Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (12 page)

11

Three sets of eyes viewed the Gardner Elementary school from the third story of a recently abandoned condo unit. There was a body on the floor behind the three people, but the dark hole in its forehead suggested it wouldn’t be getting up again.

“Hate t’ say it, but I’m wishin’ Billy was here.”

“Yeah, Dallas, me too,” Rick agreed.

“Who?” asked Juanita.

“Billy, the crazy idjit that took off. He could walk through them critters without so much as a scratch.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s true. There was something about him that the dead didn’t like. At least they didn’t attack him like they do everyone else.”

“But that’s unbelievable! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell you what Juanita? That the psycho killer that we befriended and is now missing can walk through the undead with impunity?” Rick smiled, “Actually, can you imagine the look on Martingale’s face?”

Dallas and Rick chuckled, but Juanita was still flabbergasted.

“But…”

“We can talk about it later, OK? We’ve got work to do. There’s fifty-six dead folks beating on that school, and that’s only what I can see. We’ll need a diversion to draw the creatures away, then we load the kids on that school bus,” Rick pointed at a single yellow bus in front of the school, “then we drive back to the boat, and it’s back to the Rock.”

“I got a couple questions,” Dallas informed him. “What diversion, and who does it? Then there’s the bus, what if it don’t start?”

“We’ll figure out the bus after we figure the diversion. Let’s get back to the others and see what we can come up with.”

The three of them moved to the lower level of the condo, and met up with five others who had been watching the entry points. Pablo Martinez, Chris Rawding, and three others known only by their first names to Rick came together in the living room to discuss plans.

Ben, Tom, and Lucy would go set off an alarm at the convenience store a quarter mile down the street, while Rick, Dallas, and Juanita went to get the occupants of the school onto the bus. Martinez would cover the trio at the school with his SR25 sniper rifle, and Chris would cover Martinez while he fired out the second floor window of the condo. Once the alarm was tripped, Ben, Tom, and Lucy would be on their own getting back to the boat, as all others would be occupied with the safety of the kids. They only had two radios, and it was deemed more necessary for the sniper group and rescue group to be in contact than the diversion group.

After the diversion group departed, Rick put a call in to the school to get the ball rolling.

“Gardner Elementary, this is Rick, do you copy? Gardner?”

“Yes! Yes we’re here! When can you come for us?”

“Ma’am, get everyone ready, we’ll be coming within the hour. I will let you know over the radio when I’m almost at the door. Keep the kids quiet, and move quickly. We’re going to get on the school bus in front of the school, and take it to the boatyard, we have transport waiting.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much, we’ll be ready!”

Sometime later, a car alarm started going off down the street, and one by one, the dead surrounding the school shuffled off in that direction. There were a few stragglers, but most went to investigate the noise.

“Ready Hoss?” Dallas asked Rick.

“Let’s go!”

The three of them quickly and quietly left the condo unit, Chris sealing the door behind them. They commando-ran to the school bus, Rick entering with his AR-15 at the ready. There was blood everywhere, and a truly dead policeman in the center aisle. He checked in and under every seat all the way to the back of the bus.

“Clear!”

Juanita came aboard the bus, but Dallas walked past the door and up to a staggering form, swinging for the fences with a piece of rebar he carried, striking it squarely in the head. It collapsed. “Stove yer roof in, dint I?” he asked it, then he spit on the prone form.

“Anytime Hoss, I’m getting’ a mite nervous out here,” he added to Rick.

“Dallas, we’ve got issues, get in here quick!”

Dallas mounted the stairs of the bus, and saw Juanita looking for keys, and Rick struggling with the body of the policeman.

“I don’t want the kids to see this,” Rick told him.

He grabbed the legs and helped Rick drag the dead cop out of the bus.

“Shit-sickles! This old boy shoulda laid off’n the doughnuts!”

“Cop staple!” Rick grinned, but only briefly. His eyes went wide, Dallas noticed, and both men dropped their weight, Rick realizing he had left the shotgun on the bus. Dallas spun and saw the form of an ex-fireman bearing down on him, snarling.

He went for his rebar, but suddenly the left side of the fireman’s head vaporized into pink mist and it collapsed. Another creature, about forty feet away, just keeled over too. The street was clear.

Confused, Dallas started to ask what was going on when Rick showed up with the shotgun. “It’s Martinez, the rifle is suppressed!”

“Suppressed?”

“Yeah, like a silencer in the movies, c’mon!”

Rick and Dallas ran up the short stairs to the door of the school and Rick keyed the mike on the radio: “Gardner, we’re here, open up!” The heavy front doors opened immediately, and a pretty woman stood there, looking scared. Rick was confused, as he seemed to know her, but couldn’t place the face.

“Ma’am, let’s go, we have transport, but not a lot of time.”

“Ok, c’mon kids time to go, just like we talked about!”

The woman and kids filed out the door in an orderly line, just as the school bus roared to life. They followed Rick, and Dallas took up the rear. With the bus running, they were beginning to draw a crowd from all directions. The car alarm stopped as well, leaving the bus the only real noise in the area, aside from the moans and shrill cries of the dead.

The woman and children stopped in their tracks when they saw that the school bus was their mode of transportation.

“The bus!” the woman shouted, “It has one of those people on it!”

“We cleared it, now come on!”

Juanita called out the door, to them: “It’s safe, c’mon!” She punctuated her exclamation by gunning the engine and signaling to them with her hand. Trepidations lost, they scrambled on board after Rick, and Juanita closed the door when Dallas joined them. Juanita put the bus in reverse, and the back-up alarm started going off. There were several thuds as the bus struck random staggering dead in the street.

“Back to the condo!” Rick yelled.

She switched gears, and had started speeding away when she looked in the rearview mirror and spied two running forms. The brakes squealed as she stopped hard. A few kids started crying. “Behind! Ben and Lucy!” Rick checked the rear, and sure enough, two of the other three rescuers were coming down the road as fast as they could. Ben was limping, and Lucy was doing her best to help him. Rick opened the rear door of the bus and took a firing stance, but went on his ass when Juanita threw the bus into reverse and jammed her foot on the accelerator.

There was a street-load of undead following Ben and Lucy. Every few seconds, the back of the head of one in the front would pop, and it would collapse, the others stepping over or tripping on it.

The bus was a quarter of the way down the street and still backing up when a big 4x4 monster-truck came tooling around a corner, behind both the dead and Ben and Lucy. Juanita stopped the bus, but the truck sped up, crushing all dead in its path. A man leaned out the passenger side window and fired an automatic weapon at the bus. Holes stitched across the yellow metal, and a window blew out. Rick got on his stomach and started firing back. The truck slowed, but kept coming. “Get the kids down!” Rick screamed.

Ben looked behind himself, and had just enough time to throw Lucy out of the way before the truck hit him rendering him into something resembling a rag doll covered in hamburger. Rick had a vision of gold teeth in the wide smile of the passenger-side gunner before the gunner’s face exploded. Half a second later, a bullet hole blossomed on the driver’s side windshield, and the truck turned violently to the left, went up on two of its massive tires, and flipped on its side. The screams of the remaining passengers were lost in a cacophony of rending metal. Men flew from the back of the truck like leaves from a tree.

Lucy must have injured herself when Ben tossed her, because she wasn’t making good time, and was hobbling and holding her knee, using a baseball bat as a crutch. The dead were closing fast. Rick started firing at the dead, and at the same time some of the men from the truck started getting up, most with injuries. One of them pointed his rifle at the bus, but grabbed at his chest and fell on his back. Another started getting up only to have his head pop. Martinez was excellent at his job.

Rick leapt from the back of the bus, Dallas close behind, and both started running toward Lucy. It took mere moments to realize that the dead would reach her before they would. Rick heard gunfire from his left, and felt a tug in his calf. Suddenly he couldn’t run correctly, and he had a nasty starboard list. He turned to look at who was firing when he heard a loud BOOM from close behind him. Dallas had ended the gunman with a shotgun blast.

Lucy looked over her shoulder, seeing for the first time how close the approaching horde of undead truly was. She let out a quick scream, which seemed to fuel the single-minded cravings of the creatures behind her. Some of the things dropped as Martinez kept up his onslaught, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Lucy looked at Rick and Dallas and screamed, “Run!”

They got within a hundred feet from Lucy when the first of the dead wave reached her. Rick continued to hobble toward her, but Dallas grabbed him. “No! We ain’t gonna make it in time!”

Rick struggled to get free, but Dallas was holding him firmly by the shirt. “No! Hoss, we gotta go!”

Clammy hands closed on Lucy’s shoulder, and she spun, swinging the bat. She connected with the arm of a former sales clerk, WENDY on the name tag. The forearm snapped, but Wendy didn’t mind. Lucy fought like a cornered wolverine, but there were too many. The bat thumped home again, and again, but got entangled in the mass of dead around her. A skinny man in stained hospital scrubs grabbed her arm and bit deeply into her hand. She yanked her arm away and struggled with another zombie before she fell. The dead nurse fell on Lucy, and she tried to stop it from biting her again when she felt something hit her in the head. She had a microsecond to wonder what it was, and she knew no more.

“Let’s move!” Dallas pulled Rick toward the bus. To add emphasis, the bus’s horn sounded.

Defeated, Rick turned and limped back to the bus as fast as he could. The undead seemed to be coming out of the woodwork, and weren’t just behind them anymore. There were sizable forces coming from all directions. The bus backed toward them and they boarded quickly. Juanita gunned the accelerator, and the vehicle shot forward. The kids were crying loudly now, and the woman from the school was doing her best to console them.

Dull thuds were felt as well as heard, as the heavy school bus ran down sporadic dead. Their numbers were becoming less meager, however, and a throng of them were coming from behind and to the left.

The bus screeched to a halt outside of the condo where Chris and Martinez were sniping, and they exited the building rapidly. The doors pulled open as the pair rounded the front of the bus, and they jumped in, running up the three steps. Juanita stomped the gas pedal.

Martinez sat in one of the green seats, his rifle held in front of him, barrel up. He put his head on his wrists and closed his eyes.

“He had to,” said Chris as he watched the school shrink in the distance.

Dallas put his hand on Martinez’s shoulder. “You done her a kindness son, never forget that. And you saved a buncha kids, and me n’ him to boot.” Dallas thumbed at Rick.

“Did I?” Martinez kept his head down.

The woman from the school approached the men in the front seats. “Thank you all so much for helping us,” she said. “We didn’t have much food left, and the kids were scared.”

Rick looked up at her. “You look familiar, have we met?”

“I don’t know, you look like someone I know too. Are you from San Francisco?”

Light dawned on Rick. “Are you a flight attendant?”

The woman looked confused. “Yes, yes I am, how did you know that?”

Rick smiled. “Debbie?”

“Yes! Who are you?”

“You looked after my daughter on a flight from Boston last week.”

“Sam! I remember, you picked her up!” Her face dropped,   “Oh my God, where is she?”

“She’s on Alcatraz, which is where we’re headed.”

Relief flooded through her. “What was your name again, I’m so sorry I can’t remember.”

Rick stuck his hand out. “Rick Barnes.”

12

Doc Murda raged. He flew around the warehouse loft knocking things over as he fumed. One of his soldiers watched nervously, his fears coming true as Murda suddenly ran up and kicked him in the balls. The man doubled over and Murda punched him in the back of the neck. In a fetal position on the floor, he tried in vain to protect himself as Murda kicked him over and over.

“How could this happen?” he screamed. “How did you let them get away? Was there a part of the plan that was unclear?”

“They g-got there first!”

“Excuses! You would dare?”

“But…”

Murda pulled his 9mm and shot the man seven times, shaking his head as his former follower’s life drained away.

“My apologies. Your orders were simple. All you had to do was get me the children. I am not accustomed to failure, and yours was monumental.” Shrugging his shoulders, he looked up at Pee Wee and Masta G, who had watched the scene play out without comment. “It’s so hard to find good help these days.”

Murda spun on his heels and sat at a desk, spreading a map before him as he nodded. “We’ll hit them in the morning. I want them to know we are coming as well.” Masta G raised an eyebrow and looked at Pee Wee, but Pee Wee just stood there with his tree-trunk arms folded, looking disinterested.

“I will spread fear like a new plague. They thought the dead were terrifying? Wait until I’m finished. We will spare few, but we will make them all think that surrender is an option. I want female prisoners, but eliminate the men.”

“What about the kids?” asked G.

“The children have already been polluted by the filth of the police and their ilk. There can be no redemption. It pains me, but they must be sacrificed as well. We will find new minds to mold, and our army will grow and we will prosper. Masta G, if you would be kind enough to lend me the Colonel’s radio? I would like to inform our neighbors that their doom has been sealed.”

G unclipped the military walkie-talkie and handed it to Murda, who set it down on the map. Murda walked to the edge of the loft and looked down on his people. Masta G and Pee Wee flanked him, standing slightly behind in clear deference.

“Citizens of the new world!” he yelled, “I took you in and sheltered you from the greatest plague in history! I provided you with weapons and ammunition! Food, water, and pleasurable company!”

At this, cheering started from below, and some of the men hooted and grabbed their crotches, pointing at four chained and naked women on one wall of the warehouse.

“The time has come for us to cleanse a different plague, one that has been with us for many years! We will make those who used to be in charge bow to us! We will no longer succumb to their traditions and laws! We will purify this country, starting with San Francisco! Starting with Alcatraz! No quarter will be asked, and none will be given! Kill them all, save a few females for our amusement! I ask only that you fight, my brothers, and revel in the slaughter. Our weapons and our will shall be the chisels that carve the future of
our
nation, and we shall make Alcatraz
our
new capital!”

As with many of Doc Murda’s motivational speeches, the desired effect was acquired. The warehouse went absolutely crazy with rage and pent frustrations. Some weapons were fired in the air, and several of the men began to use the chained concubines in full view of the entire building.

The cheering went on for a full minute before Murda raised his hands for silence. “Please brothers, contain yourselves lest we bring down the wrath of the plagued. The time for revelry is almost at hand, but let us first win this battle.” The place quieted down, and the occupants of the building could hear muffled pounding on the warehouse doors.

“We will need to dispatch our unwanted guests. Masta G, if you would please take a squad and eliminate any of the unholy? Please thin the herd from the windows if possible to minimize casualties to the troops. I wish to have the army prepared to leave at first light.”

“Cake.” G moved off down the stairs to acquire some conscripts.

Doc Murda returned to his desk and sat in his chair. He picked up the radio and tuned into the emergency frequency.

“..ord form the National Guard in two days. If you can hear, but can’t transmit, do your best to escape the city in any way possible. You can also make your way to the docks, secure a boat, and get to Alcatraz. We have food and water and ammunition. If you are trapped and can transmit your location, we will try to get to you. I repeat, this is Detective Captain Michael Meara of the San Francisco Police Department transmitting from Alcatraz. The city is lost. The infected outnumber the living by large numbers. The infected seem to fear fire and water. They will turn back from most fire, and the ocean will stop them. They seem to fear nothing else, so pleading and threats are useless. The SFPD has been decimated, and there has been no word from the National Guard in two days…”

Murda keyed the mic: “Captain Meara? I have a group of survivors with me.”

“Who is this? Please identify yourself.”

“My name is Doc Murda.”

“You’re a doctor? This is excellent! Is there any way for you to get to Alcatraz?”

“As a matter of fact, I was planning on paying you a visit tomorrow morning.”

“That’s wonderful, how many in your party?”

“Eighty seven…six actually,” Murda looked at the dead man on the floor, who was beginning to stir.

“I also have word of the National Guard.”

“Say again? Repeat that last! Did you say you have word of the Guard?

“I did! The National Guard has been defeated. They got trapped and tried to make a last stand in a Walgreens under the Bay Bridge.”

“Understood,” Meara replied solemnly. “Thank you for the information. It must have been rough for you to see them go down under an onslaught of dead like that.”

“On the contrary, it was exactly what I wanted; it was almost as if I had planned it. Oh wait! I did!”

“Say again?”

Murda articulated his words clearly: “I said, you dumb son of a bitch, that I planned and executed an attack, using the living dead, on a fortified National Guard position. When the screaming stopped, there were three survivors on the roof of the drug store, all of whom I captured and tortured information from. One was even a colonel. The colonel’s lackey told us where a store of weapons was, which we appropriated to use on your little commune tomorrow morning. You stole something from me, and now it is forever tainted.”

“Is this a joke? Stole something? What are you talking about?”

“The children you oaf. The children from the school.”

“So then that was you shooting at my people?”

“Bingo. I’m coming to kill you, Detective Meara.”

“We’ll be ready.”