Run

by Burk, William

  'Creak'

  I spin towards the stairs rifle up and firing as soon as I'm aiming down the hall. No one there the round thuds into the sidewall shot going too far left. 'shit wasted round, two left' I think as I cock the next round still aiming down the hallway at the stairs. I kneel down and wait, hearing no further sounds. I begin thinking about that window again. Moving into the room on my left which is the room overlooking the backyard . I have a clear view and see no one out there but the idea to shoot the fuel tank comes to me to create a distraction. Opening the window I take aim, It's not exactly close but with the size of the tank, I shouldn't have too much of an issue. I aim down the sights lining up my shot. I pull the trigger and pull away from the window covering my head in preparation for the explosion. Nothing. The only sound was the clanging of the bullet hitting the tank and the small whooshing of fluid pouring out. Confused, I look out the window and the tank is still standing as it was only now with a small hole and fuel pouring out of it.

  "Fucking movies!" I mutter to myself cocking the last round.

  A hand grabs me, pulling me roughly away from the window and yanking the gun out of my hands. I fall back onto my back looking up at the man looming over me. I kick out at his knee without thinking. He yelps in pain as he falls backward himself. Rolling to my knees I lunge myself on top of him going for this throat intending to suffocate the life out of him with my bare hands. We struggle for a moment but with his being twice my size and the strength to go with it. I don't have much chance of winning a wrestling contest. Instead, I scramble to get away and toward the door. He grabs onto my ankle with a vice-like grip. I kick out at his hands and face succeeding only in breaking his grip long enough to get up. We both struggle to our feet at the same time. He lunges forward trying to grab me. My former training kicks in and I send a foot jab straight into his solar plexus. Catching him completely off guard and knocking the wind out of him. My kick stops his momentum but sends me flying back into the wall as well. Having knocked the air out of him he's coughing and gasping for breath. Before he has a chance to recover. I grab a decorative ceramic figurine off of the bookshelf and smash it across his head.

  I come up empty in the quick search for my gun. The destruction of the room from the fight did a great job hiding it. Wanting to get out of this house I accept it as a casualty. I'm hoping it's the only one. I check the hall seeing it empty. I dart across to the adjacent room with the window overlooking the front of the house. There stand two men one of which is the leader of this whole thing. I'll have to go out the back way to avoid them. I rush back across the hall. The man I smashed across the head is beginning to stir. I don't stop to check if he's still alive or zombie now, either way, I'm just passing through.

  I stick my head out the window taking a quick look before jumping down. I land roughly and fall to my hind end but all is intact with no injuries. I get up and make my way to the corner of the house to make sure the way is clear before I dash to and over the fence. That's a no go, a male with a large gun in hand is making his way around the house toward my direction, with a gun at the ready. I wait at the corner listening as his footsteps come closer. Just as he steps past the corner I react. Standing up in a hurry, I push the gun in the opposite direction before punching him in the throat.

  'Pop!'

  The gun goes off alerting everyone within a two-mile radius of my location. The shot hits nothing but open air but that's not the point anymore. I wrest the gun out of his control as he is having coughing fits. Taking the shotgun in a two-handed grip I bash him across the face as if it were a baseball bat. The two men from the front come into view firing guns at me. I drop the improvised bat and dart back around the corner of the house. I run for the garage planning to go around the back of it to the fence on that side of the property. Before I make it very far another figure comes out the back door and cuts off my path. 'shit, that's definitely more than six people' I think.

  He takes his time aiming his gun at me with a smug look on his face. Behind me, the other two are coming around the corner now. I can't go back that way. And every other direction is an open yard for fifty-plus meters. I'm screwed and I know it. I take a breath. Putting my hands down accepting my fate and taking solace that I've seen no sight of Adam and the girls. They might have gotten away at least. I lift my eyes to the man ready to die. He watches me for a moment before shouldering his shotgun and aiming at me. Before he pulls the trigger, a figure leaps from the shadowed recesses of the doorway onto his back. It's head is buried in his neck as the zombie tears chunks from the man. The man screams dropping the gun and flailing backward onto the ground. The figure that jumped him continues to ravage him. Zombies are so few and far between anymore it completely escaped my mind they even exist anymore.

  I start to move again.

  "Don't fucking move." A voice calls out behind me.

  I turn around having completely forgotten the two people that came up from the side. 'Shit still screwed'

  "I have a fun idea, I'm going to let the zombie have you for dinner," the man says.

  I recognize the speaker as the man who was leading the group. For minutes I stand there listening to the zombie eating the body of the other man. What kind of world is it to be held at gunpoint waiting your turn to be eaten by a zombie. To my relief, I'm not waiting very long before the night echoes with more gunfire. I flinch before realizing I'm unharmed and look around for the source. Both the men holding me captive drop to the ground with holes in their chests. From the corner, Adam yells!

  "Run!"

  I make out Adam and Sarah before they disappear from sight back around the corner of the house. They must have snuck up behind while everyone focused on me. I look over my shoulder in time to see the zombie getting to its feet with its eyes locked on me. The gunshot grabs its attention from its meal. Its now focused entirely on me.

  I run, the zombie following right behind. I can hear the zombie pursuing my every step as I sprint around the corner of the house. It dogs my every step through the yard toward the front gate that sits wide open. My tired battered and beaten body agonizes me with every step. I want nothing more for this to be over. Death awaits if I stop and right now my goal is in sight. I don't see Adam or Sarah anywhere and I'm praying to all the gods they are at the gate ready to slam it shut behind me in the face of the zombie.

  One hundred and fifty meters to the gate from the house. 'shit this is a big yard' I think to myself. All I can hear now is the beating of my racing heart and the footsteps of the zombie chasing. The world is otherwise silent. It is at this moment I notice for the first time that the zombies don't make much in the way of noises. No growls, no screams, nothing just the sounds of them hitting things or eating, Right now it's the footsteps plaguing me. I push the thought out of mind refocusing on the simple task of running for my life. Only seventy meters to go, still no sight of anyone at the gate. I'm gasping for breath at this point as my bruised body begins slowing me. I estimate I have a dozen meters between myself and the zombie as my energy starts failing me. I'm hitting the so-called runners wall I fear. See that's the problem with the zombies. A full sprint speed will easily put some distance on the zombie. But one can only maintain a sprint for a few seconds. Whereas the zombie doesn't grow tired as we do. War of attrition it is and I don't think I can win this time around.

  The zombie is closing the distance. I can tell by the sounds of its footsteps getting closer and louder. The gate is just feet away now. I breathe deep trying to calm myself. learning forward further I double down on my effort as I cross the threshold of the gate. I don't stop as I look over my shoulder just long enough to check the gate. No one was waiting to close it. 'shit' I mutter shifting my gaze forward and scanning for anything I can use to get away. fences I can hop quickly or anything of the sort. I'm out of luck though. This neighborhood is all six-foot fences and with how close the zombie is. I have no faith I can make it over one before it catches me. Nor am I confident I'd even be able to get over one in
my current state. Instead, I tense my hands and put the rest of my energy into sprinting.

  Only a few seconds my surge of effort lasts having only been enough to maintain distance between us. I'm so exhausted at this point I'm ready to lie down and let it have me. And right, as I'm about to give up a truck, comes gliding alongside me startling me. Even right next to me I have trouble making out the sounds of the engine over my racing heart throbbing in my ears. The sound of my own ragged breathing, not helping much either. From the passenger seat, Sarah's head is sticking out the window yelling

  "Get in"

  The truck speeds up a bit pulling in front of me. So I can get into the bed. Adam stands in the back with the tailgate down reaching a hand out to me.

  "Come on" he's yelling and gesticulating.

  I reach out for him but he's out of reach. The truck is moving too quickly for me. Adam reaches back and hits the back window.

  "Too fast" he yells to the driver.

  The brake lights light up the road as the truck slows down enough for me to grab Adam's hand. I can feel the brush of a hand along my back as Adam pulls me roughly into the bed of the truck. I lie there gasping for breath savoring the burning in my lungs and legs. A burning that lets me know I've survived the night. The drive home is over before I know it, I may have passed out. Adam is helping me down from the truck bed when the entire driveway and front yard of the house is lit up with a blinding light. The light coming from the spotlights on the truck idling at the entrance of the driveway. We were followed home. After all that and there were more of them and we led them right to our home.

  #

  Chapter 16

  I sit on the lowered tailgate waiting for whatever is about to come. Blinded by the light all I'm able to make out are figures moving across the streams of light. I'm done. I don't have the energy left to struggle I think. And there are so many more men then we counted at the house. They must have multiple houses. The shadowy figures slowly approach through the length of the driveway. I look at each of my friends, in turn, regretting that I couldn't have done more.

  "Hands where we can see them!" A commanding voice cuts through the light.

  I look to where the voice came from but with the lights still shining in my eyes. I can see nothing other than the blinding light. I raise my hands to shoulder height already having accepted my pending death. The man steps closer coming out of the light. His hands are empty I note as he moves toward us.

  "Who wants to tell me about the commotion going on back there?" the man asks

  The tone he speaks with exudes authority but not in a threatening manner. Though with all the guns pointing our way from the rest of the shadowed figures. He doesn't really need any verbal threats.

  "How about shutting those lights off and I'll tell you whatever you want to know" I respond. Hoping this is a chance to talk our way out of danger.

  "fair enough"

  He turns signaling to someone right before the majority of the lights cut out. With just a single spotlight remaining pointed at the ground in the center of us all. Enough light to light the area up without blinding anyone. I rub my eyes blinking away the lingering effects of the bright lights. Around us and the truck stand at least a dozen people all holding guns but angled down rather than pointed at us. All the men and a few women are wearing the green clothing of the military. Confirmed further by the multiple military vehicles parked at the driveway end.

  "Army?" I ask confused. "Where did you come from?"

  "How about you tell me what all the gunfire was about first?" He asks.

  I lean forward sliding off the tailgate and onto my feet to stand face to face with the individual. In the process of standing up, I just about fall on my face. My legs are too exhausted to handle such a quick transition from sitting to standing. With one hand on the truck to steady myself, I proceed to tell him everything about the night and events leading up to it. The mugging and ransacking of the house, The stealing of the fuel and my following them to their base on a bicycle. The men kidnapping Amanda and Sarah and the murder of Peter. Whose corpse is still lying in the yard only fifty meters away from where we are currently standing. I end my story covering how we got the girls out and that nobody else made it out of the house alive. He listens in silence the entire time without even the slightest hint to his thoughts.

  He nods as I finish speaking. He turns gesturing to someone that runs up.

  "Get some food and water prepped. Our friends here have had a rough night," he says before turning back to me and the group.

  "These are rough times. You did what was necessary to protect you and yours" He says reaching his hand out to me.

  I reach my own hand out noticing the blood still on my hands. He doesn't seem to care as he takes it firmly in his own in a gesture of greeting.

  "Sergeant Ward but we don't stand much by tradition these days. You can call me Owen." He says.

  He shakes the hands and greets each of us individually. I wait for him to finish before asking.

  "OK Owen, What's your story. How did you find us tonight?"

  "That's easy, We heard all the gunfire from our safe house and came to see what the commotion was about. When we got into the area we saw you and the truck speeding off. So naturally, we followed. Not before I sent a squad to search the neighborhood though." He answers.

  Just then a female and a male step up handing the four of us warm packets of food and bottles of water. The warmth seeps into my hands reminding me how cold it is out here. The food is simple spaghetti and meatballs. After the day we've had it is some of the best tasting food I can remember eating in my life. I wash it all down with the bottle of water. Wiping my mouth on my sleeve I look up to Owen.

  "How about we go inside and get out of the cold before continuing our conversation?" I gesture toward the house.

  "Lead the way," he says with a smile.

  In the house, I head over to the fireplace and get a fire started. While Owen and a few of his men and the rest of my group take up various seats around the room. Leaving the recliner nearest to Owen's seat open for me. Taking a seat I watch the fire building and licking up around the wood before catching for a long moment.

  "Nice place you have here. Been here long?" Owen asks.

  I sit up straighter before answering. "A little over two months now. Between what we could find in the other houses around here. And fishing from the creek we haven't had too hard of a time surviving alone."

  "Mhm, Water from the river and farmland to grow crops during spring and fall. You guys have yourself a pretty good setup for long term survival. No walls but this far from the city. You're not likely to attract zombies, at least not that many. Not to mention they've all but disappeared since winter kicked into force." Owen chimes in.

  "What? Zombies have disappeared in the cold weather?" Amanda asks, cutting in. "They go south for the winter or something?"

  Owen takes a breath before continuing. "Well the thing is before the cold weather we would patrol. Regularly killing any zombies we could find. All the military in the city were doing this. But around the time the weather started freezing the zombies sort of just vanished. We have a few theories floating around the settlement. The main two are the zombies have frozen either to death or just waiting for spring to thaw. Or they have starved to death and the weather is just a coincidence"

  I note the word settlement while Owen is explaining the theories. A settlement means safety. It means people. I lock eyes with the others. As soon as Owen stops speaking the four of us speak over one another asking the same question. In various methods, all of them coming out a jumbled mess. I take a loud breath indicating for the others to shut up.

  Clearing my throat. "Settlement? tell us everything."

  "On the north side of town, we have a small subdivision with a good hundred or so survivors like yourselves. and a few dozen soldiers. Only a few miles from the neighborhood of tonight's activities. Truth be told you might have a better thing going on here than we do.
So far We've been living off river water and stockpiles of military supplies. Plus whatever we're able to scavenge"

  "OK, so what do we do then? I mean are you implying we don't come live in the settlement with you guys?" I ask not even knowing if I want to go.

  "No. we're all free men, you are welcome to come to the settlement. I didn't mean to say otherwise I just let my imagination get the better of me. I see this farm and you all having been living here safely with no trouble from zombies. And my mind jumps to the future with the farm being full of corn or potatoes. Providing food for everyone while we work on rebuilding the nation. But no you don't have to do any of that or even join us. We can simply be neighbors and nothing more. Though all the farms in this area I'm thinking long term we move the settlement down here. Or at least a small base of soldiers for protection and folks for farming come spring. But for now, let's focus and getting to know one another and making it through winter yeah?" Owen responds.

  The sun is coming up by the time we wrap up conversations. The soldiers all pile into their vehicles to leave. Owen wanted to leave a couple of men behind as guards but my trust issues flared up and I insisted we'd be fine on our own. Same as we've been for months now, mostly.

  I watch the light creep across the living room floor as Sleep fails to find me. Every time I close my eyes I'm haunted by the faces of men I've killed. The horrors of what I've done throughout this ordeal weighing on my conscience. The others, however, have no problem slumbering. Gathered around the fireplace of the living room enjoying the fire and its warmth. Instead, I head outside grabbing a shovel from the barn and begin digging a grave for Peter. A physical act that sucks in the best of times. But with my body in the condition it is tonight, It's that much harder and takes that much longer.