Sometimes We Ran (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

be a plant.
    “Sorry. Put your shirt down. Are you alone?”
    “Yes. All alone and pretty goddamn scared.”
    “No buddies ready to jump me and take my stuff?”
    “No buddies. I don’t want your stuff either. You might shoot my ass.” Great. A comedian. Just what I need.
    I thought of something else. “Do you have any weapons?”
    “Just a sharpened piece of rebar for ramming a few skulls. It’s in my backpack, on the ground near your feet.”
    The backpack was indeed near my feet. I almost stepped on it. Keeping one eye on her, I bent down to take a look. I found the rebar with its very menacing point. The rest of the contents were a random assortment of everyday objects. A dead cellphone with a cracked screen, a computer tablet, a compact and other assorted makeup, about 10 or 11 ballpoint pens, and a couple of old magazines. There were also about a dozen tampons and some body spray. My fellow survivor must have been a college student. A pair of textbooks, math and American history, completed her survival gear. No food or water. She had to be hungry, dehydrated, and probably a little desperate.
    I looked at her again. I was slowly calming down. She looked weak, wasted, and half-dead, almost like the things that walked around us. She started to cry again. Crying was bad, as it would dehydrate her further.
    “Please. I’m okay. I need help. I don’t know what I can do to convince you.”
    She was just a scared young girl. She looked like she had been through a lot of pain and suffering. She looked like she had lost everything, and was at the end of the line. I lowered my weapon. I didn’t think she was a threat anymore. “Put your arms down,” I said, trying not to sound scared. “You’re okay. If you had any buddies, they would have jumped me by now I guess.” I kept my guard up. I secretly hoped I was not making a mistake.
    She lowered her arms. She looked relieved, and even smiled a little. It was a pretty cute smile. She must have been real popular with the boys before the world went bad. I realized I had forgotten her name. Clara? … Clarice?
    “My name is Claire. Hello,” she said extending her hand. “What’s your name, soldier?”
    Soldier? Did I look like a Guardsman? Maybe I did. I had on tan cargo pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and my black boots. The pants are tucked into the boots. It cuts down on the brains staining your socks. I was also wearing a camo jacket with a matching backpack. Around my waist was my soft-side ammo case. On my head, I wore an old ball cap with some forgotten baseball team’s logo and sunglasses. The sunglasses were a gift from Gia. I grabbed them as I abandoned my car at the shelter. I didn’t need them, but there was some sentimental value. It’s the last gift my beautiful wife gave me. I then realized I might have forgotten my own name.
    I remembered in a flash. “John …My name is John, and I’m not a soldier.” I took off my glove and grasped her hand to shake it. A handshake; yet another remnant of a dead world. Her hand was the first living flesh I had touched in a long time.
    “Well, John, glad to meet you. That little thing we had back there was a little intense, wasn’t it?” she said, in a slightly sing-song voice. I had to admit, it was great to hear another human voice again. “You know, you still look a little scary. Can I at least see your eyes, handsome?”
    Handsome? No one had ever called me handsome, not even Gia. Keeping a careful eye on my new friend, I stowed my rifle and removed my expensive eyewear. She stepped a little closer.
    “Well, hey, handsome. How you doing?” she said, in that sing-song voice again. “You’re a looker, for an older guy.”
    She giggled a little bit. She was just trying to put me at ease. I did not entertain any thought that I was anything close to handsome, or a “looker.” Rugged, maybe, but not handsome. Gia had always called me “cute,” and adorable, but not handsome. No, Claire’s idea of