Sometimes We Ran (Book 1) Read online

  The intersection itself was a scene of horror. Several cars were smashed together where the two roads intersected. Some of the cars were burned and gutted. A small sedan was flipped on its roof in the strip mall driveway to my right. There were even a couple of wrecked motorcycles. Even in this small town, panic gripped everybody. As I took in the destruction, I heard a familiar sound.

  A low moan came from the road ahead of me. I couldn’t see them yet, but I bet there was a baddie or two waiting for me in the intersection. I ducked behind a junked pick up on the left shoulder of the road near the edge of the salvage yard. It was time for my handy-dandy zombie spotting binoculars. I put them up to my eyes and peered through the polarized lenses. I turned the knurled knob, and two zombies appeared in focus before my eyes.

  One was a big fat one. Honestly, he looked like the kind of guy you needed a forklift to move. He was easily over 500 pounds. Chubbsey-Wubbsey looked relatively intact and hungry. He had on a mechanic’s shirt, so I assumed he was from the junkyard/service station. The other one was a little more dramatic. It looked like someone took the front side of his body and dragged it over a cheese grater. I could see his skull and ribs, but from the back he looked normal. He walked with a kind of bouncing gait, shaking his arms around. His head bobbed back and forth a little, too. He was wearing the last outfit he would ever wear: no shirt, jean shorts, and flip flops. He looked like he was headed to the beach. He was also making an ungodly noise somewhere between a scream and a laugh. I named him Jean Shorts.

  As I scoped out the two baddies in the intersection, the binoculars suddenly went dark.

  I dropped the glasses from my eyes just in time to see an ugly woman zombie standing in front of me, waiting to strike. I didn’t have time to react. I fell backwards on the road, as she stood over me, preparing to battle me to the death. She leaned down to start her meal. As she lunged to take a bite and add me to her undead entourage, I worked my tomahawk out of its holster and drove it into her skull. She screeched and tried to get away.

  Stupid! How could I be so stupid? I let my guard down. However, I didn’t panic. Just don’t let them bite you, and drive something into their soft, melon-like heads. These close encounters can be scary, but if you don’t panic, you’ll be okay. Still, the hand-to-hand combat left me a little shocked. I got to my feet, with my heart beating in my ears,and my breathing going full bore. I looked down at my new friend. She was still alive and kicking even with a hole in her head. I didn’t drive the tomahawk all the way home.

  She used to be an old woman. I guessed her age at about sixty to sixty-five years old. She had long, greasy hair down to the middle of her back. Her face was intact, but sunken and skeletal. There was a rope of pearls around her neck. Her eyes were bright red. I hated the red-eye ones. They seemed to be superhuman. Sometimes they wouldn’t stay down.

  This particular Red-Eye wasn’t getting up any time soon. My tomahawk had done a pretty good job, but it wasn’t complete. I pulled my handgun and finished her off; Now she was dead. I turned and started to collect my stuff. I located my binoculars and tomahawk and put them back on my person. That’s when I heard more growling. I looked up to see another zombie standing on the cab of the wrecked pick-up, crouched and ready to pounce. This one had been a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy. Very intact. He was wearing a concert T-shirt, jeans, and some fancy sneakers. The only problem I noted was a broken ankle. He looked like a formidable feeder. These Red-Eyes are the alphas of the zombie universe. I have seen these guys chase prey for miles. Sometimes they even worked together to get their meal. This young one had been the old woman’s companion.

  He launched off the pick-up in full zombie-attack mode.

  With his broken ankle, he couldn’t get a good leap. It was clumsy and avoidable. I moved aside, and he slammed into the ground face first. He got up quick, but I put him down with my gun. By this time, all the commotion with the two Red-Eyes had gotten the attention of Chubbsey-Wubbsey and Jean Shorts. They turned my way, and started coming slowly down the street. I wasn’t going to fool around with these guys. I moved my rifle into the ready position, and took a defensive stance in the middle of the street. The first contestant would be Fat Boy. One shot in the middle of his large, round face and he went down heavily in the middle of the road. Next, it was time to send Jean Shorts to hell. I paused for a minute. He was going to be tougher to hit, as he walked with a slight bounce in his step. He made a horrible sound, almost sounded like a maniacal laugh. It took two shots, but Jean Shorts went down. I took a quick scan around the area. All was quiet. Still I didn’t let my guard down. That was a good way to get overrun. Doing my best Navy SEAL imitation, I approached the intersection. Still quiet. Then I heard something come up behind me. Knowing my luck, it was probably a dog or another Red-Eye.

  Please don’t let it be a dog.

  To tell you the truth, I almost shot first, without looking. However, I paused with my finger off the trigger as I turned around to face my attacker.

  “Don’t shoot! Please don’t shoot!”

  It was human speech. I didn’t lower my weapon. It was best not to let my guard down. Maybe these things have learned to talk.

  It was a girl. She was about twenty to twenty-five years old. She was a little thing, about five- foot-nothing and about a hundred ten pounds or so. Short auburn hair with pink highlights framed her face. She was wearing a slightly-too-big denim jacket, a white blouse, and designer jeans. She was also a little dirty, and she smelled pretty bad. However, her eyes were clear. She was a survivor. At least, I hoped she was a survivor.

  “Please don’t shoot me,” she said, stepping closer. She was crying now. She started to raise her hands. “Look, I’m okay, not a zombie. My name is Claire.”

  Curiosity got the better of me, and I went in for a closer look.

  Chapter 4

  Then There Was Two

  We stood there and looked at each other for what seemed like a long time. She looked like a survivor, but you never know. She could be a plant. A group of her buddies could be hiding and waiting for me to drop my weapon, to kill me and take my stuff. She looked at me with her watery, blue eyes as I circled around her with my rifle aimed at her head. I kept one eye on her and one eye on the surroundings. Her bad guy buddies could be waiting anywhere.

  She wiped her eyes. “C’mon, now. Let’s put the gun down,” she said, soothingly. “Look. I’m okay. Look.” She took a step closer.

  Time for a little action. “Stand still! Put your goddamn hands up,” I barked at her as I raised my weapon. The sound of my own voice scared me a little bit. I hadn’t talked to anyone in a long time, so my voice sounded a little weird.

  Scared the hell out of her too. She froze in place and put her hands up.

  Before I could trust her, I had to see if she was bitten. ”Let me see your arms.” Roll-up your sleeves …now!” She obeyed and rolled up her sleeves. Her arms were thin and covered in dirt, but I didn’t see any thing that looked like a bite. I took a step closer, with my weapon still raised.

  “Raise up your shirt! Show me your belly,” I said in my most authoritative voice. I had to stay in charge. She could be armed.

  “Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you some kind of pervert?” she complained.

  I was losing control. “Shut the fuck up and show me your belly or I’ll drop you.” Her resolve quickly crumbled, and she pulled her jacket and blouse up almost over her head. Again, a little dirty and pale, but no bites. She was extremely thin, and I could clearly see her ribs sticking out. She had on a little blue bra. Gia liked different colored underwear, too. A semi-erotic image of my dead wife in her favorite lingerie flashed in my mind. I shook my head slightly to chase her image out of my mind, and returned to the business at hand.

  “Turn around! Show me your back! Do it now,” I yelled. She obeyed. Her back had no bites.

  “Are you through looking at my body? Are you satisfied I am not on of those things yet? Do you want to
see my ass or anything? I am told my ass is pretty good.” She sounded pissed. I’m satisfied she’s not a zombie, but she could still be a plant.

  “Sorry. Put your shirt down. Are you alone?”

  “Yes. All alone and pretty goddamn scared.”

  “No buddies ready to jump me and take my stuff?”

  “No buddies. I don’t want your stuff either. You might shoot my ass.” Great. A comedian. Just what I need.

  I thought of something else. “Do you have any weapons?”

  “Just a sharpened piece of rebar for ramming a few skulls. It’s in my backpack, on the ground near your feet.”

  The backpack was indeed near my feet. I almost stepped on it. Keeping one eye on her, I bent down to take a look. I found the rebar with its very menacing point. The rest of the contents were a random assortment of everyday objects. A dead cellphone with a cracked screen, a computer tablet, a compact and other assorted makeup, about 10 or 11 ballpoint pens, and a couple of old magazines. There were also about a dozen tampons and some body spray. My fellow survivor must have been a college student. A pair of textbooks, math and American history, completed her survival gear. No food or water. She had to be hungry, dehydrated, and probably a little desperate.

  I looked at her again. I was slowly calming down. She looked weak, wasted, and half-dead, almost like the things that walked around us. She started to cry again. Crying was bad, as it would dehydrate her further.

  “Please. I’m okay. I need help. I don’t know what I can do to convince you.”

  She was just a scared young girl. She looked like she had been through a lot of pain and suffering. She looked like she had lost everything, and was at the end of the line. I lowered my weapon. I didn’t think she was a threat anymore. “Put your arms down,” I said, trying not to sound scared. “You’re okay. If you had any buddies, they would have jumped me by now I guess.” I kept my guard up. I secretly hoped I was not making a mistake.

  She lowered her arms. She looked relieved, and even smiled a little. It was a pretty cute smile. She must have been real popular with the boys before the world went bad. I realized I had forgotten her name. Clara? … Clarice?

  “My name is Claire. Hello,” she said extending her hand. “What’s your name, soldier?”

  Soldier? Did I look like a Guardsman? Maybe I did. I had on tan cargo pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and my black boots. The pants are tucked into the boots. It cuts down on the brains staining your socks. I was also wearing a camo jacket with a matching backpack. Around my waist was my soft-side ammo case. On my head, I wore an old ball cap with some forgotten baseball team’s logo and sunglasses. The sunglasses were a gift from Gia. I grabbed them as I abandoned my car at the shelter. I didn’t need them, but there was some sentimental value. It’s the last gift my beautiful wife gave me. I then realized I might have forgotten my own name.

  I remembered in a flash. “John …My name is John, and I’m not a soldier.” I took off my glove and grasped her hand to shake it. A handshake; yet another remnant of a dead world. Her hand was the first living flesh I had touched in a long time.

  “Well, John, glad to meet you. That little thing we had back there was a little intense, wasn’t it?” she said, in a slightly sing-song voice. I had to admit, it was great to hear another human voice again. “You know, you still look a little scary. Can I at least see your eyes, handsome?”

  Handsome? No one had ever called me handsome, not even Gia. Keeping a careful eye on my new friend, I stowed my rifle and removed my expensive eyewear. She stepped a little closer.

  “Well, hey, handsome. How you doing?” she said, in that sing-song voice again. “You’re a looker, for an older guy.”

  She giggled a little bit. She was just trying to put me at ease. I did not entertain any thought that I was anything close to handsome, or a “looker.” Rugged, maybe, but not handsome. Gia had always called me “cute,” and adorable, but not handsome. No, Claire’s idea of handsome was thin, tall guys with swimmers’ builds and designer shirts and pants. Maybe they drove cool, foreign compact cars and skipped class to go to coffee shops and surf the free Wi-Fi. Maybe so, but I still felt a blush coming up. I instinctively reached up to feel my two days of beard growth. I should have tried to shave today. My hair probably won’t set any hearts aflutter either. ”How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Her face darkened. “I’m starving,” she said in a low tone. “Pretty thirsty too. I think I am about ready to die. In fact, I have been passing out a lot lately.” Her eyes welled up with tears again.

  She did look a little pale and wasted. My heart hurt for her. Even though I didn’t entirely trust her, I had to help. “Okay. Let’s get off this road and eat.”

  Her smile returned, but it was a little weak. “Okay, but you may have to help me. I feel a little light headed.”

  I took her hand and we walked over to the ruined strip mall to find a little shelter. I thought I heard her mutter, “Thank you, God.” She must have been praying someone would show up.

  Chapter 5

  My New Companion …A Real Live Human

  I sincerely hoped I hadn’t walked into a trap.

  Claire and I headed for some shelter at what used to be a shopping mall. She gripped my hand tightly. She was a lot weaker than she let on. I estimated she was at the edge of malnutrition. A couple of times I felt like I was dragging her, she was so weak. I had to stop a couple of times when she looked like she was going to pass out. I gave her some water from my supply, and she drank it down heartily till the whole bottle was gone. The water helped a little. At least some color returned to her face.

  The mall didn’t hold out much hope. It looked like a bomb had gone off and destroyed everything in sight. Most of the glass windows were broken, and the contents of the stores were piled in the parking lot. “I already checked it out,” Claire said. “There’s not much left.”

  We continued to walk along, looking for a safe place. Frankly, I thought the mall was too exposed. Anything on two or four legs could walk on in and feed to their heart’s content. However, one look at Claire told me we needed to find a place soon. The poor girl was slowly fading from hunger. She needed to eat, like, right now. I stopped at what used to be a jewelry store. The glass was cracked and broken in spots, but large areas were still intact. “This might work,” I said to Claire. She nodded in agreement. “Stay in the doorway where I can see you. I’ll check it out.” She nodded again, and leaned on a nearby counter.

  I got my rifle ready, and slowly walked inside. The place was a total wreck. Most of the cases were smashed and jewelry and glass littered the floor. The store had been looted repeatedly during the outbreak. The coast looked clear, so I walked further inside. I walked slowly, trying not to make any noise that would attract any bad guys. The showroom was clear, but I still had to check out the back. I shot a quick glance towards Claire, and she flashed me an okay sign. She was hunched over and fading fast. I knew I had to speed up the pace a little.

  At the back of the store, was a small bathroom and office/storage area. I pressed my ear against the closed office door to listen for any tell-tale zombie noises. Not hearing any, I turned the knob and pushed into the office, expecting to see the worst.

  I found nothing but a dark, empty room. There was a faint smell of disinfectant in the air, with a tinge of death. Jewelry littered the floor, looking a little like a starry night. As my eyes adjusted to the darkened environment, I saw an office chair and a small desk with stacks of money piled in the middle. Looks like someone was trying to bug out when the end came. With the office cleared, that just left the bathroom. I approached slowly. The door was open slightly, and a really bad smell was coming from the dark room. This did not look good. I paused for a minute to listen for any danger. It was so quiet I could hear my heart beating in my chest.

  The smell turned out to be the owner. He shot himself. The gun, a small pistol, was lying at his feet. He had put the gu
n in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Shot himself while sitting on a toilet. What a way to go out. A closer inspection revealed why he offed himself. A zombie had ripped a good portion of his neck out. He must have known he was doomed and shot himself. I backed out of the bathroom, closing the door on my way out. The bathroom became his tomb.

  I walked back into the showroom to retrieve Claire. She had disappeared.

  “Claire, where are you?” I whispered loudly. I wondered if she had left. Maybe she didn’t trust me after all. I was looking all around the showroom, when I heard some moaning. I spun around, looking for the source of the sound. It sounded like a zombie looking for a quick meal. In the process of looking for my adversary, I tripped over Claire lying on the floor.

  The moaning was not coming from something dead. It was Claire. She must have passed out and fallen into the showroom. Poor girl. She must have held on for as long as she could.

  I carefully secured my rifle, and picked up Claire. I couldn’t believe how light she was. As I scooped her up, she babbled incoherently. I think she called me Dad a few times.

  I cleared a spot and laid her down. I found something to raise her feet. It was the only cure I knew for someone passing out. I checked her pulse at her neck; steady, but a little slow. Her skin was very white, almost the color of paper. Her full lips had taken on a weird purplish bruise color.

  She looked like she was about to die. I unzipped my backpack, and prepared to force some food down her throat.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she came around. I helped her up slowly, as she still looked a little woozy.