Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue by Stephen Drivick

need it,” I said.
    “Thanks,” Robert said. “I owe you.”
    “You can pay me back by not starving to death.”
    I watched Robert and Floyd unload the corn and canned goods from our van. Claire tapped me on the shoulder with the bat. “You're giving them our extra food without getting anything in trade. Michael's going to be pissed.”
    “I know. Pine Grove might be in trouble. Wouldn't be right to watch them starve to death. Michael will just have to live with it,” I said. “We're all in this together, I guess. We have to look out for each other.”
    Claire tilted her head and looked at me funny. “You know, I think you're mellowing in your old age.”
    Our business concluded, we slammed the doors on our vans and prepared to leave. Robert got a strange look in his eye. “Thank you for the food. I don't know when we'll be able to meet again.”
    “Don't mention it. If you guys need any help-,” I stopped in mid-sentence. A familiar scent filled my nostrils. It was the scent of death. Something awful had found us, and it was nearby.
    Robert and Floyd smelled it as well. We flattened ourselves against the rear door of the van and waited. The smell was coming from the front of the vehicles. I peeked out from our hiding place and checked out the situation. Two young Red-Eyes were standing at the van's grill, sniffing the air. The cold was causing them some problems locating us. They hadn't found us yet, but it was only a matter of time.
    “How many?” Robert whispered.
    I held up two fingers. “At the front,” I answered.
    “Let's get the hell out of here,” Robert said. “Every man for himself?” He stretched out his hand for a goodbye and good luck handshake.
    “Yeah.” I grasped his hand and gave it a strong shake. “Good luck.”
    “You, too. Get back to Cannon Fields safe.”
    Robert and Floyd disappeared into their van. They had a pass-through to the seats up front. Monique was different. Our van had a solid wall between the cargo and the cab, and we would have to get in through the doors. I went back to the edge to keep tabs on our dead friends. They had moved to the driver's door. One was pressing its nose to the door handle to catch a scent. They were connecting the dots, and soon Claire and I would be in trouble. I pulled my gun, and turned to Claire. “Is your door locked?”
    Claire thought for a second. “Yeah...I think so.”
    “You come with me then. I'll shove you in through the driver's side. Okay?”
    She nodded. “Take them out with the gun. I'll clean up any misses.”
    We took a few deep breaths, then burst out of our hiding place ready for battle. The Red-Eyes, momentarily surprised by our sudden appearance, recovered and charged at me. The nearest one, a short blonde female, came at me hissing and growling like some kind of mutant wild animal.
    I raised my gun and fired. The bullet caught her in the forehead, and she fell to the ground in mid-stride. Her companion flew at me in a rage with teeth bared and tongue hanging out in anticipation of a tasty meal. I aimed quickly and fired two shots. I got him in the shoulder and chest. Dark, black blood sprayed out behind him, and he stumbled The Red-Eye was hurt, but not dead. He immediately rolled over, and staggered to his feet.
    Claire leapt into action. A swing from her trusty bat rang off the soft, decaying skull of the zombie. When he crumpled to the ground, Claire switched to overhead smashes to vanquish the undead monster at her feet. Menacing growls turned to whimpers as she rained blows on his head. After a few swings, the Red-Eye went silent. I stood in awe at the savagery of Claire's attack.
    “Nice,” I said, admiring her work. “Let's go.” I grabbed Claire, and pushed her towards the front of the van. We had to hurry before more dead showed up.
    Claire and I reached the driver's door. I opened it, and shoved her inside. After she settled into her seat, I holstered my gun and got the keys ready. As I prepared to