literally. That’s the way the Whites liked to run, at least when they weren’t crazy for fresh blood.
“This the right way?” He asked.
“Yup.”
“Good. I kinda lost my bearings.”
“It’s cool. I know where we are.” We ran among dozens of cars scattered in a parking lot, and I pointed ahead. “See between those buildings over there, you can see the corner of that sand-colored one? That one’s attached by a walkway to the Pharmacy building we got Fritz from.”
“They’re all sand-colored,” said Murphy.
“Just follow me.”
We crossed a road and ran into a field as hundreds and hundreds of Whites poured out from between the widely spaced buildings in front of us. They were the ones who’d been lingering around the veterinary science building and the outposts. I veered toward a collection of maintenance buildings so we wouldn’t find ourselves running right through them. I didn’t want their follow-the-leader wiring to make them turn around and follow us. They needed to keep running to their deaths, toward the helicopter’s waiting machine guns.
We came to a stop against a wall near the corner of a building with a view into the maintenance yard. Along one side stood a rusty, tin hangar-like building with covered bays along one side and open doors facing the yard. Mounds of dirt, tractors, cars, and other such things seemed spread in no organized way.
The machine guns started to blaze, ripping through hundreds of rounds as the sound of White screams rolled over us.
I pointed catty-corner across the yard. “If we cut through there, we’ll come out across the street from one of the outposts.”
“And you just want to walk right up to the place looking like the naked Whites who attacked them?”
“I doubt they’ll shoot.”
“Really Sherlock?” Murphy stepped along the wall and took a peek around the corner of the building. “What makes you think that?”
“All the shooters are dead. Any smart enough to stay quiet are still alive.”
“Or they’re all just dead,” Murphy argued.
“Which side of this debate do you want? You can’t just be contrary to whatever I say.”
“I think I can.” Murphy glanced at me. “You ready?”
I nodded.
He ran to a corner of the rusty tin building and looked down the length of the far wall.
Coming up close behind him, I asked, “Anything?”
“Nothing near.”
Murphy jogged across the yard, looking left and looking right. We passed through a narrow gap between two maintenance buildings sitting perpendicular to one another. I followed Murphy through a thick stand of oaks and we came to a stop by a tree trunk thick enough to keep us both hidden from view. An intersection lay in front of us. Across the intersection and surrounding parking lots stood the veterinary science buildings. The first floor of one was fortified with boarded windows and doors, and plenty of two-by-four bracing. In several places Whites were climbing in and out past boards they’d ripped away from the walls.
“You seeing this?” asked Murphy.
“The Whites in the veterinary science building?”
“Yeah.” Murphy looked around, as did I. “I don’t have much hope for the vaccination those guys were working on.”
“Maybe they barricaded inside somewhere. Like a safe room or something.”
Murphy turned and looked at me. “Optimism? From you?”
I don’t know why, but Murphy’s snarky remark felt like an attack. So, I deflected. “At least, I’m not ‘tired.’“
“What?”
“Back there, after we got out of the helicopter. You said you were tired.”
Murphy went back to scanning the street. “Still lots of Whites out there. We should wait before we cross.”
“What did you mean?”
“I should have kept my underwear.” Murphy leaned against the tree to rest. “My balls are cold.”
“They’ll go numb.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“I’m sure you can
“This the right way?” He asked.
“Yup.”
“Good. I kinda lost my bearings.”
“It’s cool. I know where we are.” We ran among dozens of cars scattered in a parking lot, and I pointed ahead. “See between those buildings over there, you can see the corner of that sand-colored one? That one’s attached by a walkway to the Pharmacy building we got Fritz from.”
“They’re all sand-colored,” said Murphy.
“Just follow me.”
We crossed a road and ran into a field as hundreds and hundreds of Whites poured out from between the widely spaced buildings in front of us. They were the ones who’d been lingering around the veterinary science building and the outposts. I veered toward a collection of maintenance buildings so we wouldn’t find ourselves running right through them. I didn’t want their follow-the-leader wiring to make them turn around and follow us. They needed to keep running to their deaths, toward the helicopter’s waiting machine guns.
We came to a stop against a wall near the corner of a building with a view into the maintenance yard. Along one side stood a rusty, tin hangar-like building with covered bays along one side and open doors facing the yard. Mounds of dirt, tractors, cars, and other such things seemed spread in no organized way.
The machine guns started to blaze, ripping through hundreds of rounds as the sound of White screams rolled over us.
I pointed catty-corner across the yard. “If we cut through there, we’ll come out across the street from one of the outposts.”
“And you just want to walk right up to the place looking like the naked Whites who attacked them?”
“I doubt they’ll shoot.”
“Really Sherlock?” Murphy stepped along the wall and took a peek around the corner of the building. “What makes you think that?”
“All the shooters are dead. Any smart enough to stay quiet are still alive.”
“Or they’re all just dead,” Murphy argued.
“Which side of this debate do you want? You can’t just be contrary to whatever I say.”
“I think I can.” Murphy glanced at me. “You ready?”
I nodded.
He ran to a corner of the rusty tin building and looked down the length of the far wall.
Coming up close behind him, I asked, “Anything?”
“Nothing near.”
Murphy jogged across the yard, looking left and looking right. We passed through a narrow gap between two maintenance buildings sitting perpendicular to one another. I followed Murphy through a thick stand of oaks and we came to a stop by a tree trunk thick enough to keep us both hidden from view. An intersection lay in front of us. Across the intersection and surrounding parking lots stood the veterinary science buildings. The first floor of one was fortified with boarded windows and doors, and plenty of two-by-four bracing. In several places Whites were climbing in and out past boards they’d ripped away from the walls.
“You seeing this?” asked Murphy.
“The Whites in the veterinary science building?”
“Yeah.” Murphy looked around, as did I. “I don’t have much hope for the vaccination those guys were working on.”
“Maybe they barricaded inside somewhere. Like a safe room or something.”
Murphy turned and looked at me. “Optimism? From you?”
I don’t know why, but Murphy’s snarky remark felt like an attack. So, I deflected. “At least, I’m not ‘tired.’“
“What?”
“Back there, after we got out of the helicopter. You said you were tired.”
Murphy went back to scanning the street. “Still lots of Whites out there. We should wait before we cross.”
“What did you mean?”
“I should have kept my underwear.” Murphy leaned against the tree to rest. “My balls are cold.”
“They’ll go numb.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“I’m sure you can
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