Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue (24 page)

Jimmy brandished it around, then stowed it back in the waistband of his pants. “Almost fully loaded and clean. Doesn't look like the gun of just a traveler.” He pointed at me. “No. My gut tells me you belong to someone. Somewhere in this crazy world, someone loves you. Maybe a few someones. Are you part of a community, John?”

I swallowed hard, and hoped Jimmy didn't see my discomfort. The last thing this maniac needed to know was the exact location of Cannon Fields. “Just a traveler,” I said again. “Looking for a little salvation, I guess.”

Jimmy smiled an evil, oily smile and sat down again at the table. “Aren't we all?”

Donnie spoke from the doorway. “Maybe he's from one of those communities down south. Find out where he's from, and we can ransom him off.”

Jimmy lit up at Donnie's suggestion. “Not a bad idea. Are you worth anything, John? Would somebody pay for your release? You know, we can set the plan in motion if you would just tell us who you really are.”

I managed to smile. “Sorry. I guess you're just going to have to beat it out of me.”

Jimmy shook his head. “Another zombie-killing tough guy.” He waved Donnie over to the table. “Like I said, we try not to be barbarians in the Fort.” Jimmy nodded, and Donnie picked me up from the chair by force and jammed his rifle into my back.

“Could have fooled me,” I said.

Jimmy got up to leave. Our little meeting was over. “We'll take you back to our holding room. Couple of days in the dark and cold, no food and water, and soon you'll be begging me to tell me who you are.”

I leaned in to whisper into Jimmy's ear. “Don't count on it.”

He just laughed. “Everyone has a breaking point. You might take a few days.”

The three of us walked back to the main office space of the building on the way back to my dungeon. As we passed by the front door, several people ran past at full speed. There was much yelling and chaos outside.

Jimmy furrowed his brow. “Donnie...go outside and see what the hell is going on out there.” Donnie gave his boss an uncertain look, hesitated for a second, but ran out the door anyway. He turned, and disappeared down the street. Jimmy watched his soldier run to the mob scene outside, then he took my arm. “Come on,” he said.

We reached the room that was to become my prison, and Jimmy shoved me inside. I took a seat on the floor to contemplate my situation. Jimmy turned to hurry and join his crew outside, but paused for a moment to bend down and talk to me one last time. “John, you have to know there's no way out. I'm going to let you sit in here for a while and think about things. Meanwhile, me and my men are going to find your friends. Then, maybe we can find out what we need to know.” He knelt down on the floor near where I was sitting. “Maybe you and your mystery buddies could be persuaded to work for me. I can always use more men here in the Fort.” Another oily smile crossed his lips.

As Jimmy spoke, a silent diminutive shadow appeared in the doorway behind him. Jimmy didn't know it, but my way out had arrived.

It was Claire, and she was ready for battle.

“You know, Jimmy. I don't think it's going to work out,” I said, ducking away.

Sensing something had changed, Jimmy rose up and reached for my gun in his waistband. I managed to hook his leg and he stumbled, offering himself to Claire's bat. The sweet sound of aluminum kissing off bone echoed off the walls as Jimmy went down with a heavy blow to his temple. It was a solid hit and Jimmy fell onto his back, his arms outstretched. He never got to draw a weapon.

Quiet descended over us. Claire stood over Jimmy poking him with a bat. After she was satisfied the fight had left him, she came over to me against the wall. “John? You okay?” Claire's eyes, blue as the ocean around some faraway beach, scanned me for injuries. She held my face in her hands. ”Look what those bastards did to you,” she said with naked anger in her voice. “You're a mess.”

“Got them right where I want them, I said.

“Yeah...right. Sure you do.” Claire took half a bottle of water out of her bag. She dabbed a little water on a clean rag, and applied it to some of the bruises on my face. When the cool rag touched my swollen eye, it sent electric shocks of pain throughout my face. I tried to act brave, but I winced anyway.

Claire gently held my head as she tried to clean my wounds. “Look what they did to you,” she said again, less venom in her voice this time.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“I followed you as they dragged you away. Wanted to make a move, but I was a little outnumbered.” Claire winced along with me as she tried to clean my eye a little more. “Came in through the back door.”

“Did anyone see you?” I asked.

“No. I was extra sneaky,” she said through a big smile.

I patted her arm. “That's my girl. Where's Lyle?”

“He's waiting outside,” Claire said. She took hold of my arm to help me up.

“It's morning. You guys wait in the Fort since last night?” I said.

Claire suddenly looked concerned. Then she started checking my eyes for concussion symptoms. “John...you were captured two days ago. How hard did they hit you?”

Two days. Two goddamn days. I had really lost track of time in my office holding cell. Weakness washed over me as dehydration finally took over. “Water. I need water...feel like I'm dying.”

She handed me a full bottle. “Here. Lyle stole a few.” She uncapped the life-saving fluid and put it in my shaking hand.

With fresh water in short supply, you didn't just pour the water down your throat. You saved every drop. You conserved your supply. You drank a little, then recapped the bottle till next time.

This time was different. I took the bottle and downed every drop. Dehydration was on the long list of potential killers in the big, bad world of the undead. I could almost feel my cells re-inflating with fluid as I drank. As the water replenished my systems, the fog in my head began to clear. After polishing off the water, I got to my feet. We had a lot to do.

Claire and I dragged Jimmy's limp body to the furthest corner of the room. It might buy us a few minutes to escape. Blood was still flowing from the wound in his head, and he was unresponsive. “Let's get out of this madhouse,” I said.

“Come on. I have a surprise at the back door,” said Claire.

“Wait a minute.” I turned back toward Jimmy. The blood from Claire's bat strike was slowing down. Bending down, I searched Jimmy's waistband. “I want my gun back,” I said, grasping the familiar weapon at Jimmy's back. I checked the action and replaced it into my empty holster. Rooting around in his pockets, I found two of my extra magazines. Feeling much better, I turned to join Claire. Jimmy rolled over, and his hand brushed against my leg.

His eyes fluttered, opened, closed, then fluttered again. I was no doctor, but Claire's swing of the bat looked fatal. I reached down and felt for a pulse. His neck still throbbed, but it was very erratic and slow. Claire's strike had done some severe damage to the brain. Jimmy turned and groaned again, this time spitting up some dark blood. The young leader of the Fort was dying. I backed away into the hallway closing the door behind me. There was nothing I could do for him.

I joined Claire at the back door. She was crouched down, listening for trouble. “By the way, who was that guy I hit?” she asked.

Not wanting to reveal that it was the Fort's leader and discuss the implications, I said “Nobody. Just some thug.”

Claire threw open the door, and harsh sunlight flooded into my eyes. A cold, fresh winter breeze swirled into my lungs. I took a deep breath, and put my hand up to shade my eyes. Claire pulled on my other arm. “Come on. You have to check this out.”

We walked around two large dumpsters overloaded with trash. Hiding behind them was a gleaming white bus. It was lettered for the Huntsville airport, and had five rows of tinted windows. Lyle stood in the passenger doorway, a broad smile on his face.

Lyle and Claire had managed to steal an airport shuttle bus.

Claire and I climbed aboard. “How did you guys manage this?” I asked.

Lyle took the driver's seat and closed the folding door. “Neat, huh? It was parked on the outskirts of the storage yard. All hell is breaking loose down there this morning. People running all over the place. Claire and I just drove it away, and I don't think anyone even noticed. Seems like an even trade. This bus for our van. We just have to figure out how to get it out of here.”

The inside was nice, too. Five rows of cloth seats with an aisle between them. LED lights lined the ceiling, bathing the interior in a warm glow. Lyle had cranked the heat to high, so it was toasty warm. I took a seat in the first row, near the door, across from Lyle. “Very cool,” I said. “How long do you figure we have until they notice it's missing?” 

“Another fifteen, twenty minutes. You have a plan?” said Lyle.

“Maybe. Just take a slow roll to the front gate. Claire and I will duck down. Maybe the guard will just open the gate and let us out,” I said.

Lyle turned the key, and the strong diesel engine roared to life. After giving the bus a few moments to warm up, Lyle put the bus in gear and left the hiding place behind the dumpsters. He navigated to Main Street, and made a left turn towards the gate and freedom. He was moving at a nice pace, nice and slow as not to attract attention. None of the residents took notice as we drove up the street. Residents were too busy fighting real or imagined monsters at the other side of the Fort. Tough-looking men and women with weapons ran down the street toward the vehicle yard, while unarmed residents ran in the opposite direction. From the distance came the bark of rifles and handguns. An army of hungry Red-Eyes could be coming this way, looking for a little breakfast.

“That's good, Lyle. Nice and easy. Right up to the gate,” I said. Soon we were in the shadow of the Fort's wall.

Lyle began to narrate our approach to the exit. “Okay...here we go. Getting close to the gate now. Looks like one guard. He's waving us through. We might be okay.” The guard might just let Lyle pass, thinking he was just another Junkman out on an errand.

“Wait...wait. He's holding up his hand to stop me,” said Lyle. “What should I do?”

I crouched down further into my seat, making my injured eye throb. “Let him board. Tell him you've been sent on an errand outside. The leaders name is Jimmy. Tell him Jimmy sent you,” I said.

Lyle stopped with a whoosh of brakes and opened the door. The gate guard boarded, and stood on the stairs. “Morning!” said Lyle.

“Who the hell are you?” the guard said. It was my old friend Larry the Gatekeeper. I wondered if he ever slept, or maybe guarding the gate was a twenty-four hour job.

“I'm the new bus driver. Jimmy sent me on an errand outside,” Lyle said.

“No...no. This doesn't make sense at all. I was never told about any errands. You better come with me until we find out who you are. I've got to talk to Jimmy,” Larry said.

I came up from my hiding place, and jammed the gun in Larry's back. He half turned, and his dark eyes went wide. “You? Where did you come from?” Claire walked up the aisle, and joined me at the front of the bus. “And there's the little one. Great. I knew you two were trouble.”

He fumbled on his belt to pull his enormous gun, but he couldn't seem to get it out of his holster. I put my gun to his head, and he stopped moving.

“Just open the gate, Larry,” I said, calmly.

Larry didn't budge. “Fuck you. What are you going to do if I don't open it?”

Pushing him out the door of the bus, and up to the gate, I said, “It's been a bad couple of days, Larry. Just open the gate, and stand aside to let us out.” Chaotic noise and lots of gunfire erupted just a few blocks away. Mayhem was coming right at us. Things were about to get really bad.

“Just open it, and get out of the way.” I put my gun in his face to make my point.

Larry looked uncertain for a minute, but realized I wasn't kidding around. He turned, unlocked the massive gate, and pushed it open. Lyle tromped on the accelerator and the bus shot outside. He stopped on the street, and waited for me to board. I backed up to the bus, my gun still trained on Larry. When I got close enough, I jumped onto the first step.

Larry the Gatekeeper pointed a crooked finger in my direction. “You'll be sorry you did this. You'll see. You and your little friend. You'll be sorry you messed with us,” he said. With that, Larry pulled the gate closed. We were outside, and free to go.

Lyle stood on the gas again, and the bus screeched away from the wall. We were now on the junk-infested streets, looking for a way out of town. Lyle was a skillful bus driver. He craned his neck up and down looking for escape routes around the cars and trucks clogging the roads. The steering wheel danced in his hands as we swayed left and right to find a clear path out of town. I stayed at the front, trying to guide him to safety, but a wave of dizziness swept over me. I found the first empty seat and sat down with a heavy thump. My head was spinning, and I felt sick. The Junkmen's beating might have done more damage than I thought.

Claire came to my side. Lyle found the first safe spot and stopped the bus. He joined Claire at my seat, looking concerned at my condition. Lyle scanned my face and saw the injuries from my beating in the Fort. “What did they do to you in there?”

“Roughed him up a little, but he's fine,” Claire said, taking my hand. Red-Eyes, roused by all the activity, began to surround the bus. “Lyle...we need to get out of here.”

“You got it.” Lyle bent down to talk to me. “Don't worry, John. I'll get you home.” He stood, and turned to take his place behind the wheel.

Home. Home to my wife, Claire's family, and safety, decent food, clean water, maybe a bath, and a comfortable, warm bed. The mission to get Lyle's people would be over.

“Wait,” I said. “We need to find your people. Complete the mission.”

“No.” Lyle shook his head. “Look what they did to you. That's it. I've caused you enough trouble. It's over. We need to go home.”

I raised myself up from the seat. “Lyle,” I said. “My first wife was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Why she settled for me, I don't know. We had two years together, just enough time to begin to take things for granted. I always knew I would see her wake up, go to work, and come home. Just like the sun coming up, I knew it would happen just like that, every day. On that terrible day long ago when the dead rose, I couldn't find her. She was gone, but the very worst part is that I just don't know what happened to her. It haunts me, even to this day. I couldn't take care of her, and now she might be one of those things out there hunting, killing other people.” With great effort, I reached up and took hold of his jacket to steady myself. “You have to know what happened to your friends. They meant everything to you, just like my Gia. Even if they're gone, you have to find out. Trust me. It's not going to go away, that feeling that you could have done something. It's going to eat at you forever.” I settled back into my seat.