Sometimes We Ran (Book 2): Community by Stephen Drivick Read Free Book Online Page A

haven. He was trying to recruit me for a suicide war against the zombies, and get Claire raped. We had to find a way out of here. Now.
    Not caring if a camera was watching me or not, I quickly walked over to the storage locker on the wall. I found my backpack and began to search the bottom for the little flap of fabric that contained my emergency knife. At first, I couldn’t find it.
Bastards must have found it. Dammit!
Then my probing fingers found my little secret friend. I ripped open the little pocket and brought it into the light. The carbon-fiber handle glinted in the soft light of the room. I flicked it open and tested the blade. Very sharp. Many nights of working the blade on my stone had honed it into a deadly weapon.
    I palmed the knife and lay down on the bed. I stayed awake and waited. When the time came, I would get Claire and find a way out of this nuthouse.
    All I needed was someone to show me the exit. The next person to come in the room would be the one to help me find it. They won’t have a choice. They’ll have a knife at their throat.

Chapter 6
Escape from Double-Six
    I lay in the dark, turning my little folded knife over and over in my hand. I was waiting. Waiting for a volunteer to show me the way out of this madhouse. I stayed awake, hardly blinking, listening for the beep of the locked door to signal me that someone had come in the room. At the beep, I would leap out of bed and put the knife at their neck. Then, I’d spring Claire and get the hell out of here.
    That was Plan A.
    After a few hours of straining to hear the beep, it finally happened. The door opened and someone stepped inside.
Here we go.
I pretended to sleep as my unknown visitor strolled around the room in a sneaky fashion. I held my breath as they started walking over to the bed. They came near and peered down at me. Like a coiled spring releasing its energy, I jumped out of bed and forced the dark shadow in front of me to the ground. In one swift move, I opened the knife and put the blade to its neck.
    “Jesus Christ! Where the hell did you get a knife?” It was Odegard. His glasses were askew on his face.
    “Good,” I said, pressing the knife a little bit more into his neck. “The other maniac. I hoped it would be you. Congratulations. You’ve volunteered to show me and Claire the way out of this asylum.”
    I pulled him up from the floor roughly and deposited him into the nearest chair. He was white as the clean sheets on the bed. “Put the knife down. That’s why I’m here. I’m going to help you.”
    I pulled the blade away from his neck. “Help me? You and your General buddy are trying to get Claire and me killed.”
    Odegard rubbed his throat. “I know. I’m here to get you and your friend out of here. You need to let me explain.”
    Despite my better judgment, I put the knife away. “Okay. Start explaining.”
    Odegard fixed his glasses. “Okay. First of all, Wallace isn’t a real general. He was a civilian attached to the army for logistics. Disaster management. He was brought in and attached to the Southeastern Command after the shit hit the fan with the reanimates. At first, it was considered a local emergency. All he had to do was go to Atlanta, set up a few survival camps, run evacuations, and advise the army. That was all.”
    So far it made sense, if anything in this world made sense anymore. “Go on.”
    Odegard reached for a bottle of water on the table. “You mind?” I waved, and he opened the bottle and took a long drink. “Well, Atlanta fell to the undead. We all had to evacuate. We retreated to the north, but were swarmed by Chattanooga’s problems. East was no good… too many reanimates that way as well. Then, the orders stopped coming.” He looked down. “It was every man for himself.”
    I remembered those awful times. Swarms of zombies left the major cities, and crisscrossed the countryside, eating anything with a pulse. Add in crowds of refugees and a military on the run, and it was