Dead Sprint

by William Walsh

Too bad the Guardsmen were so close. Right now would be a great time to throw some dynamite. I was ducking down in a bush and doing my best to keep quiet. I could hear the sound of the hummer riding up and down but the shooting had stopped. They must have nailed the whole block. Then I heard the hummer idling near where I was. I froze when I heard them talking.

  “I think I saw him hop the fence.”

  “Where?”

  “Over there.”

  “No way. It was probably a zombie.”

  “Zombies don’t hop fences dickhead.”

  “Well who the hell would be out here now?”

  “It was probably that mad bomber we’ve been looking for.”

  “HEY YOU! BY THE FENCE. SHOW YOURSELF OR YOUR GOING TO GET SHOT!”

  “Shut the hell up Specialist; you don’t have to threaten the guy like that. What if it’s just some lost civilian or some scared girl? Call him again and this time be nice or you’ll be running back to the base.”

  “Alright, alright. Damn Sarge, you aint got to be like that. OK YOU BY THE FENCE COME OUT. WE’RE HERE TO HELP... C’MON WE KNOW YOU’RE THERE JUST COME OUT.”

  “Fuck it” I thought inside. I had a better shot getting home in the hummer than running like I usually did. “Ok. Ok. I’m coming out.”

  I made my way through the bushes and saw the soldiers with their guns pointed at me. I put my hands up and approached. I watched them eye my pistol, and even more so the dynamite strapped across my chest.

  “Get in quick. They’re coming.”

  I found the door and got in. I saw four soldiers. Two in the front, one next to me and I was staring at the knees of another who was up in the turret. Nobody said anything as the driver put hummer in gear and started moving.

  “So you guys don’t wear any body armor or anything?” It was a nervous question.

  “No point. Nobody’s shooting at us. Just slows us down,” the sergeant said from the passenger seat.

  I looked at the soldier next to me. She was young. She didn’t look like the typical soldier, but not many of them really did. The oldest was the front passenger, the one referred to as “Sarge”. The driver kept his face forward and didn’t say much. I just read “Hardman” on the back of his cap which I assume was his last name. The engine roared to life as the driver hit the accelerator and we were off. The soldier in the turret bent down and looked in my face. I could tell already he didn’t like me.

  “Yo, that’s the guy that’s been setting them fucking bombs off all the time. Look, he’s got dynamite strapped to his chest. Hey, motherfucker where’d you get all that anyway?”

  “What did I say about the language?” the sergeant turned around and yelled, neck muscles tightening as he spoke.

  “I know. Sorry Sarge. But seriously, this is the dude blowing up half the neighborhood.”

  “Calm down already. So what if he is? Just shut up for once,” The female soldier said interjecting.

  “I’m afraid we are going to have to confiscate those explosives sir, however you can keep your pistol. The new law states that a citizen, when not at or travelling to a licensed trading post, is authorized to carry no more than two semiautomatic or bolt action rifles, or one assault rifle with fully automatic fire capability. No more than two pistols are authorized. At no time are rounds .50 caliber or higher authorized for a private citizen. A shotgun can be used in place of either one of the pistols or the semi-automatic rifles. Citizens are not authorized to carry or use any type of handheld explosive to include stick dynamite and grenades of any form to exclude any smoke or illumination used for the purpose of signaling and maneuver.”

  I stared at the sergeant and cracked a small hidden smile that he had the whole thing memorized. How hypocritical. Still hiding my smirk I removed the bandolier of dynamite knowing I had no choice. The soldier next to me held her hand out. I handed it to her without a fuss. I still had a few sticks in my pocket but now my main supply was gone. We drove in silence for a while. I could feel the tension. Whoever the soldier in the gun turret was, I could tell he had it in for me. I broke the silence.

  “So where we headed?”

  The sergeant spoke. “Back downtown.”

  “Then what?” I asked

  “Just be patient. We’ll be there soon.”

  There was no real hostility in his voice but I was still pretty nervous. He didn’t really tell me what we were doing. I turned to the soldier next to me. Her face seemed very familiar. I didn’t know her but I knew someone who looked just like her. Julie! That’s who she looked like, my sweet Julie. She was the love of my life before this mess started.

  I had gotten into a great school on a track scholarship and majored in chemical engineering. We met while I was a sophomore and stayed together the whole time we attended school until this whole mess broke out. She had an interest in government and law and planned on pursuing politics after graduating. Many guys would find a woman with her level of intellect intimidating. I didn’t. I loved her for it. I never got tired of hearing her speak. She could charm anybody with her words and her smile. Every speech she gave at the school had all the students, whether interested in politics or not, hanging on her every word.

  As busy as she was, she never once missed it when the track team would compete. She cheered and yelled for me every time. And win or lose, she was right there when it was over. When the sickness came and everything started to fall apart she’d been an early victim. She had been bitten shortly after the outbreak. I took her back to her place and took care of her as best I could knowing that the time was limited. I cherished every second of those final days.

  One day, I made my way to town to pick up some medical supplies. After coming back, when I was about to open her front door I could hear scratching on the other side. Then there were these groaning sounds. Though changed horribly, the voice was distinctly Julie’s. Each groan cut deeper than the next. I leaned against the door and cried. This wonderful smart girl, a girl who was cherished and valued by so many was reduced to this, a walking shell of her former self. I returned to her apartment later that day and boarded up the entrance. I didn’t want her loose, but I couldn’t imagine the idea of having to hurt her, even if she was technically already dead. The girl next to me had some of her features and it tortured me.

  “Are those braces?” I asked her.

  She turned and smiled displaying them. “Yeah. They are.”

  “Do you ever make it to the orthodontist? I would have pulled those things off.”

  “Well maybe someday. I’m not ready to pull them off yet.”

  “Ha. You hear this shit? This asshole thinks he’s going to pick her up. Keep trying bro, you’ll be jacking it tonight like the rest of us,” the gunner yelled down.

  “You know something; at least he’s being nice. You hit on me nonstop and you’re an immature jerk.”

  “Yea whatever Kim you know you love it. You could use a good man like me.”

  “That’s why I’m glad you’re the gunner because then I don’t have to see your face,” She yelled back with her face reddening.

  “You know Kim I like being the gunner too with you in the back seat. You’re in a good spot for me. I could just unbutton while we’re driving and you can …”

  The sergeant turned and grabbed his pant leg cutting him off.

  “God damn it Specialist. How many times do I have to tell you to keep your mouth shut?”

  “I’m sorry Sarge. Just a rough night, ya know?”

  The familiar streets of came up. The soldiers at the entrance waived and opened the gate for the hummer. The sergeant waived back and we went in. We made our way through the part of the compound that was off limits to regular citizens. This section was military only. There were more wire fences even within the gate. We made our way through a maze of razor wire and small military occupied buildings that were once local businesses. We eventually stopped at more official looking building. I assumed it was some type of
headquarters. I was asked to leave the vehicle wait to be escorted in. The sergeant got out and came towards me. He turned to me, slung his weapon over his shoulder and extended his hand. His demeanor was professional yet relaxed.

  “Sgt. Duane Jones. Good to meet you.”

  I shook his hand and told him my name.

  “It’s real simple I’m just going to take some fingerprints and a short statement and you can be on your way. Sound fair?”

  “Sure,” I responded.

  Nobody paid me too much mind as I was brought in. I passed busybodies of all ages in that same odd grayish digital camouflage. The sergeant kept his stern face as he lead me to a plywood table with a simple set up of ink and paper for fingerprinting. It was like this now. With the dead rising, the information age was officially over. The days of the internet being the go-to for all information, the days of huge networks of endless databases was over. We were back to the dark ages of pen and paper. I wrote out a short statement, fudging the truth by saying I was lost and not out zombie fishing. Soon enough I was finished and the sergeant led me back outside.

  The three other soldiers were leaning against the Hummer. I could see them a little more clearly now. The female sat crossed legged out the back door staring at the ground. The driver and the gunner stood by the front with the gunner carrying on. Three rifles leaned against the hummer. The driver looked at me with a hard gaze. A wad of chewing tobacco the size of a cue ball bulged from his