Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue (23 page)

The girl with the rifle was crawling towards me, trying to hold the blood in her neck. It wasn't going well, and her precious fluids were draining into the ground. She crawled along, making a horrible crying-moaning sound as she slowly dragged herself through the grass. The bite was severe, and fatal. Not only was the skin pierced, most of her muscles and blood vessels were torn out. They stained her jacket and old jeans I knew what was coming next.

She was going to turn.

The mechanism of the dog bite wasn't as clear as the bite of the human Red-Eye. If the bite wasn't too severe, the victim may not turn. Claire herself sported a scar on her wrist from a minor dog bite a few years ago. Other residents of Cannon Fields had tangled with dogs, and lived to tell the story. Doctor Connelly had a theory that the parasite that turned the dogs had possibly changed, and now a dog bite had to be severe to turn a human.

This was the case with the poor girl on the ground before me. Her shoulder was ripped open, and many thousands of deadly parasites were injected into her bloodstream. I took one step, then two. The dying girl on the ground stopped crawling and flipped over onto her back. She began groaning, clenching her fists, and twitching as the parasites took hold in her skull. The process was beginning. She was going to be human for only a few minutes more. Soon, she would be a red-eyed killing machine, hunting flesh to eat.

Another step, and I was almost standing over her now. The groaning continued, now changing to muted gurgling and growls as her brain dissolved within her skull. I stepped by her side, drew my weapon, and aimed at her head. It was almost time. Time to put her down.

She saw me standing over her, and drew a large revolver from under her jacket, and aimed it up at me. Her gun hand shook as she put up one last fight against the organisms that were taking over her body. The girl was tough. She would not give up her humanity without a fight.

She lost the battle. People always lose when they are bitten.

The gun fell from her weak hand as the spark of life drained out of her. Convulsions, this time in her entire body, caused her to roll around on the ground. I had seen enough. I fired a bullet through her brain. For a few moments, the girl shuddered and twitched, but then her body went limp.

A voice called from the darkness. “Katie?” A young man kneeled down at the dead girl's side. He gently lifted the head. “Katie?” he said, his voice breaking a bit. He let Katie's head drop to the ground. “You...you killed her.” The young man fumbled in his holster for a gun.

I aimed my weapon at the teenager. “Don't do it! I don't want to kill you, so put the gun away.”

Outdrawn, he threw his gun to the ground, and knelt again at Katie's side. “You killed her,” he said again. “Why did you have to kill her?”

I started backing away. Maybe I was going to get away without shooting anyone else tonight. “She was turning, and I put her down.”

Then, my lights went out.

Someone had come from behind and clubbed me in the back. I hit the ground, and rolled over onto my back looking up at the cold, black sky. Funny, no stars tonight.

The blow didn't knock me out completely, but I was a little groggy. The young man that had been at Katie's side, and another strange guy in a black baseball cap, stood over me. Black Hat started searching my pockets, and took my gun. He stood up, pointing a shotgun at my head. The blow had taken all the fight out of me. I couldn't do anything but listen as they discussed my fate.

Black Hat looked at a few of the things taken from my pockets. “Who the hell is this guy? Is he in our crew?”

The other boy, still grieving over Katie, said, “No. Never seen him before. All I know is he killed Katie.” He pulled a large knife, bent down, and held the cold steel to my throat. “I'm going to cut him from ear to ear, and feed him to the fucking Red-Eyes.”

Black Hat pushed his friend away. Thankfully, the knife came away from my jugular vein. “No, Zack. You're not going to do that.” Black Hat bent down to take a look into my eyes. He was a blurry, black shape in my vision, and his voice had a little echo. “Jimmy will want to meet him.”

Zack wasn't satisfied. “Well...I'm at least you're going to let me kick his goddamn ass a little. Right?” He flexed his hands into fists, and started breathing a little heavier at the prospect of beating me up.

Black Hat stood up, and spit a wad of chewing gum to the ground. “Oh, yeah. That can be arranged.” He laughed, as he and Zack pulled me to my feet.

They began to drag me back into the Fort. Zack was giggling with glee, telling me all the things he had planned when he got me back to headquarters. I could do nothing as they manhandled me away. I couldn't seem to make my arms, legs, or voice work. The pain from the blow to my back began to radiate pain to my head and legs. I felt like I was going to pass out, and I thought about Claire as the world shimmered before my eyes.

I hoped she got the hell out of the Fort and was on the way home. Knowing her, though, she was probably right behind us. I pictured her hiding in the night, ready to unleash her bat of justice, and I managed to smile. These guys didn't know what was in store for them.

Z
ack made good on his promise.

They worked me over pretty good. When they finally got me back to town, Zack slugged me across the eye, and sent me crashing to the floor. Then, him and the guy with the black hat took turns kicking me in the ribs, back, and gut. They held back so as not to knock me out, and stayed away from my face. It was just one body blow after another. Each boot to my body knocked the breath out of me, and sent me crawling around the office that served as my prison cell.

After what seemed like hours, Zack and his companion stopped beating me senseless and left. I was now lying in the semi-darkness with only a small lantern at my side. They placed me in a small room with dingy yellow walls stained with nicotine from thousands of cigarettes. I checked the door, but it was locked tight. The only other door in the room led to an empty storeroom. The process of checking everything caused me to become dizzy, so I crawled back to the thin blanket that was my bed. 

Managing to prop myself against the wall, I reached up to my face to check the damage. My left eye was swollen, and if I had to guess, probably a bit black as well. Running my hands along my ribs, back, and stomach revealed various aches and pains that were becoming bruises. Zack and his brutish friend with the black hat didn't even ask me any questions about who I was. They only laughed with glee as the beat the hell out of me.

Some people take all the fun out of an apocalypse.

Sitting in the dark, assessing my new injuries, I ran from anger to feeling sorry for myself. I worried about Claire and Lyle. Hopefully, they were far away from the Fort. Deep down, I knew better. Claire was not doubt skulking around trying to rescue me. If they kept beating me up, I wouldn't be worth the trouble.

With great effort and considerable pain in my head, I stood to try the door again. Before I could take hold of the slender, aluminum handle, it turned all by itself and the door opened. It was Zack, and along with a person I hadn't seen before, who was carrying a rifle.

Zack looked me up and down. “Managed to stand up, I see. Back it up!” Zack pushed me away towards the wall, and picked up the lantern from the floor. Leading me to the door, he said, “Let's go. Time to see the boss.”

They took me down a few doors from my office prison. I took a look at my new surroundings as Zack jabbed a pointy gun into the bruises on my back. It was an office building, with faded posters from exotic locations lining the walls and broken furniture piled on dirty carpet. A travel agency was my guess. We passed through a big central room on the way to another hallway, passing stacked cubicle walls and old equipment like copiers and computer monitors. Bright winter sunlight streamed through the greasy windows, hurting my eyes. The Fort must have been short on cleaning staff, because papers littered the floor. As we walked, we kicked around yellowed memos like autumn leaves.

Two doors down another short hallway was the meeting room. Zack opened the door and pushed me inside. He clicked a few lamps on, and the room filled with weak yellow light from old bulbs. Zack pulled a chair out from a conference table in the middle of the room, and pointed to the seat. “Sit here.”

I slowly walked into the room towards the table. Too slow. He pulled me by the arm the final few feet, and deposited me into the chair. Then he got into my face. “Don't fuck with me. I could still kill you.”

I looked him in the face. “Just do it already. All you do is talk about it.”

Zack answered by slamming his fist into my chest. The air rushed out of my body, and my head sank to the table.

“Tough guy? Don't think so,” he said, voice echoing off the bare walls of the room.

“Cut it out.” The guy with the rifle got between me and Zack. “Jimmy is not going to like it if you beat him to death.” Zack and the stranger began to scuffle. The rifle got close to my hand. I had a fleeting thought to grab it and use it to get away.

“Screw Jimmy,” said Zack, trying to wrestle out of his friends grasp. The fight continued for a few more seconds. I reached out a shaky hand to take hold of the weapon.

“Zack, Rodney. Cut it out, both of you,” came a voice from the door. They immediately stopped fighting, and stood against the wall. Two men entered the room. One was the man in the black hat who had captured me in the storage yard. The other man was a stranger to me, but he seemed familiar. They stepped to the chair at the head of the table next to where I was sitting. The stranger draped a scarf, then a black trench coat on the chair, as Black Hat whispered in his ear. The stranger nodded as Black Hat spoke.

Then it hit me. The stranger was the Junkman we had seen at Safety Two. It was the man who jacked the mini-van and pummeled his companion. He turned around and looked at me, and the face came right back. He had almost discovered us in the supermarket. This must be the mysterious Jimmy, Leader of the Junkmen.

He sat down heavily at the head of the table with a sigh. Rubbing his hands together for warmth, he stared into my eyes. I stared right back. Jimmy was a younger man than I thought, probably less than thirty years old. A mop of wild blonde hair framed his face, and there was a slight beard to match. Jimmy said nothing as he stared, sizing me up.

He broke his gaze, and looked up at Zack and Rodney, who were still flat against the wall. “Where's Katie?” he said.

No one answered at first, so Jimmy asked again, with a slight edge in his voice. “Where's Katie?”

Black Hat answered for his companions. “Forgot to tell you when you came in. Dog got her in the yard. It must have slipped in through one of the breaks in the wall.”

Jimmy leaned back in his chair. “Dog got her.” He sighed, and shook his head. He looked at me, and said,  “Damn shame. She was the daughter of a cop. Knew a lot about guns and self defense.” He turned back to Black Hat. “Well, did anyone put her down, or is she walking around down there?”

Everyone was afraid to answer. Jimmy asked again. “Did anyone kill her, or is she still walking around?”

“I shot her,” I said, my voice low. “I put her down.”

Jimmy's eyes met mine. “I suppose I should thank you. Hate the thought of my people walking around changed into those things.” He waved Black Hat over to his chair. Black Hat snapped to attention and went to Jimmy's side. “Donnie,” Jimmy said. “When we're through here, take a crew and find that dog. No excuses this time. I want to see its corpse. And plug that hole. Can't have any more monster dogs running around ruining our home.”

“Okay, Jimmy,” said Donnie.

Jimmy turned back to me. “Now. Let's find out who you are. Let's start with a name.”

My name was the only thing these thugs were going to get. They would have to beat the rest out of me. “John,” I said.

Jimmy nodded. “John...good.” He looked at my swollen eye from the recent beating. “I'm deeply sorry about my associates beating you up. We're not usually so barbaric.”

“Don't mention it,” I said. My chest throbbed from where Zack had struck me.

Jimmy turned to Zack and Rodney, who were still plastered to the wall. “You two find something to do. We'll talk later about why you decided to beat our this man up.” Zack and Rodney  took their stuff and hurried out of the room. They were going to catch hell later.

Jimmy turned back to me to continue the questioning. “Now, John. Where are you from, and why were you poking around my vehicles after dark?”

I couldn't think of a good lie, so I improvised. “I'm just a traveler. I was looking for a warm place to sleep. Van looked like a nice place to curl up for a while. ”

Jimmy leaned back. “Now why don't I believe you?”

“You can believe what you want,” I said, looking Jimmy in the eye. The first rule of trying to lie to someone: always look them in the eye. Denise taught me that.

Jimmy leaned back in to the conversation. “Who was the girl you were with?”

“What girl?”

Jimmy shook his head in mild disgust. “Don't insult me. I didn't get this job by being stupid. I know everything that happens in this place. You were seen in one of the bars eating with some girl. Skinny little thing with a baseball bat.” Jimmy paused as Donnie whispered something in his ear. “What about the guy in the black jacket? Who was he?”

I expanded my lie. “I was traveling with the guy in the black jacket. We're from Flomaton. I picked him up outside the town limits. He had a van, but it gave out a few miles down the road. The girl was a starving ragamuffin we picked up in Birmingham. She's nothing to us. Too skinny, but we fed her and she wouldn't go away.”

“Where are they now?” Jimmy asked.

“Don't know. They ran off when Katie caught me.”

Jimmy stood, and started pacing. “I just don't believe you.” He stopped and placed his hands on the table, leaning in to finish his thought. “Your beard and hair are trimmed. Your clothes and shoes are in fairly good shape. You're thin, but not starving. And you come to my Fort with two friends, and this.” He reached into his waistband, and pulled out a gun. My gun.