Sometimes We Ran (Book 1) (9 page)

Claire stopped. The blush got deeper. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She stood up, grabbed a flashlight, and quickly strode off into the darkness of the store.

I sat there in our dark campsite for a few minutes. My lips still tingled from Claire’s kiss. The girl could really knock ‘em dead. The last time I kissed a woman was my wife Gia about eight months ago. It was tempting to think about Claire in that way, but she was far too young.

I stood up, grabbed another flashlight, and attempted to find Claire. The store was too dark and dangerous to be alone.

“Claire! Where are you?” I called into the dank expanse of the store.

There was no answer at first. After a few seconds, a thin voice came back at me from the darkness. “Over here. Bedding section.”

I found her sitting on a mattress floor model. The sign said it was the “Comfort Star”, and that it was currently on sale. I walked over, and sat down heavily next to her. The “Comfort Star” lived up to its name. It was really soft and comfortable, but it smelled horrible.

Claire didn’t look at me, but she began to speak. “I’m sorry, John. I think it was the wine cooler. I don’t know why I did that. Never could hold my alcohol. I thought I saw something.”

“It’s okay, Claire.”

“No, it’s not okay.” She turned to look at me. Her eyes were red from crying. “I always do this. My brain shuts off, my hormones take over, and I turn stupid. You must think I’m some kind of a slut.”

“You’re not a slut. You’re not stupid either.”

“Still doesn’t give me the right to try and make out with you.”

I sighed. Claire was still so young, not much older than a teenager. I remember when I was like that. Full of emotions and hormones, I often didn’t make the right choices either. Add zombies and the end of the world to that and it could get a little overwhelming. I felt sorry for Claire. She had to go through all of this while it was still early in her life. It didn’t seem fair.

I chose my next words carefully.

“Actually, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it. You’re pretty easy on the eyes.” She looked up, and started to listen. “It’s just that I’m almost twenty years older than you. It wouldn’t feel right to me. Zombie apocalypse or not, I just don’t like dating women who are almost young enough to be my daughter. I think of you more like a friend or a buddy. We watch each other’s backs. You get what I mean?”

Claire smiled. It was good to see her smile. “Yeah. You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She put her arm around me. “Friends. That sounds good.”

“I guess we can chalk it up to the wine coolers, the dark store, and my rugged good looks. Right?” I was joking of course.

Claire giggled a little. “Right. Still pretty embarrassing though. Can we never speak of it again?”

“Right after I tell everyone I made out with a twenty-two-year-old college girl.”

Claire stood up and punched me in the arm. “Very funny, John.”

I rubbed my arm where she hit me. The girl could pack a punch too. “Now, let’s get back to the campsite. It’s dark and scary over here, and this mattress smells like boiled ass.”

“Okay.” We stood up, walked over to our campsite, and continued our evening. A few hours later we both fell into a deep sleep to end our day. Another day of being alive.

I smelled pancakes. Why did I smell pancakes?

Slowly, I opened my eyes and tried to focus. The long night on the cold concrete floor had done wonders for my aging joints and back. Everything was hurting, including my head. The multiple beers the night before were not a great idea either.

Claire, the morning person, decided I had slept long enough. “Time for pancakes,” she said, as she shoved a paper plate with what kind of looked like pancakes under my nose.

It appeared that Claire had put our kiss last night behind her. Another great thing about her: she was very adaptable. “How in the hell did you make pancakes?” I asked, taking a bite. The pancakes were a little misshapen and doughy, but they were actually pretty good.

“I worked something out. I found some pancake mix and added a little water, and then cooked them on the camp stove. Cool, huh.?”

Cool, indeed. Claire was turning out to be a great asset to our team. “Sorry there’s no syrup. I couldn’t find any that wasn’t spoiled. All the syrup smelled pretty bad,” she said, as she dug into her own stack.

“They’re great. A little raw, but not bad,” I answered, shoving silver-dollar-sized pancakes into my mouth.

“Glad you like them. I thought we needed a good breakfast. My next batch will have chocolate chips.”

I watched as Claire started to prepare the new batch of pancakes. She carefully mixed the chocolate chips, the pancake mix, and water into a discarded plastic container. Then she poured the soupy mixture on her improvised grill. As they solidified, Claire used a spatula to flip them, blowing wisps of hair out of her face at the same time. It was downright adorable. When the world was normal, she must have been a real heart breaker at her college. We had only been together for a couple of days, but I was beginning to really like having her around. Besides, an apocalypse is much more fun when you have a friend.

Claire and I sat in a busted-up store at the end of the world and ate chocolate chip pancakes. Even though the rest of the world was gone, we felt like the luckiest people in the world.

After our bellies were full, Claire asked her usual question. “What’s the plan, Tiger?”

I had just about given up on her calling me “Tiger.” The nickname had stuck. “Well, first we’ll get a few supplies together and fill our backpacks just in case we have to bug out. Then, we can check out the rest of the mall. I saw an exercise place a few doors down. They may have showers where we can take a bath.”

“Sounds good,” Claire said, her eyes sparkling. She really was a morning person.

We gathered food and bottled water and filled up our backpacks. We chose things that would keep, like canned food and other dry packed foods. We made sure we found some oatmeal cream pies as well. Claire threw in some cans of her citrus soda and some pancake mix. I was tempted to bring a beer or two, but I decided that it wasn’t essential to survival. Between our two backpacks, and with some careful rationing, we had about two to three weeks of food and water.

Next, we moved to pharmaceuticals and other assorted toiletries. I refilled my first-aid kit with aspirin and other pain-killers from the box I filled the day before. I also added a tube of antibiotic ointment, some assorted bandages, and other medicines that might help us on the road. I also added a small scissor and tweezers set to my kit as well. I assembled a first-aid kit for Claire. It was good to have redundant supplies in case we got separated. I also grabbed a little bottle of bleach for water purification.

I refilled my toiletries bag with travel-sized toothpaste, shampoo, soap, and some other assorted odds and ends. Claire filled up her own bag as well. I knew there were some other personal things she probably needed to pack.

“Uh, Claire, you may want to pack some ‘lady things’ to take along. I mean, I don’t know what your cycle is, or anything …” I stammered like an awkward sixteen-year-old.

She found it very amusing. “Already taken care of John.”

Claire then asked about toilet paper. “Only one roll? Is that going to be enough?” Strangely, finding toilet paper during a zombie apocalypse was not a problem. It seemed the U.S.A had an enormous supply of the stuff. Honestly, in the first few weeks of the outbreak, me and my fellow survivors were always finding tons of toilet paper. I swear, for every three trucks we raided, one was usually filled to the brim with every brand imaginable.

“Nah, we’ll be fine. Toilet paper is one thing in good supply.” She tossed the extra rolls she had packed back into the aisles of the store.

We then went shopping in the sporting goods section. Of all the sections in the store, it was the most messed up. Everything was either gone, torn up, or piled on the floor. Nothing much was salvageable. We were able to find extra batteries for our flashlights, and I was also able to find a pair of gloves for Claire. In this new world, you need gloves, because zombies love to bite hands.

The firearms section was a little better. I was able to find some rounds for our guns, even Claire’s .38. The biggest prize I found was the shotgun. It was a beautiful black-finished tactical model with a nice leather holster. It was also kind of heavy and cumbersome, but it was too nice to leave behind. It might come in handy. I grabbed the gun, its holster, and a few boxes of extra shells. I’d figure out how to carry it later. While I was rooting around in the piles of gear, I also found a small knife for Claire to carry.

Claire also added another weapon: an aluminum baseball bat. I wasn’t a fan of baseball bats as zombie-stoppers because you have to get pretty close, and it took some force to score a kill shot. However, if it made Claire feel a little better, I’d support her decision. Sometimes just having something lethal in your hand gives you a better chance of when you face these monsters. Makes you strong.

After we outfitted ourselves with our new equipment, we stood in front of a mirror admiring ourselves. “Wow,” Claire said as she put the bat on her shoulder. “Do we look like a couple of zombie-killing bad asses or what?”

I loaded a few shells into my new shotgun. “Yeah, nobody better mess with us,” I answered.

With all of our shopping complete, it was time to check out the rest of the strip mall. The plan was first to find the exercise studio and see if the water was still working. We might get lucky and be able to take a shower.

“I am going to open the door and take a quick look,” I said, as I pulled out my handgun.

“I’m ready. Man, I hope the showers work. I really would like a bath.”

“You and me both, sister.” I moved our improvised barricade out of the way, opened the lock, and slid the doors open a little bit. I crouched down to take a look. I knew immediately that Claire and I had a small problem as soon as I looked outside.

The lot was full of undead. I just found out the reason why nobody stayed here. The store was a zombie magnet.

I was crestfallen. I was really looking forward to a shower.

The undead were all over the parking lot. From my vantage point at the doors, I could make out about a dozen or so zombies of all kinds shambling around the lot looking for fresh meat. Claire and I were in some serious shit.

I quickly slid the doors closed and looked at Claire. “What’s the matter? Aren’t we going to go outside?”

“We have a problem. Take a look.” I moved aside to give her room at the door.

“What are we going to do?” She crouched down to hide from our new undead visitors.

I joined her on the floor. What were we going to do? According to the quick look out the door, the zombies had us outnumbered pretty badly. Lord only knows how many were walking around out there in the lot. Large groups of these things were bad news. When you get a few zombies together, they often act like one organism. You can try and shoot yourself out of the situation, but eventually you run out of ammunition and then the group descends on you and you’re done. Unfortunately, I had seen it all before. A hell of a lot of survivors didn’t make it through when they were faced with swarms of undead.

“We’ll try and get out the back way,” I said to Claire.

“I’m right behind you.”

We grabbed our stuff and quickly moved to the back room. Plan A was to leave the store by way of one of the back doors. If we got lucky, maybe the zombies hadn’t made it to the back lot of Mollie’s Place, and Claire and I could slip out.

Plan A was shelved as soon as we arrived at the dock door. I heard the telltale noises of zombies on the other side of the door. We would be zombie chow if we tried to leave by the dock. I ran into the office, and contemplated the exit door to the outside. I listened at the door for signs of zombies on the other side. My heart sank as I heard all the telltale sounds: moaning, growling, and nails scratching on the door. We ran to a few fire exit doors. They all had the same terrible sound of nightmare zombie swarms. Claire and I were trapped.

“What are we going to do? How do we get out of here,” she said, looking a little pale.

The front door was our only hope. We needed a diversion. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. Without saying a word, I bolted to the alcoholic drink aisle of the store, and started looking for some hard liquor in a glass container.

“You want a drink now? I don’t think this is time for a drink, John,” Claire said, trailing after me.

“No, I’m going to make some firebombs, if I can find something that will burn.”

“Now you’re talking! We’re going to burn the suckers up,” Claire said, with a devilish gleam in her eye.

“Well, actually, I was thinking of using it as a diversion. I’ll throw one or two of them away from the door. It should draw some of them off, and then we can make a run for it.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “I guess that will work, too.”

I eventually found something that might work. On one of the low shelves near the boutique wines was something called “Mollie’s Brand Scotch” in glass containers. I opened one of the bottles and took a quick whiff. It wasn’t exactly the good stuff, but it just might burn. I grabbed three bottles off the shelf, put them on the floor, and removed the tops. I found a discarded rag, tore it into strips, and shoved the strips into the neck of two of the bottles, after soaking them with scotch from the third bottle. I now had two-quick-and-dirty Molotov cocktails at my disposal.

“Time to go,” I said to Claire. She nodded, and we trotted to the front door.

We got to the door and hunkered down. “All right, here’s the plan. We are going to step outside as quietly as we can, so we don’t attract attention. Before they see us, and attempt to tear us apart, I’ll throw one of the scotch bombs as far as I can. Hopefully, this will draw some of them away from the door. When we get a clear path, we’ll run like hell for the road. If the first bomb doesn’t work, I’ll throw the second one. Understand?” I tried like hell to keep my voice from wavering. This was the most scared I had been in a long time.

“I understand, John. Just tell me when to run.” Claire was shaking a little bit.

I took her hand. “It’ll be okay. When I tell you to go, you run. Don’t look back, just run. Just swing that bat at anything that gets in your way. Get ready. I am going to open the door now.”

I carefully slid open the sliding doors as quietly as I could. I took a quick look. The zombies hadn’t made it to the door yet; they were still walking around the lot. We quickly exited the store, climbed over the front door barricade, and took cover behind a nearby wrecked car so could get a look at our adversaries. There were about two dozen or so undead cruising around the lot that I could see, but there could have been more. It was a mixed group of Yellow- Eyes in various states of decay. There were undead firefighters and policemen in full uniform, a couple of Mollie’s Place employees, and a few civilians. There was even a fitness instructor from the exercise studio. A few little undead kids filled out the motley collection of walking corpses. They all bore the scars of horrible deaths. Some were missing limbs or other parts of their bodies. Others were missing eyes or had bones or skulls exposed. As usual, they were making the terrible sounds that zombies make, a horrible moan that seemed to block out all other sounds in the area. The group was mostly shambling around the lot slowly, but a few looked mobile and able to give a good chase. This was not going to be easy.

They hadn’t noticed us yet. “Okay,” I whispered to Claire. “I am going to light one and throw it and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, I’ll throw the second one, and try to draw some of them away to make a path. You focus on the road. When I tap you on the head, you run. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said, getting her bat ready.

I pulled out my lighter, and lit the alcohol-soaked fuse on the first bomb. The cloth immediately caught fire and burned with a bright but smoky flame. I shot a quick look at the undead in the parking lot. As I watched, several began to lift their heads to sniff the air to catch a scent. Soon they would be on to us.

I threw the burning bottle as far as I could away from the door. The throw was good, but not great. It was a high, arcing throw towards a group of wrecked cars. Several of the nearby zombies lifted their heads to follow the flaming projectile as it flew overhead. It bounced off a car, and the liquor burst into flame on contact. I waited a moment to see if my plan was going to work.

Some of the zombies turned and started to walk towards the impact. The plan was working, but a few of the undead had not taken the bait. They were still walking around the lot, sniffing the air looking for a meal. I was going to have to throw the second bomb.

I lit the cloth fuse on the second glass bottle, and heaved it in the general direction of the first one. This throw was a little better. It was farther away, and the impact was more dramatic, resulting in a sizable fire. The zombies began to move towards the explosions to investigate. A path to freedom began to develop. My hastily thrown-together plan was working.

I leaned down, and hovered my hand over Claire’s head. We just had to wait for a few of the slower zombies to move out of our way. Slowly, very slowly they were moving away from our hiding place. Wait for it … Wait for it … Almost there … I was getting ready to tap Claire on the head to send her on her way.

I never got the chance. Youthful enthusiasm or adrenaline got the better of her and she took off from our hiding place like a frightened gazelle before the path was totally clear.

“Claire, wait!” I shouted. It was too late. Thanks to her young legs, she was flying towards the road.

I pulled my handgun, said a quick prayer, and ran after her.

She was about ten to fifteen feet in front of me, swinging her bat like a crazed baseball player. We were running through a group of stragglers from the main group. There were zombies all around us as we ran. At first, they didn’t even notice that we were running through. They just stood there with blank expressions and didn’t try to attack us.

It didn’t last long. Soon the zombies snapped out of it and began to close in as we ran.

The battle for our survival had begun.

I shot from the hip at close range at anything that resembled something undead. Zombies began to fall on my right and left as I pushed through the group. My old knees began to protest and my lungs began to burn, but I pressed on trying to catch up to Claire.

Claire was actually doing pretty good. The aluminum bat she had taken from Mollie’s was coming in handy. She was scoring hits and knocking the hell out of everything that got in her way. The bat was magic in her hands. Claire used overhead smashes, underhand blows, and straight-on-baseball style swings to carve through the crowd of zombies on her way to freedom. Being short of stature, she sometimes couldn’t score a shot to the head, but would often incapacitate her adversary with a blow to the knees. It was very impressive.

She turned around to see how I was doing. “John! Come on! Move your ass old man!”

I was doing the best that I could. A zombie-policeman appeared in my path and made a grab for my arm. I shot him at close range in the face. At the same time, a little girl zombie leaped out from behind a car. She went down when I put one between her eyes. My magazine empty, I stowed the gun and pulled my new little friend the shotgun. It was a satisfying weapon. It made larger holes, and stopped everything I hit in its tracks. I knew the shotgun would come in handy.

We were almost to the road. The zombies began to thin out and we looked to be home free. Claire was almost to the decorative bushes that surrounded the parking lot. She was slowing and I began to catch up. She turned around to see where I was, ran into something coming out of the bushes, and fell right down on her butt.

It was a giant zombie.

I swear to God, the corpse she collided with must have been seven feet tall by about six feet wide. Claire ran right into him and fell to the ground. The giant staggered a bit, recovered, and then screeched with zombie joy as he reached down to grab Claire and make a meal out of her. She attempted to get up and run, but kept getting tangled with the zombie’s huge legs. The look on her face was pure terror.

“Claire, stay down!” I yelled, as I closed to shotgun range. I aimed at the undead giant and pulled the trigger on my new beautiful black friend. The huge zombie caught the blast in his billboard- sized chest, and fell to the ground. Claire stood up, and with her usual war cry, drove the sweet spot of her bat into the giant’s skull.

“Holy hell Claire!” I grabbed her shoulder to make sure she was okay.

Claire raised her head and looked me in the eyes. She was breathing hard and had little spatters of zombie blood on her face. She had a strange look in her eyes; it almost looked like she was enjoying our escape.

“Did you see, John? Did you see how I smoked those undead bastards?” She sounded like a child looking for approval from a parent.

“I saw it. You did real good.” I gave her a quick hug.

We would have to continue the celebration at a later time. We still weren’t out of the woods quite yet. A few zombies stumbled out of the bushes and came toward us. Thank God they were smaller than the zombiezilla Claire and I had just dispatched. I holstered the shotgun and got my semi-automatic rifle off my shoulder. Time to plow the road.

I took the lead, and Claire fell in behind me with her bat. I picked off the zombies in front of us, and we began to run again towards the road. Two more went down as we passed through the bushes and got to the road. We were almost free.

We made it to the road, and began to run faster. We could taste freedom. A few undead were walking towards us, but behind them was clear sailing. If Claire and I could take care of these few, we could make a run for it down the road.

I took a quick look to see what we were facing. It was a mixed group of five Yellow-Eyes, and they looked pretty fresh. They were trotting down the road toward us at a pretty good clip. It looked like three adults and two children. Almost looked like a family.

I let the shots fly, and the zombies began to fall. I took the adults out first, followed by one of the kids. The other child was a little smaller, so my shot missed. The little zombie began to run towards us screaming, and foaming at the mouth. Claire took off at full speed to meet the undead child. When she was close enough, she swung her bat and caved in the little bastard’s skull. I followed with a bullet to make sure it stayed down.

After that, we ran. We ran until we could no longer hear the moans of the undead in the Mollie’s Place parking lot. We ran until our legs began to feel like rubber and our bodies were starved for oxygen. We ran until we could no longer run.

When we finally felt safe, we stopped running and rested under a large tree. I leaned against it and Claire stood with her hands on her knees. No words were spoken as we waited for our hearts to stop hammering in our chests and our breathing to return to normal. We just looked at each other.

Suddenly, Claire began to laugh.

She sank to her knees, covered her face, and began to laugh. I don’t know. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the intensity of our escape. I kneeled beside her, and we put our arms around each other. We stayed like that for a while; two exhausted survivors crouching and holding each other in the gutter.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing, I finally found my voice. “We did it.”

She looked me in the eyes. “Yeah, we did it. That was intense.”

I stood up to assess the situation. I looked down the road, and saw nothing chasing us. We were safe for now. I opened my backpack and gave Claire a bottle of water.

She took the water, and drank a few swallows. “Thanks.”

“You okay? You were laughing again.”

“I know. Weird isn’t it? I guess I laugh sometimes during stress. I once got a case of the giggles during my Grandmother’s funeral.”

I pointed back towards Mollie’s Place. “Is that the first time you faced a swarm?”

“Yeah. Some of them looked so … so …human. It was the last one you know the kid that got to me. I don’t think I ever killed a kid version before,” she said, looking down at the ground. “Does it get any easier? You know, killing them?”