Dead Hunger V: The Road To California (37 page)

“Rachel?” shouted Nelson.  “Did you hear me?”

I heard worry in his voice.  I had not heard her say anything in a while, so was glad when she acknowledged him.

“Yes!” she shouted.  “I’m going now!”

As I turned, spider-walking backward across the bone fragments to the clearing that lay somewhere beyond the undead crowd looming above us, I screamed “Lola!”

I got to the edge of the crowd and scrambled to my feet.  Once up, I saw that some of the biters had spread beyond the horde’s edge.  I smashed the stock of the AR-14 into the heads of two who came too close to me, crushing their skulls and ending their miserable lives once and for all.

Nelson crawled out to my left, and Serena and Rachel came out at the same time.

I helped pull Serena up, and she immediately ejected her spent magazine and fished in her pocket for a fresh one, latching it in place.  I took her lead and did the same.

“Where’s Lola!” shouted Nelson, searching the crowd as he pulled Rachel to her feet. 

“There!” said Rachel, pointing.  “Over by the doors!”

We all looked and saw Lola standing there, but she wasn’t as tall as many of the zombies crowded around her.  She stared off to what I believed was east, and as I followed her line of sight I saw what had captured her attention.

A female, about ten yards away, walked toward her.  It’s blonde hair, still intact and straight, with a sheen that did not belong among these filthy, rotted monsters.

The breeze caught it, wispy strands blowing around her shoulders as she walked with extraordinary grace toward Lola.

I realized then that Lola had never followed Nelson’s suggestion of dropping to the ground below the closing horde, and it wasn’t that she had hesitated; she simply never dropped.  I had seen her knife in her hand when I’d last caught sight of her and wondered if she still grasped it.

Then I realized something: she hadn’t dropped because they were ignoring her.  The command that she echoed had come from the red-eyed, likely pregnant female abnormal, but Lola had still been essentially invisible to them.

But not to the red-eyed female, whose stare never once wavered.  She kept disappearing below the heads of the other rotters, but when she reemerged, she was even closer.

“Lola!” I screamed, but she did not respond.

I raised my weapon, and the moment I did, the bitch’s eyes turned directly toward me, the red vapor thick and practically leaving a trail wafting in the air behind her.

She dropped from view.

“Shit!” I said, lowering my rifle.  “Lola, run!”  A zombie got too close to my left side so I pulled out my Walther and shot it in the head.  A substantial chunk of its skull, along with the remainder of its brain and its right ear, flew from the corpse and the thing tumbled away from me, down toward the trail on which we had come in.

“What’s going on, David?” asked Serena, her face terrified.  “What’s she doing?”  Then she called, “Lola!  Come here, please!  Come to us!”

“Oh, my God,” said Rachel.  “What’s wrong with her?  It’s like she’s in a trance.”

“She’s going to die,” said Nelson.  “I can’t see the thing anymore.”

And then we
all
saw it.  The red-eyed female shot up straight and tall, with speed that should have been relegated to the living.  She was three feet from Lola when her arms went out and hooked around our young friend’s neck.

I could not hear what Lola said, for I don’t believe she actually vocalized anything.  I did see her lips move.  I saw her mouth form the single word.

Die.

The moment her mouth closed again, her arm was in the air and the Bowie knife came straight down toward the creature’s head.

One of the thing’s dead hands caught her wrist when the blade was less than an inch from plunging past her thriving hair, through her skull and deep into her advanced brain.

What happened next would have to be replayed in slow-mo before I could ever figure it out.

The knife flipped through the air, the source of its propulsion unknown to me.  Lola caught it in her left hand, and in the next split second, the hilt of the knife slammed against the zombie’s head, the blade penetrating everything between its ears.

Black liquid flowed from the gash as Lola withdrew it, yanked her wrist free of the waning grip of the red-eyed female, flipped the blade yet again and caught it in her right hand.  She plunged the hardened steel through the she-bitch’s eye socket and pushed upward and kept pushing, until she had nearly severed its head in two.  Lola withdrew the knife and the thing fell away.

So did Lola, suddenly dropping from view.  We heard a scream and Nelson almost ran into the crowd, but I grabbed his shirt.  Two seconds later, Lola stood again, only this time, another female zombie, this one with gleaming, brown hair, hung from her blade, and Lola twisted it into the center of its forehead, and kept rotating, alternating with both of her hands.

A cry still emitted from the abnormal.  Its mouth was open, and the horrid shriek echoed off the canyons, seemingly for miles.  Lola suddenly withdrew the blade and double-gripped it in both hands, slashing lightning-fast from right to left at the female’s neck, silencing her mournful howl.

In a move worthy of Nelson Moore, the amazing Lolita Lane leaned back and threw her right leg up in a piston-like kick.  The monster flew backward, her severed head spinning forward before falling at Lola’s feet.  The headless zombie smashed into the massive horde of shambling walking dead behind her, taking several of them down as well. 

When Lola was done, she looked at us, and an almost embarrassed smile touched her lips.  I saw her once crimson eyes were now almost clear again.

She walked back to us.  “That was intense,” she said.

“You fucking saved us,” I said.  “I mean, really saved us.  We couldn’t have killed them and kept reloading at that pace.”

“You saved
all
of us,” Lola said.  “That wafer saved us.”  She looked back and forth between all of us, as though she did not want us to miss what she was about to say.

“I drew her to me,” she said.  “When I heard her thoughts, I pulled her to me.  I thought the word
come
, and I just said it over and over in my head, and every time I looked, she was closer.  Same with the other one.”

“Lola,” I said, finally pulling off my mask.  “You’re telling me that you were controlling
them
?”

“Did you see the one grab my neck?” asked Lola.

“Yeah, dude!” said Nelson.  “I was freaked out!  Thought you were a goner.”

“She was pissed,” said Lola.  “I felt her anger.  Emotion, raw as it comes.  I forced her to me, and she lashed out.”

“Holy shit,” I said.  “I wonder if Hemp’s figured this out yet.”

We looked around us.  With the two females down, the crowd was now a mess, moving in all directions, no focus and seemingly, nothing drawing them to the doors anymore.

“What’s happening?” asked Albert.

“I don’t know,” I said, lying to the young man.  Because I thought I might know.

“Stay here for a moment,” I said.  “Serena, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” she said, following me.  I moved about ten steps away.

“I think this means … Jesus.”

“What, David?” she asked.

“If there was anything alive in there,” I said, “They’d push that way, toward the doors.  Look at them.  They have no focus.  Some are moving toward the forest.  Animals I guess.”

“So … the females?” asked Serena.  “They directed this group to your uncle’s place?”

“They know something,” I said.  “But if there are people alive in there, they’re not behind these doors.”

“We still have to go in,” said Serena.

“I know,” I said.  “I just hope the kid doesn’t find something that used to be his mom in there.”

*****

             
Chapter Fifteen             

“I don’t know how much ammo we’ll need when we get inside,” I said.  “We could kill all these, but it would take too much.”

“Why aren’t they at the doors anymore?” asked Albert.

It was the question I dreaded.  I wondered if I should lie to him, then thought better of it.  He was nineteen years old; old enough to be told the truth when he asked a question.

It’s that awkward moment when you wish an awkward moment joke was appropriate, but you know it’s not.

“They scatter because there’s nothing drawing them,” I said.

He stared at me, only his eyes visible through the eerie mask.  “What do you mean?”

“Albert, I think Hemp would concur that without the draw of human flesh or the direction of the red-eyed females, they just wander.  All directions.  Like they’re doing right now.”

“Why aren’t they going to the doors?  What about the people inside there?  They smelled them before, right?  What’s different?”

Serena removed her mask and reached up and slowly pulled Albert’s off.  She stroked his hair and said, “What he’s telling you is the creatures never sensed anything inside.  The strong females focused them there.”

“But why would they, if there’s nothing in there?  My mom’s in there!”

“She might be inside, Albert, but she’s not
right
inside,” said Serena.  “Maybe further in.”

Albert ran and put his ear to the thick doors, listening.  He stared at us as he did so, and his mouth turned into a semi-smile.  “I hear them moving!  I hear it!  They’re in there!”

“You don’t know what –” I began.

“Mom!  Mom!  It’s Albert!  Pound on the door if you hear me!  Pound on the door!  I’m alive, mom!  We’ve come to get you out of there!”

I turned to Nelson and the others.  “He’s not going to stop until we prove it to him,” I whispered.  “We need to just open them.”

“Hold on,” said Rachel.  She took her radio from her belt and pushed the button.  “Russell?  Maddie?  Come in.”

A squelch, and a voice.  “Who’s this?”  It was Maddie.

“It’s Rachel, Maddie.  You and Russell be ready.  The creatures up here are heading into the woods.  Lots of them.  I’d get the girls inside, and don’t come out.  You have the guns we left you?”

“We do, but why is this happening?” she asked.  “Rachel!  Russell’s down at the creek with Crystal and Linda!”

“Does he have a gun?”

“No, he didn’t take one,” said Maddie, worry in her voice. 

“Does he have a radio?”

Silence.

“Maddie?”

“It’s on the table,” she said, frustrated.  “I’m looking at it right now.  Damnit!”

“Take a gun and go get him,” said Rachel.  “And I’m only calling as a precaution, Maddie.  They started moving into the woods about ten or fifteen minutes ago, so they won’t be close to you yet.  Still, hurry.”

“Okay,” she said.  “How’s Albert?”

“He’s fine.  You just go.  Now.”

“Okay,” said Maddie.  “Be careful.”

“You, too,” said Serena. “Out.”

Rachel looked at us.  “What do you say we get these doors open?”

*****

“Something’s holding it from the inside,” said Albert.  He still carried his sharpened rebar rod in a long, obviously homemade sheath on his belt.  He was using it to pry between the two heavy, wood doors, but they pulled out less than a half an inch before springing closed again.

“We need to find another way in,” I said.

“Where?” asked Albert.

“You smell exhaust at night sometimes, right?” I asked.  “Fumes?  I thought I smelled them last night, too.”

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s got to be him,” I said.  “If he’s still got fuel and a generator, it’s venting somewhere.  It can’t be that long a run, and he didn’t blast his whole place into solid rock.”

“You think it’s camouflaged?” asked Rachel.

“Maybe,” I said.

“I know the best way to spot it,” said Rachel.  “Now that we know where this place is.”

“The helicopter,” said Lola.  “What about fuel?”

“We need it first,” said Rachel.  “Albert, we may have to prepare today and get this all ready for tomorrow morning, early.”

“What good is a vent going to do us?” asked Albert.  “You can’t get in through a vent.”

“My Uncle Bug wouldn’t make this place without another way out,” I said.  “He was ready for a massive disaster or government takeover – martial law.  There’s not a chance in hell he’d let himself become trapped.  There is another way in.  At least one.”

“And I ask again, what the hell good will finding a vent hole help?” he asked.

“It’s a starting point,” I said. 

“Yeah,” said Nelson.  “Dude, you have to trust us more.  We’ve never done this junk before, but we are
really
lucky.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Lola, smiling and unbelievably calm after her ordeal.  “You guys found me.”

“Okay,” said Albert.  “But I hope you know we’re wasting all this WAT-5 stuff of yours.”

“Doesn’t need to be completely wasted,” I said.  “We’re going back down to our ammo stock, so let’s kill as many of these rotters as we can.  Maybe that’ll help secure the future of the Railroad Park Homestead.”

We got to work.  Bullet after bullet, we ridded the world of just under 140 more walking corpses with frightening appetites.

Even with such a successful hunt, we were acutely aware that many of them had gotten away clean and were now crunching along atop the forest leaves, startling buck and doe alike.

*****

When we got down to the park, with six more rotters dying along the way, everyone was back in the trailers, and we did not find any strays at the camp.  With their speed, it would be a while, and without the red-eyed bitches directing them, they would simply have to follow the scent.

We decided to have a quick meeting.  The younger girls were told to stay inside their respective residences, and everyone else gathered inside Russell and Maddie’s rail car cabin.

Albert had shared with his friends the news of his father.  He told them he “took care of it,” which was accurate, but much easier said by the young man than done, I knew.  He told us he wanted to go and sit with the kids, and we all just nodded and told him to take care. 

“I’m glad Albert’s not here for this part,” I said.  “Kid’s had it hard enough.  Anyway, if I had to make a bet as to whether there were living people behind those two huge doors, my guess would be no.”

“Dude, the zombies were there, though,” said Nelson.

“For months, according to Albert,” said Maddie.

“I told Albert about the red-eyed ones.  Did he fill you guys in?”

“Yeah,” said Russell.  “You think the red-eyes ordered them to stay there?  Why would they, if everyone inside there’s turned?”

“I do,” I said.  “It’s my guess that the lower garage section has nothing inside but bones and zombies, pretty much just like outside.”

“Then why would the smart females want them to stay there?” asked Russell.

“Because,” answered Serena.  “They know there are people inside.  Maybe not right there, but inside.”

“Yes!” said Nelson, throwing his arms in the air.  “And they know that’s a way in.  They don’t necessarily have to smell it, because the red-eyed ones can hear.”

I nodded.  “From Hemp’s later experiments after we left Concord, the eardrum tissue was not only regenerating, but according to him, they were already functional and changed in shape.  Like they evolved into something better.”

“So you think,” said Maddie, “that they might have developed some type of super hearing and they can detect the sounds of living people inside that complex?”

“They can probably hear you down here, too,” I said.  “Girls will be girls, after all.  They run, they laugh.”

“Not these girls,” said Russell.  “Not very much, anyway.  They have their moments, but they’re smart.  Always ready, and some are well-tested.”

“I’m sure they are,” I said.  “Anyway, here’s the plus side of what I’m talking about.  I suspect the red-eyes knew there are people in there.  Alive.”

Nelson said, “So the smart ones didn’t let the dumber ones leave because they know there are a lot of survivors in there, not just a few.  If left to their own devices, the dumb ones would have just wandered off with nothing drawing them there.”

“Exactly,” I said.  “It’s the only thing that makes any sense.  Albert’s mother might be one of the survivors.  I really hope she is, anyway.”

Maddie’s eyes glistened, and she played with her hair as she said, “I hope so, too, but until now, I didn’t have any hope at all.  Albert’s been clinging to that all this time.  As bad as it sounds, I was almost relieved when I heard about his father, because I thought it would allow Albert to finally let that go.”

Serena slid in beside Maddie in the dinette bench and took her hand.

Maddie continued.  “I just never had much faith that Morgan and Ellie were alive, but I never would’ve shared that with Albert.”

“Don’t give up on his mother yet,” said Lola.  “I had a definite feeling of defensiveness when those chicks got in my brain.  They had very strong reasons for being there, and while I don’t know exactly what they are, I can tell you they were trying to throw everything at me to get me to stop our push.”

“They don’t know about the wafers,” said Nelson, smugly.  “So they’re not quite as smart as they think.”

“We don’t know who’s inside yet,” Serena said.  “In the way of zombies.”  She turned to Lola.  “Did that feeling of control stay with you after you killed the two?  Like they were in your head?”

Lola shook her head.  “No.  After they went away, I was pretty much back to me.  My thoughts.”

“I wonder,” I said, “If the red-eyes need to see you to know to issue commands.”

“As opposed to sensing us?” asked Lola.  “Maybe.  Can you guys ask your scientist?”

“Do you have a portable shortwave radio?” I asked.

“Not so portable,” said Russell, “but yeah, there’s one in cabin 1.  That’s the old office.  We power it with a car battery and have solar panels mounted on top of the cabin to keep it trickle charged.”

“I’m gonna get to talk to Hemp!” said Nelson, obviously excited.

“Maybe,” said Serena.  “If we can get him.”

“8:00 PM, eastern time,” I said.  “That’s when he starts monitoring every night.  “We’ll be on.”

“I want to hear little Flexy,” said Serena.  “I miss the hell out of that little guy.”

*****

Russell and Maddie had a pair of gasoline-powered golf carts, both of which were equipped with small service trailers.  Russell said they’d used them at the park beforehand to run supplies to events, like bonfires and picnics.  Guns loaded and ready, Nelson, Russell and Albert loaded the small trailers up with empty, ten-gallon gas cans and volunteered to get enough fuel to fill the chopper.  Rachel didn’t think there was enough left in the tank to fly it to the gas station and its underground tanks, so it was the only choice.

I felt like I needed more sleep.  Not sure why, because I slept pretty well the night before.  Either way, there wouldn’t be any naps today.

Instead, I used the time to investigate the Ham radio and get more familiar with it.  Hemp had showed me the basics on the handhelds, but what I walked into inside that cabin looked like something from a steampunk novel.  There was a row of six batteries wired in series, connected to a power inverter.  The Ham was plugged into the inverter, and when I fired it up, at first nothing happened.

It took me a few seconds more than one might expect to realize this old radio had tubes and I was going to need a bit of patience.

Hemp was always scanning the short wave frequencies at 8:00 PM eastern time, so we’d be three hours earlier.  We’d need to attempt contact at 5:00 PM. 

I had understood that a certain range of frequencies was typical for daytime use, and the other range was used at night; I just didn’t know whether any protocols had changed and I’d never thought to ask Hemp if he still scanned all the channels.  Judging from the desperate people who might be trying to communicate on the short waves, it made sense to me that Hemp would not limit his search in any way.

I decided I’d better ask Russell if he’d even tried to use the radio.  The antenna was still mounted and the batteries had a charge, so I assumed all was still functional, but it would be interesting to find out if he’d ever heard from anyone.

I immediately thought about what was happening in other parts of the world.  How were survivors in Russia or Brazil, or even Saudi Arabia handling this catastrophe?  Was there anyplace in the world where … I interrupted my own train of thought, sending it off the rails.