13
“Run. Just run. Don’t stop,
just keep running.”
Alan told himself. He ran as best as he could while carrying Kendra,
who was still in pain from her fall. At that moment, Alan had no clue what to
do or where to go. He could only outrun the horde for so long, and he knew of
nowhere in walking distance where he would be safe. He was out of ideas.
Kendra was still fully conscious, but in terrible pain.
She didn’t have any desire to walk anywhere, and was actually glad that Alan
had decided to carry her, even though it would endanger them in the long run.
Kendra didn’t have any ideas either, and truthfully, in her heart, she wasn’t
sure they’d last to the next day. It was still relatively early, and they would
have a long way to go before they would be even remotely safe.
After about 10 minutes of fleeing the library, Alan
slowed and turned around. He didn’t see any of the Dead Ones directly following,
but he knew they’d be on their heels before long. Malcolm was sure to follow as
well, if he was still alive. Alan didn’t know why, but he knew that Malcolm
seemed almost bent on killing the both of them. Alan was sure they needed an
escape, and they needed it now.
Looking down to Kendra’s face, Alan spoke. “Are you
doing alright?”
“It hurts, but I should be ok.” Kendra replied. “Do
you have a place for us to go?”
“I’ve been racking my brain with no real luck. I
don’t really know where to go.” He replied. “I’m guessing you don’t have any
ideas?”
“Not really.” Kendra said. “I thought of one thing
but I don’t think it will be of any use.” The pain in her voice was evident.
“Anything is better than nothing.” Alan reminded
her. “What were you thinking of?”
“Well, you know how people sometimes tend to stick
together in situations like this? Like how people make communities all on their
own?”
“Of course.”
“Well I’ve heard rumors of a place like that, within
this very city. I don’t know much about it, or even it’s exact location. I just
know I had heard other survivors saying that that’s where they were heading
to.”
“A community of survivors? Did they give any remote
indication as to where it might be located?”
“Somewhere closer to the east end. Sounded like
maybe it was in a tower or something.” Kendra said.
Alan pondered that single clue: a tower, or
something similar, closer to the east end of Louisville. Alan knew it was a
long shot, but he had an idea. He immediately picked up the pace again, looking
for some way to get transportation to the place he’d thought of.
“You have an idea, don’t you?” Kendra asked Alan.
“Oh yes…” He said, his breathing strained by the
running. “I think I have a very good clue were they might be.”
“So we’re gonna run there?” Kendra asked with a very
skeptical look.
“No. We need transportation.”
Alan carried Kendra as he jogged down the street. If
his memory served correctly, there was a construction site at the intersection,
with all the equipment sitting there ever since the X7 entered the world. As he
reached the abandoned construction site, he found that there were a couple of
construction vehicles. One of the vehicles was a type of bulldozer, and the
cabin on it looked just big enough to hold both Kendra and himself. Using the
last of his energy, he ran to the bulldozer, and lifted Kendra up into the
cabin. Alan then struggled up into the cabin and prayed that the keys were
still in the ignition.
They weren’t.
Alan’s heart sank when he saw the absence of the
keys. Now he’d have to hotwire the vehicle. He kicked open the panel that
guarded the wires and went to work. Kendra felt useless. She was able to sit
up, but her arms were useless in their current state, and she had no real way
of helping Alan. He just kept working, trying to hotwire the vehicle, while
Kendra looked on, seeing just what kind of progress the horde had made.
The Dead Ones were shambling up the street, still a
distance away, but too close for comfort. Malcolm Graves was still nowhere to
be seen. Kendra silently hoped that Malcolm had really been killed, but she
also knew that she wasn’t that lucky. Even without Malcolm, the horde was a
major threat. The only thought in her head was the one telling Alan to hurry up
and hotwire the bulldozer.
What seemed like a frantic eternity of fiddling with
wires in fact only took a few minutes. Alan finally got the bulldozer fired up,
and taking control of it, drove it off the construction site and down the
street. Alan was glad that they were finally mobile, but the bulldozer was unbearably
slow. Alan wasn’t even sure how well it could outrun the Dead Ones. If they had
enough Dead Ones surround them, they could be in deep trouble. Alan tried to
put it out of his mind, and focused on driving the bulldozer.
The driver was slow, and even after an hour, it
seemed like they were no closer than when they began. Kendra was trying to
relax, letting the pain wash over her the best she could. Alan drove, observing
his surroundings all the while, making sure no Dead Ones snuck up on him. The horde
still followed, though more at a distance. Their numbers were lessened, but
they still followed. Alan just kept driving.
“You ok?” Alan asked Kendra
“Hmm? I’m all right. As good as can be expected.”
Kendra replied, half-delirious.
“We need to get you fixed up.” Alan said, still
focused on his driving.
“Lets see if we can find this community first. They
could probably fix me up well enough.” She replied.
“Here’s hoping.”
After driving on even further, Alan spotted his
goal. It was a tower just off the freeway that used to have a steakhouse on the
top floor. Now that he thought about it, it would be a good place to make a
settlement in this kind of environment. He expected that it would be defended
and fortified. He pushed the bulldozer as hard as he could, trying to get there
as fast as humanly possible.
Time continued to pass and Kendra was dozing off.
Alan was getting close to the tower. Some of the zombies were still following
and to make matters worse, there were now some in the path of the vehicle. Alan
had little choice but to push forward. He lowered the dozer blade close to the
ground and prepared to ram the Dead Ones.
The dozer blade hit the small group with enough
force to split some of the bodies in two. Their heads survived, and their
brains remained intact, but at least their mobility was severely damaged. The
jolt from hitting the zombies shocked Kendra out of her drowsy state.
“The Hell was that?” Kendra shouted.
“Me. Running over Dead Ones.” He replied without a
second thought.
“Whoa… nice!” She replied, impressed with his zombie
killing techniques.
The bulldozer rolled up to the tower, and bursts of
gunfire erupted from various points on the tower, aimed down at the Dead Ones
chasing the bulldozer. The walking corpses began to fall and some of their
heads exploded under the hail of gunfire. Alan kept the bulldozer moving
towards the tower as the bodies hit the concrete, permanently dead.
The bulldozer shut off as a voice came from the
tower. “Are you infected?”
“No, we’re clean!” Alan yelled back. “My companion
needs medical attention, she is injured!”
There was a short pause. “Let them through.” The
voice finally said.
The door of the tower opened up and two guards
stepped out, ready to escort Alan and Kendra in. Alan carried Kendra through the
door, and prepared to take her to whoever was in charge of this little
tower-town.
“You know I can walk, right?” Kendra said as they
went inside.
“I know. I’m just being a gentleman.” He replied.
Kendra reached her head up and gave Alan a kiss.
“You’re so good to me.” She said, cracking a smile
that she felt she hadn’t worn in far too long.
14
Alan stood in the elevator as he held Kendra. The
elevator was clunky and seemed unstable, but it was the only way to get where
they needed to go. If they’d kept it running day after day, he supposed it
would work for the moment. After a few moments, the elevator groaned to a halt
and the door opened, revealing the leader of the tower community.
“Welcome, visitor.” The leader spoke as Alan exited
the elevator with Kendra. “Welcome to Refuge.”
“Refuge?” Alan asked, slightly confused.
“The name of our community. We named it Refuge,
because that’s precisely what it is. It is a refuge from the outside world… the
world of the dead.” The leader of the community explained.
Alan nodded. “I’m Alan, and this is Kendra.” He
said, motioning to the body in his arms.
“I am Robert.” The man replied. “Robert Vaughan,
governor of Refuge.”
Robert Vaughan was a big man with dark skin. He
could look both menacing and friendly in the same instance, and fill a person
with both dread and comfort. His voice was deep, yet soft, filled with wisdom
and power. The populace of Refuge did not fear him; they respected him.
“What can I do for you, Alan?” Robert asked.
“My friend needs some medical attention. We’re
running out of places to go. The Dead Ones are everywhere.” Alan replied.
“We will attend to your friend.” Robert said,
signaling one of his assistants to take Kendra to the medical bay. “You make
stay here with us. We will see to it that you get a room.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vaughan.” Alan said, handing Kendra
to Vaughan’s assistant.
“I do have business to attend to. Is there anything
else before I go?” Robert asked.
“Just one thing, come to think of it.” Alan spoke.
“I need information on someone. Any way you could help me?”
“We have a makeshift library, compiled from the
knowledge of all of our residents. I would check there.” Robert replied. “Check
floor 10, they may be able to help.”
“Thank you.” Alan said, turning back to the elevator.
“Your friend will be on the 7
th
floor, in
the medical bay. She should be patched up in a few hours.” Robert added as Alan
stepped on to the elevator.
Alan nodded silently as the door closed. He pressed
the button labeled with the number 10, and prayed that this impromptu library
would have something useful. He needed info on Malcolm Graves, and he needed it
now.
The elevator shuddered as it descended to the 10
th
floor. The door creaked open and Alan stepped out into the library of Refuge.
This library was unique, as there were no books of any kind. There was a small
number of computers and not much else. At a battered old metal desk, a single
person sat. She was slightly older, around the middle of her natural lifespan.
Alan could only guess that she ran this so-called library. Alan thought that it
seemed like as good of a place as any to begin his search for information.
Alan strode over to the desk, and spoke to the only
other person in the room. “Excuse me, would you mind helping me with
something?”
The woman looked up from the pad of paper she’d been
writing on. “Yes, of course. What can I help you with?”
“I need some information on a person. Would it be
possible to search on these computers?” Alan asked the woman.
“Of course.” She said, somewhat delightfully. She
rose from her desk and walked over to the computers, with Alan following her.
Sitting down at the computer, she spoke again. “Who
is it you are looking for?”
“A man by the name of Malcolm Graves.” He said.
The woman paused, as if the name was familiar to
her, and then continued searching the database for him. “There isn’t much, I’m
afraid. This database is compiled from the knowledge of all the residents of
Refuge. We add to it daily, but there are wide gaps in our knowledge. All we
have on Malcolm Graves is a few eyewitness reports of people who had met the
man.
You may be able to talk to
one of the people who met him and see if they know anything.”
Alan scowled, disappointed from the lack of
information. “Where can I find these people?”
“Hmmm.” She studied the screen of the terminal. “One
of them is on floor 8. The name is Luke Jones. The other is on floor 13. Their
name is Helena West.” The woman wrote down the names and locations of each
person, and handed it to Alan.
“Thank you for your time.” Alan said, pocketing the
paper as he headed to the elevator.
Alan stepped through the old elevator door and
decided to try floor 8 first, as it was closer. Truth be told, he hated that
elevator. He was always convinced that it was going to break every time it
moved. He pressed the button marked ‘8’ and waited as calmly as he could for
the elevator to finish it’s trip.
Alan stepped off the elevator on the 8
th
floor. This floor seemed to consist of residential areas. He studied the piece
of paper he’d pulled from his pocket and searched for the room of Luke Jones,
one of the people who had met Malcolm Graves. Alan hoped that Luke could tell
him something more about Malcolm.
Finding the door, he silently went over what he was
going to say to Luke. He knocked on the door and heard a person moving on the
other side of the door. Alan had hope that the answers he sought were just on
the other side of this door.
The door cracked open slightly, clearly restricted
with a chain lock. A face appeared in the crack between the door and the frame.
The Caucasian male on the other side of the door then spoke. “What do you
want?” His tone seemed slightly irritated.
“My name is Alan. I wanted to ask you about Malcolm
Graves.” Alan answered.
Luke’s eyes widened at that sound of that name.
Without a word, the door shut and the chain on the other side was undone. Then
the door swung open fully and there Luke Jones stood, ushering Alan inside.
Closing the door, Luke spoke to Alan.
“Why do you ask about that man?” Luke queried.
“I’ve had several run-ins with him. I want to know
more about him. He may yet be dead, but I have no way to verify it.” Alan
replied.
“Dead, you say?”
“Yes.” Alan said. “I last ran into him in one of the
abandoned libraries in the city. I managed to hit him with a small crossbow
bolt, but I have no way of knowing if he died. All that is beside the point. I
want answers as to who he is and how he controls the Dead Ones.”
“I know what you mean about that last part. When I
ran into him, he exhibited that same control. I don’t know how he does it.”
Luke said.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”
Alan asked desperately.
“Nothing definite.” Luke answered. “I noticed that
he seems foreign, like maybe he wasn’t born in the country.”
Alan pondered that thought silently. He thought back
to when Malcolm spoke to him. The voice definitely had some kind of slight
accent, as if he were trying to conceal it with a native accent.
“Thank you for the information, Luke.” Alan said
gratefully.
Alan readied himself to leave. As he left, Luke
spoke to him once more. “If he is still alive…” He said. “Put a bullet in him.”
Alan nodded, and turned to leave. The information
wasn’t much, but it was something. He thought that perhaps the other person,
this Helena West, might know something more. Alan returned to the elevator, and
rode it up, nervously, to the 13
th
floor.
Working his way to Helena’s room, he desperately
hoped that on this unlucky 13
th
floor, he would find enough luck to
get one step closer to solving the mystery of Malcolm Graves. Alan quickly
found Helena’s door, and knocked on it. He never heard her moving on the other
side of the door, but the door opened nonetheless.
Helena west stood in the doorway, with her fair
blonde hair flowing down passed her shoulders. She was still in her sleep
clothes, which was little more than a t-shirt that was too big, and loose
shorts. Alan looked away slightly, feeling uncomfortable looking at her in her
current wardrobe.
“Helena West?” Alan spoke, avoiding looking at her
directly.
“Yes, that’s me. Who wants to know?” She replied.
“I’m Alan. I had a question for you.” He said, still
avoiding eye contact.
“I have one for you too.” She said. “Why won’t you
look at me?”
“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry.” He began. “I’m just a little
uncomfortable looking at you in that clothing.”
Helena was confused. “It’s not revealing or
anything. What’s the problem?”
“It just feels kinda inappropriate.” Alan explained.
Helena nodded slightly. “I can understand that. You
have that geeky good guy vibe. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to ask you about someone. His name is
Malcolm Graves.” Alan told her.
“Oh… him.” She said with a sour look on her face as
she walked to the room’s closet.
“So I take it you know exactly who I’m talking
about?” Alan asked.
“Yes, I do.” She replied, looking through her closet
for something a little less awkward.
“Can you tell me anything about him?” Alan
continued.
“There isn’t too much to tell, really.” She said,
pulling a t-shirt and jeans from the closet. “He was just a really weird guy.
He kinda weirded me out.”
“How so?” Alan queried.
“Well…” She began, taking her clothes to the
bathroom to change. “I met him one night a few months back. I was out at a
restaurant, eating alone, when I saw him across the dining area.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing at first.” She closed the bathroom door
almost all the way, muffling her voice as she changed clothes. “He just sat
there for awhile. After maybe half an hour, a waiter appeared at my table with
a bottle of wine. He told me that the gentleman across the room ordered it for
me. I looked to where Malcolm sat and he waved at me. I was flattered so I
invited him over.”
“Ok, then what?” Alan asked eagerly.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Helena stepped
out in the jeans and t-shirt. “Is this better?” She asked. Alan nodded before
she continued.
“Malcolm came over to my table and sat down. He was
actually somewhat charming and seemed very nice. I knew he was a bit older than
me and I had no real intentions of anything going past dinner, but I figured I
would at least humor him. As the evening went on, we talked, and he actually
kept me entertained. We ate, drank, and just had a good time. As I readied to
leave, he asked if he could join me. I let him walk me home.”
“I’m guessing that’s where things went south?” Alan
wondered.
“Pretty much.” She continued her story. “The entire
walk home was fine. Malcolm was still kinda charming, and even a little
mysterious, especially about his work. When we reached my home, I thanked him
for the company and proceeded to go inside. He didn’t exactly want to stop
though. He wanted to come in with me, and he kept saying that I was perfect. He
even called me a ‘wonderful specimen’ at one point. I was freaking out, so I
ran inside and slammed the door. Malcolm wouldn’t leave though. He pounded on
the door, tried everything between charm and rage to get inside. I called the
police, and they sent a patrol out, but by the time they arrived, he was gone.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope. Never saw him again.” She replied.
“When did you say this was again?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Maybe 5 months ago.” She
answered.
Alan pondered over what she had told him before
speaking. “Thanks for the information.”
“No problem.” She said. “What’s your interest in him
anyways?”
“Had a couple run-ins with him. I was trying to
figure out more about him. I actually might have killed him, but in case I
didn’t, I thought it would be good to know more about him.” Alan explained.
“Is that all you needed?” She asked him.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Alright.” She said as Alan stood to leave. “See ya
around, Alan.” Helena said.
“See ya.” Alan said as he left the room.
Helena closed the door and smiled. It felt good to
make a friend.