Project Lazarus (14 page)

Together they heard the returning shots.  Derrick froze, panicked.

Somewhere in the confusion, a hand grabbed Derrick’s arm.  Instinctively, he pulled away.

“It’s me,” Dan whispered.

“Thank God,” Derrick whispered back.

“Come on,” Dan urged. 

Together they made a run for the door.  There were several guards on the floor above them. 

Dan and Derrick weren’t cowards.  They knew a losing battle.  They heard the screams of terror coming from above.  Men, good men, were being torn apart.  Locks were opened.  Shackles were removed and soon the living dead from hell would be joining them on the bottom floor again if they didn’t get out of there first.

“I can’t see anything,” Derrick said panicking, holding tightly onto Dan’s arm now.

“Got your gun?”

“Gone,” Derrick answered, “took it right away.”

“59 steps to the door.”

“What?”  Derrick asked, running with him now.

“Are you sure?” Derrick asked.

“Yeah, been counting them since I got in this forsaken place.”

“30 steps to the side door,” Derrick countered.

“Damn, knew you were bright kid.  Is it open?”

“Not sure.”

“Then we head for the front,” Dan told him, “no chances.”

“Good God in heaven above.  Do you hear them?” Derrick was terrified at the sounds he heard in the dark.  Men screaming for their lives.  Then footsteps again, scrambling down the stairs.

“Yeah, let’s go.  Come on a few more steps.”

“Think there’s more of them out there?” Derrick asked.

“Don’t know.”

Dan felt his hands touch the steel door.  He held his breath, said a prayer and pushed the door open.

The cool night air met the two men.  Dan and Derrick saw nothing more but darkness again.  At least, there were stars above them.  Did they dare breathe a sigh of relief?

No.  The door they just left behind them, swung open.

They hit the ground running for their lives.

“Wait,” a voice called out, “It’s me.”

Tara Calvin, one of the few women volunteers in Prison 12 was badly bloodied and hurt.

“Help me,” she pleaded, “they’re coming.  Don’t leave me.  Oh my God.  Don’t leave me.”

The two men ran back to her.

“We’re gonna get you out of here,” Dan reassured her.

Derrick and Dan now hovered over the woman who collapsed, the woman who was slowing them down from safety and escape.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged.

“Tara….I want you to listen to me.  We’re not going to leave you.  We’re all going to get out of here.”

“There are hundreds of them.  Hurry.  They’re coming,” she told the men.

Dan and Derrick instantly moved into action mode.  The two men, lifted up the tiny woman and carried her between them, arm in arm.

Sometimes she slowed them down, her feet dragging on the ground.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Dan told Derrick.

They stopped momentarily every few minutes, Dan gently patting her on the face, to keep her conscious.

“Stay with us Tara.  Just stay with us now.  We’re almost there.”

“Jay,” she mumbled, “Where’s Jay?” She asked.

Jay Calvin was her husband, also a volunteer in Prison 12.

The two men knew Jay hadn’t survived.  At least, they didn’t have any reason to think he did.  They would know more in the morning.  The casualties could be counted then.

Dan had to give Tara something to live for.  All of their lives depended on it.

“He’s fine.  He’s way ahead of us.  We’ll catch up soon.”

“I tried to grab him,” she was delirious now, “But that man with the crazy red eyes,” she fainted in their arms.

The two men heard rustling about them, in the leaves, in the woods, coming closer.  A decision had to be made.

“What do we do now?” Derrick asked.

Tara was collapsed on the ground before them, passed out.

“Too much blood,” Dan concurred, looking at her.  He shook his head, “God help us Derrick we can’t leave her here.”

“I know,” he agreed, “Now what?”

“Lift her into my arms,” Dan who benched 200 pounds suggested, “I’ll carry her.”

“I won’t say you can’t make it.  Because I’m not gonna let you die out here.  I promise,” Derrick said.

“Thanks son.  If we go down, we all go down together.”

“Damn straight.  Now let’s go.  I know these woods like the back of my hand,” Derrick assured him, gently lifting Tara into his arms.

He led the man, carrying the weight of Tara and the weight of the world.

It was nearing daybreak, five hours later, when Derrick and Dan saw daylight and the road.

The footsteps were behind them now, somewhere off in the distance.  They were coordinating, appearing to have a different destination.

The men stopped and glided Tara to the ground.

“Where do you think they’re headed?” Derrick asked.

“Don’t know,” Dan replied.

“Think she’ll make it?” Derrick questioned, looking at a very pale Tara.

“If we can get her to safety.  We’re about to hit the highway.  You got your radio?”

“Yeah, think it’s safe to call?”

Dan nodded and tended to Tara.

“Prison 12.  Come in Prison 12 here.  Take over at Prison 12.  All prisoners on the loose.  I repeat all prisoners on the loose.  200 gone.  3 living survivors on the highway in need of assistance.  Over.”

There was a quick reply.

“We hear you Prison 12.  Can you give us coordinates? Over.”

“About 5 miles out on the highway.  We need help now.  1 critical.  Over.”

“Help is on its way.  Over.”

Dan and Derrick smiled, slapped hands in the air.  Their happiness short lived.

Tara Calvin gasped, “Jay….Jay is that you?” 

“Calm down,” Dan whispered, stroking her hair, “help is coming.”

“Jay?”  She asked again her eyes momentarily opening, so bright and shining now, staring to the sky. 

“My beloved,” she whispered, her eyes closing.

Dan reached for her neck, where he might feel a pulse.

“She’s gone.”

“No,” Derrick wailed, tears flying out of his eyes now.

“We did the best we could,” Dan too was crying.

This was a loss.  In the small town of Cotter, where everybody knew the stories Tara and Jay Calvin were the parents of two young boys, probably holed up with their Grandma Joe.  They were good Christian people.  They were the kind of people who would sacrifice their own lives for their children and other people’s children.

In this cold digitized world we live in, money and power rule.  We’ve lost touch.  With each other.  No more hand written letters.  No personalized phone calls.  Everything is belittled to a quick answer on a text, instant gratification and communication.

Tara and Jay Calvin spent their entire year getting to know the people of Cotter.  They volunteered in rescue missions, such as this one.  They donated their time to a homeless shelter and gave a portion of their earnings to the food pantry.  They weren’t slick talking politicians telling people what they wanted to hear.  They were the real people who change this world every day and get no credit.

The weight of the loss was heavy.  The two men composed themselves wondering how they would tell two children both their parents were gone.  They weren’t sure about Jay but they knew he would never leave his wife behind.  That was proof enough for them.

Derrick picked back up the radio.

“Prison 12 again.  2 survivors.  I repeat only 2 survivors.  Over.”

“Damn.  Over.”

“Sherriff Traves?  Over.”

“Yes, Prison 12.  It’s me.  What happened out there?  Over.”

“They stormed the place.  It was a coordinated attack.  We didn’t stand a chance.  Super human.  All from hell.  No chance Sherriff Traves.  No chance.  Over.”

“Who’s left?  Over.”

“Just me, Derrick and Dan.  Over.”

“And the casualty?  Over.”

“Tara Calvin.  We suspect Jay is gone too. We tried to save her.  Over.”

“Damn. Over,” Sherriff Traves repeated.

“Prison 12.  Sorry for your loss.  13 take over’s last night.  Over.”

Dan and Derrick shook their heads.  It was unbelievable news.

Dan grabbed the radio.

“Traves.  It’s Dan here.  Is anybody coming?  Over.”

“Hold on Dan.  Help is on the way.  Over.”

“I mean to Cotter Sherriff?  Is anyone coming to save us in Cotter?  Over.”

“Always said I’d be honest to my people Dan.  Over.”

“No one?  Over.”

“Not yet.  Over.”

Dan lowered his head to the ground.

“We’ll wait.  Signing off.  Over.”

Prison 12 was gone.  The living dead from hell demolished the living inside and were planning now on the outside.  The terror was minimal before but now they knew about 13 total prison take over’s.