranger put his hand up for a handshake and said, “Hello. My name's Lyle. I recognize you from the van.”

For a moment I was a little confused by his friendliness, but I recovered. I took his hand and gave it a shake. Lyle had the grip of a country boy used to hard work. “Hello, Lyle. My name is John Linder.”

Lyle nodded for a few seconds, not saying anything. “John. Strong name. Had an uncle named John. Worked on the railroads in Florida. Man could rip a phone book in half.”

I started to relax a little, but there was information I needed. “Where you from, Lyle? You with anyone?”

“Texarkana. I was a bus driver for a school in the area. I'm traveling with a few students and two teachers. We were all on a nice field trip to a local farm when all this zombie stuff started. I tried to get back into Texarkana, but the military blocked the roads in and out.” Lyle stared into space for a few seconds, then continued his story. “Then the dead swarmed out of the city and overwhelmed us. I took the bus - and the students - off the road and escaped. We barely made it.”

“You've been traveling together since then?” I asked.

“Yeah. Almost five years, scratching and surviving out there. We traveled all the way from Arkansas, finding supplies where we could. Sometimes we would hook up with other survivors for a while and settle down, but for one reason or another, bad stuff would happen and we'd have to move on.” Lyle paused, and looked at his hands, cracked and beat up from his time on the road and the cold winter wind. “I've lost a few people,” he said, softly.

Unfortunately, it was a typical story from the road. It was hard to keep everyone alive. “How many do you have left?” I asked.

“Ten. Eight students and two teachers. We started with twenty.”

“What did you see out there?” I asked.

Lyle shifted a bit and looked away from me, into space. “We got into Mississippi, all the way down to Biloxi and the coast. Didn't see much of anything. Just dead places, and people trying to make a go of it. Jackson was gone, along with all the other cities. Not too many safe places to stay. There's a lot of dead in Ole Miss.”

“How did Biloxi look?” I asked. In my pre-zombie days, I was an avid amateur gambler.

Lyle shrugged. “A few people are trying to make it in the old casinos, but the dead are everywhere down on the coast. Guess the zombie swarms ran out of land, and they piled up down there. Me and my group left when the living began fighting among themselves. We moved on to Florida, but it wasn't any better.” He sat up in bed. “There are whole areas of Florida and south Georgia where the only thing walking around is the zombies. No people, no birds, no animals, no nothing. I guess the Red-Eyes ate everything.”

“Sounds like a nightmare. I've been to Georgia. Most of the places I saw were dead zones,” I said. Memories of me and Claire running among the ruins of the Peach State came flooding back. For some reason, Georgia took it on the chin during the zombie apocalypse.

“You got that right. I met exactly one living person in our time in Florida. He was an old man, horribly sunburned, living on the beach near the remains of Panama City. He dug himself a shelter in the sand: a kind of bunker, I guess. He told me he heard a rumor there was some life in Chattanooga. He said the army was using it as quarantine zone, and that it was safe.”

“You believed him?”

“Not really.” Lyle laid his head down back on the pillow. “But the people in my group did. They wanted to try and get there to see if it was true. So one morning, I filled up the bus with what diesel I had and we headed north through Georgia.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

By Lyle's dark expression, I knew the trip hadn't gone well. “Things went wrong,” I said softly.

He sat up again, and wiped his eyes. “I tried, John, I really tried. Some of the towns, the dead just kept coming. All I had was a crowbar, a shotgun that didn't always work, and a banged-up dirt bike.” He sat upright, causing me to pull back from the sudden movement. “That girl that was with you. Is she okay?”

“She's fine. Her name is Claire,” I said

Lyle lay down again, and closed his eyes. “Claire. What a pretty name.”

We had gotten a bit off track. “So, you guys made it to Chattanooga?” I said, steering the conversation back on course.

“Yeah, but only by the grace of the Lord. Steered around Atlanta, and came in through Lookout Mountain. Half my people were gone, the bus was low on fuel, and we had no supplies. We found no safe zone in Chattanooga. It was so...burned up. Even the billboards were all melted,” Lyle whispered. “A deep, black scar ran down the center of the city. The highways were all busted up. I drove for blocks in a graveyard, finding nothing. After a few hours, we moved on.” Lyle paused to collect himself.

I tried to push my own nightmare visions of the former great city of Chattanooga out of my head. It had been firebombed by authorities to try and contain the outbreak. I had seen the sad results during a scrounging trip to Tennessee. “Where did you go next?” I asked, as gently as I could.

“We had nowhere else to go. I found some diesel outside the city, and pointed the bus toward Alabama. It didn't matter. It was just some place we hadn't tried yet. We were done. I think we all knew we were just driving...nowhere. As we neared the outskirts of what used to be Huntsville, the bus made a noise like it was about to have a baby. I nursed it down the road as long as possible, but eventually it died on me. There we were, in the middle of nowhere with a dead city at our back. I got everybody together, grabbed all the supplies we had left, and we walked up the road till we found a little civilization.”

“South of Huntsville?”

Lyle started to look a little tired. His injuries may be tiring him out. “Yeah. Couple of commercial buildings in a small town. Didn't catch the name, but I know where it is. I stashed my group in a bank building, took the motorcycle, and began riding south to try and find some help.”

“That's when you ran into us.”

“I was following the other guys first. I stumbled upon their houses while riding around. I followed them as close as I could, trying not to make too much noise. I waited for a chance to approach them safely. Didn't want any gun play. Some people these days are kind of sensitive, you know?” Lyle closed his eyes for a second. I sensed it was time to wrap this up.

“You caught our little trade meeting, huh?” I asked.

Lyle's eyes popped open. He blinked a few times, like the light was too bright, a possible sign of a concussion. “I drove into the supermarket and parked. I waited to see what would happen. I thought for a second those guys were setting up an ambush, but then you and that little lady showed up to trade.”

“Then the Red-Eyes came and spoiled the party,” I said.

“Yeah. I froze for a second, but then I thought maybe I could help. I didn't think. I just cranked my bike and came to the rescue.” Lyle paused. “I was helping before I even realized I was helping. All of a sudden, I was in the shit.”

“That bike made quite a racket. How did you know that little trick scaring the zombies with the noise would work?”

Lyle smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “I have to confess. I didn't know if it would work or not. When the shotgun decided not to work, I had to improvise. Good thing the deadheads didn't like the noise, or we'd all be zombie food by now.” Lyle closed his eyes again.

“Okay. You need to rest. We're going to keep you in isolation for a while, but I don't think you're going to change into anything horrible.”

Lyle breathed a little sigh of relief. “Thank God for that.” He reached up, and grasped my arm. “Am I safe here? No ones going to come in the night and try to eat me, are they?”

Now it was my turn to laugh, but it was not an unusual question these days. “You're safe here. No one is going to try to eat you. You can rest a while, then we'll see about a meal later. Okay?”

“Thank you, John. You and your people are a true godsend.”

I backed out of the room. “We'll talk more tomorrow, after the Doctor gives you a quick looking-over.”

“Okay.” Lyle laid his head on the pillow. “John?”

I paused at the door. “You need something?”

Lyle sighed again, this time deeper. “I need help. I need help with my people. I can't leave them out there alone in this screwed-up world. They can't defend themselves against the dead, and I can't live with that.”

I stood for a second, a shaken by what he said. “We'll talk later.”

L
yle quickly became the main attraction in Cannon Fields.

After a quick, light breakfast and an examination by Doctor Connelly, he was ready for a walking tour. Denise, Michael, the association, me, and a few other assorted residents escorted him around the property. I put Lisa in the group as well to help keep an eye on him.

We showed him where we ate, where we grew and processed our food, and the motor pool areas. We took a walk back to the houses we had converted into schools to teach our children. Denise showed him the admin building and her office. We pointed to, but did not open, the armories. No sense showing him all our secrets just yet. The front gate was off the tour as well. If he had any nasty friends, I didn't want him telling them about our fences.

As a show of trust, I took him and the entourage back to my house for a little mid-tour break. We shared some of my dwindling supply of coffee and cornbread at the kitchen table. Lyle sipped the coffee slowly, savoring each mouthful. He confessed that his last cup of coffee had been five years ago or so.

Lyle met my wife, and he complimented her on her green eyes. He also said that she had the bravest husband in all of Alabama. Karen was instantly charmed, and despite still being sick, stuck around to hear a few of Lyle's road stories. He had a lot of road stories. Most of them kind of unhappy.

Claire and her family came over. Lyle was happy to finally meet the “little lady from the van” in person. He shook Ryan's hand, and said hello to Alex. Claire's little boy was at first frightened by the stranger, and hid behind his mother peeking out to keep an eye on him. Soon, Lyle's easy smile won Alex over and they became fast friends.

Throughout the tour, Lyle was gracious and smiled at everyone. He shook hands, and answered all the questions thrown at him by the residents. He also asked many questions of his own, and praised us on our ability to survive. Everywhere we went, curious residents came out to meet the new guy. It had been a while since they'd seen a new face.

We all began to relax. Everyone began to accept him as a potential member to our community.  Lyle seemed like an okay guy who didn't want to hurt anyone. He laughed easily and had many stories to tell. Yet I sensed he was anxious about something. His group, stuck out there somewhere on the road, was on his mind. I could almost see his mind reeling, trying to come up with a solution to help save his people.

He may be desperate. That could still make him dangerous.

The last stop on the tour was the infirmary. Lyle said he wanted to see it from outside quarantine. As we walked inside to compete the tour, most of the entourage left to go about their daily business. “Good to see you again, Doctor,” Lyle said. ”I guess I have you to thank for keeping my head together after my little accident.”

“Glad you're up and around.” Doctor Connelly gave Lyle another quick exam.

“How did you come to be at Cannon Fields, Doctor?” Lyle asked, as the doctor looked into his eyes.

Doctor Connelly nodded towards me. “John brought me back. He and a few residents sprung me from a clinic up the road. We had to fight our way out.”

Lyle shook his head. “Doesn't that beat all?” He turned to me, and said, “You must be the bravest people I've met. A lot of survivors would have let her die out there.”

Denise took my arm. “John earned his place in Cannon Fields that day. He almost gave his life to keep us safe. That's pretty common around here.”

Lyle sat down on a nearby chair. “I don't doubt that. You have a great set-up here. You guys are really thinking long-term survival.”

“It's not without hard work. John and his security people, our farmers and food people who feed us, the laborers who keep things moving, the teachers who educate our children..we all work long hours to keep Cannon Fields alive,” Denise said. “I know I've had a few sleepless nights myself.”

Lyle got that faraway look in his eye again. “It's paradise in here compared to the outside. People don't care about each other anymore. They kill for a few vegetables or a couple of cans of tuna. They rape and murder, and human life has no meaning. Some of them have become animals to survive.”

We all looked at Lyle with great sorrow. All of us knew the road was a hard place. “We can only hope that it stays outside, and we do our best to keep everyone safe,” Denise said quietly. “If you want to Lyle you can join us. I think we can trust you now. You can stick around for a few days. Get to know us.”

Lyle looked up at Denise. She didn't invite people to join us on a lark. If she gave you the green light to live with us, it was for real. “That's real nice. Unbelievably nice. But, I have a problem.”

“A problem?” Denise asked.

“It's my people. They're still out there, hiding. I need to find a way to get them to safety as well.”

One of the patients nearby had a bad coughing fit. It was Cora, the little girl. The coughs ripped through her body and caused her to convulse on the bed. She was getting worse. Doctor Connelly ran to her bedside.

“What's wrong with her?” Lyle asked.

“She picked up the bug that's going around,” Denise said. “Our scrounging parties bring it in from the outside. Most epidemics are not too bad, but sometimes it can be a serious problem.” She pointed to several more sick people in the infirmary, which now included Ben and a few new faces. “All of these people are sick.”

Lyle looked concerned as Cora continued to cough. “Is it the flu?”

“It starts out like the  flu. It weakens the body, and a bacterial infection settles in the lungs and a nasty cough gets going.” Doctor Connelly looked at little Cora on the bed, who had finally stopped coughing. “Usually, it runs its course and goes away. In some cases it lingers, and we do what we can.”