Unexpected Rescue
Olivia looked up at me, her brown eyes wide with terror. We'd heard the gunshots ringing from blocks away. Survivors, literally waking the dead. I squeezed her shoulder, a reassuring gesture, before peeking around the box truck. Outside the construction yard's gate, the street was swarming with shambling corpses rooting around for their next meal. We had come to the city for a simple supply run and had been forced into hiding when some dumbass began firing a gun in the heart of the metropolitan city.
"It's going to be okay." I whispered, returning my gaze to her. I had braided Olivia's hair only a few hours ago, but the southern humidity had taken its toll, leaving her with frizzy ends. Yelling from the street grabbed my attention, my muscles tensing as a wave of anxiety washed over me. I put my finger over my lips, signifying Olivia to be quiet, as I pulled the M9 handgun from my belt. She clung to my free arm as I guided her behind me. I could hear the chainlink fence rattling under the weight of bodies climbing it. I could hear the frantic words of desperate men as they grew closer to the truck. My grip tightened around the cool metal of my gun as I prepared myself. I stepped out into view and trained my gun on the man directly in front of me. His brown curls were clipped short and his honest face was shaven clean. He donned a brown sheriff's uniform that I recognized; King County.
"Whoa, hey." He held his hand out as if to show he meant no harm. "Glenn." He called out to the other. The young Asian man struck the key safe with a crowbar, ignoring the call of his friend as he searched for the truck keys. "We need to get out of here." His blue eyes fell to the small form at my side. I shifted defensively.
"Thanks to your friend." I nodded my head in the direction the shots had originated in.
"Rick, we have to go!" Glenn called out, racing towards the truck. He stopped short when his dark eyes found me.
"I am aware." Sheriff Rick nodded, staring down the barrel of my gun. "We've got a bit of a situation here."
"Give me the keys." I instructed.
"That's not going to happen." Rick shook his head. "Our people are in trouble, we need this truck."
"You're people are the problem." My jaw tensed briefly. "I need to get her out of this hellhole and somewhere safe." The men stood silent, staring at me. There was an atmosphere of urgency and discontent. Rick had placed his palm on the but of his revolver. The fence rattled furiously behind them, the dead were making headway fast. I felt the knot in my stomach fermenting and was on the verge of surrender.
"We have a camp." Glenn blurted out. "That's a paramedic uniform, right?" He gestured to the navy blue uniform I wore, observing the medical patchwork on my sleeve and chest. "It's safe. Women, children, food. The works."
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" I asked.
"You don't," Rick spoke up. "But you have a choice to make because we aren't giving you these keys. You either trust us and get in the truck, or you take your chances with the dead." I looked down at Olivia, weighing my options briefly, before lowering my gun. Rick took the keys from Glenn and ran around to the driver's side of the truck, firing off two rounds before climbing inside. Glenn held the door for us as I guided Olivia into the back of the truck. Once both doors were secure Rick wasted no time shifting into gear. He reversed, quickly turning the truck around as the hoard at the fence tore the gate down, driving in the opposite direction. I clutched a loose towing strap attached to the inner wall and held Olivia close with my free hand.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god. They're all over the place." Glenn's panicked voice flooded the cab.
"We need to draw them away." Rick began. "Those roll-up doors in the front of the store, that area, that's what I need cleared." Glenn began to protest, but Rick cut him off. "Radio your friends. Tell them to get down there and be ready."
"How…I'm drawing the geeks away how? I missed that part."
"Noise." Rick stated as if it were a given. I looked into the front seat at Rick, the King County Sheriff's deputy. It wasn't just the uniform I'd recognized, but the man inside.
**Eight Weeks Prior**
The hard material of the gurney clashed with the rough material of my navy blue pants, the fabric pinching my knees. I straddled the unconscious form of the Deputy, my hands pressed firmly against the soaked bandage; the only thing between a gaping wound and my gloved palms.
"Massive trauma with heavy blood loss. Transfusion required, blood type A positive. No known allergies, next of kin is being notified as we speak. " Emergency department staff crowded around the gurney, hands reaching across as everyone worked to assess the situation. "GSW to the upper left torso. The bullet entered at an angle through the intercostal space of 4 and 5. No apparent exit wound. The patient suffered a pneumothorax, treatment was unsuccessful on scene. He has been unconscious throughout the transport."
**Present Day**
I watched from the passenger seat of the truck as Rick smashed the driver window of the red Dodge Challenger. Olivia sat in the space between the seats, her knees held firmly against her chest. Glenn held his hands over his ears as the alarm screeched at peak volume. Rick carefully entered the vehicle and started the car with a screwdriver Glenn had been harboring. I could see the men exchanging words, likely a plan, but between the distance and the alarm, I couldn't make anything out. I pulled my knees up to my chest and picked at the skin around my thumbnail. After a little while more Glenn climbed into the Challenger and took off. Rick made his way back into the truck, quickly, aware that the car alarm had likely drawn in more of the dead. Olivia crawled back behind the passenger seat, away from the stranger.
"I'm not going to hurt you." Rick stated, glancing back at Olivia before shifting the vehicle into motion. "I'm just trying to survive and find my son Carl. He's about your age."
"Carl Grimes?" Olivia asked, peeking her head out with interest.
"Yes." Rick nodded. "That's him." His voice wavered, and I could see the pain flash across his face.
"I go to school with him. He's nice but I only see him at recess." Her childish face shifted, a frown deepening the corners of her lips. Rick maneuvered the littered streets, making his way toward the front of the department store.
"You're a King County Paramedic."
"I am." I nodded.
"You were there when I was shot?"
"I was the responding unit, yes."
"But we never met before that day?" He asked, glancing at me for the briefest second.
"I was a fresh transfer." I shrugged, resting my chin on my knees. A hush fell over us, more relaxed than before, though it was short-lived.
"How long ago?" He asked.
"Since you were shot?" I clarified. He offered a stiff nod. "Eight, maybe nine, weeks."
"How long since this all started?"
"Six or seven. Times a little hazy these days." Glenn sped past, cutting down the shop's road first to serve as the distraction. After a few moments, as the alarm began to fade, Rick pulled up to the doors and backed in so that the truck was flush against the building. As he moved to the back of the truck to open the rolling doors Olivia crawled into the floorboard by my feet, keeping her head low. Rick beat on the shop door to let the others know it was time to go. I kept my face forward and listened as bags and bodies loaded into the back, a hasty and panicked escape.