Read Online Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue by Stephen Drivick - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen Drivick
Tags: Zombies, Dystopian, dystopian fiction, walking dead, post apocalypse, Zombie Apocalypse, zombie book, post-apocalyptic fiction, post apocalyptic survival fiction, post apocalyptic books, end of the world fiction, the end of the world as we know it, walking corpse, post apocalyptic novels, post apocalyptic sci fi, end of the world books, zombie apocalypse books
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disappear on his zombie missions, then catch back up when the undead went back into hiding and were no longer a threat. Once in a while, he would give us a wave.
Claire started waving back. “Don't encourage him. We still don't know who he is,” I said.
“Just being nice. Maybe he's not too bad.”
As we got closer to home, abandoned cars and trucks started to clog the road again. Motorcycle Man slowed a little, and weaved in and out of the wrecks. A few times, he avoided a nasty accident by only a few feet. Claire and I winced every time he had a near miss.
“How are we going to explain this guy to our people?” I said. “We can't let him inside.”
Claire took her eyes off the motorcycle going back and forth in front of us. “Maybe he's okay. He did help us.”
We made the turn off the state route for home. Our friend turned right with us, leading the way. I wasn't a fan of leading him right to the front gate. Cannon Fields doesn't have a good track record with strangers. Most of them just cause trouble. I had no idea why he was helping us. Usually, it was every man for himself out in the big, bad world outside the gates. Maybe our helper on the small motorcycle would move on, and leave us alone. We didn't need his help anymore. I pushed our van a little faster. We needed to slip inside, and leave this stranger behind.
Two Red-Eyes stumbled from the weeds, and into the center of the road ahead of us. On cue, our guide gunned the throttle and took off to scare them away. He bounced over the curb, hit the shoulder of the road, and gave chase. Like the other zombies, Motorcycle man's plan worked perfectly. The annoying wail of the bike confused the predators, and they scattered as he approached.
I slowed a bit while our guide did his work. “Neat trick with the noisy motorcycle. We'll have to remember it the next time something jumps us.”
“Yeah. Almost looks like he planned it that way,” Claire said.
The dirt bike bounced and dipped on the rough surface of the shoulder. Motorcycle Man stood up in the saddle of the machine and waved at us. I couldn't help myself, and waved back. Claire joined me. Maybe she was right. He may not be a bad guy after all. I began to wonder if we could trust him as he steered the bike towards the road for the final stretch home.
And that's when his luck ran out.
It must have been something in the center of the road, a piece of junk from one of the cars or maybe a bit of broken concrete. Whatever it was, as he crossed out of the shoulder and back on to the road, he hit something, and bike and rider were sent flying. I jammed on the brakes, sending the van into a little slide as he flew past us in the road.
Our mystery helper stayed with the bike for a while, but gravity won the fight. After the first roll, bike and man separated and went in different directions. Claire and I watched in stunned silence as he rolled several times and slammed into a small sedan at the edge of the road. The bike, throttle stuck wide open, danced and bucked for a few more feet. It smashed into another car near its rider. Plastic and other motorcycle debris flew everywhere. The road went silent.
“Oh, no,” It was all Claire could manage to say. She put her hand to her face to cover her mouth.
It looked bad. Our helper on the motorcycle lay still against the car, as if he were dead. I went into internal debate mode. In better times, I might have stopped to check on him, but these days you have to weigh that decision. The countryside was full of undead monsters that will eat your guts out. Sometimes, it was best to go home. I made my choice, and put the van in drive. I wanted to go home. We couldn't risk being jumped by Red-Eyes on a rescue mission. It was what we had to do.
“What are you doing?” Claire said. “We have to check on him.”
I carefully drove past the prone stranger on the ground, trying not to look. “We can't risk it. There could be a hundred zombies out there waiting
Claire started waving back. “Don't encourage him. We still don't know who he is,” I said.
“Just being nice. Maybe he's not too bad.”
As we got closer to home, abandoned cars and trucks started to clog the road again. Motorcycle Man slowed a little, and weaved in and out of the wrecks. A few times, he avoided a nasty accident by only a few feet. Claire and I winced every time he had a near miss.
“How are we going to explain this guy to our people?” I said. “We can't let him inside.”
Claire took her eyes off the motorcycle going back and forth in front of us. “Maybe he's okay. He did help us.”
We made the turn off the state route for home. Our friend turned right with us, leading the way. I wasn't a fan of leading him right to the front gate. Cannon Fields doesn't have a good track record with strangers. Most of them just cause trouble. I had no idea why he was helping us. Usually, it was every man for himself out in the big, bad world outside the gates. Maybe our helper on the small motorcycle would move on, and leave us alone. We didn't need his help anymore. I pushed our van a little faster. We needed to slip inside, and leave this stranger behind.
Two Red-Eyes stumbled from the weeds, and into the center of the road ahead of us. On cue, our guide gunned the throttle and took off to scare them away. He bounced over the curb, hit the shoulder of the road, and gave chase. Like the other zombies, Motorcycle man's plan worked perfectly. The annoying wail of the bike confused the predators, and they scattered as he approached.
I slowed a bit while our guide did his work. “Neat trick with the noisy motorcycle. We'll have to remember it the next time something jumps us.”
“Yeah. Almost looks like he planned it that way,” Claire said.
The dirt bike bounced and dipped on the rough surface of the shoulder. Motorcycle Man stood up in the saddle of the machine and waved at us. I couldn't help myself, and waved back. Claire joined me. Maybe she was right. He may not be a bad guy after all. I began to wonder if we could trust him as he steered the bike towards the road for the final stretch home.
And that's when his luck ran out.
It must have been something in the center of the road, a piece of junk from one of the cars or maybe a bit of broken concrete. Whatever it was, as he crossed out of the shoulder and back on to the road, he hit something, and bike and rider were sent flying. I jammed on the brakes, sending the van into a little slide as he flew past us in the road.
Our mystery helper stayed with the bike for a while, but gravity won the fight. After the first roll, bike and man separated and went in different directions. Claire and I watched in stunned silence as he rolled several times and slammed into a small sedan at the edge of the road. The bike, throttle stuck wide open, danced and bucked for a few more feet. It smashed into another car near its rider. Plastic and other motorcycle debris flew everywhere. The road went silent.
“Oh, no,” It was all Claire could manage to say. She put her hand to her face to cover her mouth.
It looked bad. Our helper on the motorcycle lay still against the car, as if he were dead. I went into internal debate mode. In better times, I might have stopped to check on him, but these days you have to weigh that decision. The countryside was full of undead monsters that will eat your guts out. Sometimes, it was best to go home. I made my choice, and put the van in drive. I wanted to go home. We couldn't risk being jumped by Red-Eyes on a rescue mission. It was what we had to do.
“What are you doing?” Claire said. “We have to check on him.”
I carefully drove past the prone stranger on the ground, trying not to look. “We can't risk it. There could be a hundred zombies out there waiting
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