Dead Hunger V: The Road To California (40 page)

“Maybe,” said Serena.  “Sorry I ruined the mood.  We should get dried off and pick things up back in the CCT Caboose.”

“I got the only caboose I need right here,” I said, squeezing her ass beneath the water.  She arched her back and laughed quietly.

“Let’s go,” she said. 

*****

By midnight, Serena and I had drained the tub, toweled off, and gone inside our railroad car.  I lay there in the queen sized bed with this beautiful woman in my arms.  It was a fairly cool evening in the lower sixties, and just a thin sheet covered our bodies.

“David,” she said, stroking my chest with her hand.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I … wow.  I don’t even know how to say this.”

“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” I asked.

Serena laughed.  She rested her head on my shoulder, and I could not only hear each word she spoke, I felt the vibration of it through me.  It gave me an intense emotion of closeness with her.

“You know I love you, right?” she asked.

“God, I hope so,” I said. 

“I want to have a baby,” she said.

“If you mean right now, I’m game,” I said, which was entirely inappropriate, but a cover for the overwhelming sense of joy that had just flooded over me.

She slapped my chest.  “I planned to start now,” she said.  “If you agreed.”

That was it.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I jumped out of bed, standing there in all my naked glory, and ripped the sheet from atop her.  I jumped onto the bed and straddled her, kissing her mouth, her neck, ears, breasts, stomach, and I stopped right there so we could finish our conversation.

She was laughing so hard, I was sure we would both be heard by everyone in the park.

“Okay,” I said, still straddling her.  “You’ll have to use your imagination for this one.  Pretend we’re playing Cranium.”

“What?” she asked.

I pantomimed reaching into my pocket and pulling something out.  I had no pants on, so she
really
had to use her imagination.  I held it in my fingers, took her left hand, and slid the imaginary thing onto her ring finger.

“I love you, Serena.”

“David!” she said.  “Does that mean …?” she trailed off.

“Hell yes, it means,” I said, excited. 

I hopped over her and sat on my knees on the mattress beside her, taking her by the hands.  I could see her smiling face looking up at me in the candlelight and the pale moonlight shining through the small window of the rail car. 

“David, you’re like a jumping bean,” she said through a laugh.

“Serena,” I said, bouncing on the bed again, “I wasn’t even sure I wanted a kid, and I can tell you that as much as I loved Leona, I don’t think either of us felt we had the time to dedicate to raising a kid.  But now, with you … and seeing little Flexy and knowing Charlie’s about to pop any day now, I realized that I’ve known for months that I wanted that with you.”

“You could’ve told me,” she said.

“I would have,” I said.  “I’m not too sure what I’m doing anymore.  Seems I feel everything so powerfully these days that I start to wonder if I’m the only one.”

“You’re not,” she said, pulling me down to her.  Her back arched as I kissed her, and she spread her arms wide, followed naturally by her legs.  My hands stroked her sides, over her ribcage, and down to her squirming hips.

I knew an invitation when I saw one.  I hopped off the bed, retrieved the sheet from the floor and wrapped it around my neck like a cape.  “Guess who I am,” I said.

“Batman.”

“Wrong.”

“Superman,” she tried.

“Wrong again,” I said.  “I’m Captain Cunnilingus.”

“Save me,” she said, smiling.  “I’m in distress.”

“How can I refused a damsel?” I said, discarding my cape and swooping in.  She laughed, and it was music to my ears.

The candles flickered around us, their dancing flames throwing shadows throughout the inside of the rail car.  There was a new electricity between us now, and it seemed everywhere my fingers contacted her glistening skin, sparks flew.  She was gooseflesh over every inch, and when I pressed my mouth to her and drank her in, it was as though she floated above the mattress, my only task to pleasure her and to keep her from flying away.

We made love for an hour and fell onto the bed, exhausted.

*****

The morning came, and as promised, I went to the main cabin and powered up the Ham radio.  Serena went to help Rachel and Lola prepare the gear we’d need.  Nelson and Albert came with me.

Drumming my fingers on the table, I waited for the meters to light up and bounce.  I made sure we were still on the agreed-upon frequency and grabbed the microphone, pushing the button.

“Hemp, are you there?” I said.  “Hemp Chatsworth?”

“David, yes!” came his voice.  “Thank you for checking in.  I do have something for you.”

While we had zeroed in on our plan, I would change everything based on Hemp’s recommendation, I knew.  Nelson sat beside me, which I thought was a good idea.  He was Hemp-like in his ability to analyze a problem – something I would not have uttered a week ago.

“Go ahead, Hemp.  Anything you have,” I said.

“Okay, first off,” said Hemp, “I’m very confused about the red-eyes’ focus on the bunker.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” said Nelson.  “Give me the microphone.”

I handed it to Nelson, and he said, “Hemp, dude!  I know exactly what you’re going to say.  This bunker was built like a brick shithouse and there’s no doubt it’s airtight.  Am I headed in the right direction?”

“You are,” said Hemp.  “Exactly.  If this place is sealed up, which I assume it is – except perhaps for a ventilated air system that likely vents far from the entrance around which you said they’re clustered, how would these females know that living humans were inside?”

“I hoped you could answer that,” I said.  “Any ideas?”

“None at all,” said Hemp.  “Nelson, have you any thoughts on it?”

Nelson shook his head.  “Not really.  Maybe through the exhaust vent for the generator?  We smell that.”

“They must have some way of circulating the air in there, right?” said Albert.

“Who was that?” asked Hemp.

“Albert.  He was here in Dunsmuir when we arrived.  He suggested some sort of recirculation system for the oxygen.”

“It’s a better possibility than the generator exhaust pipe.  Albert’s right – there must be a fresh air supply somewhere.  I don’t know if it’s at that entrance, but that might explain it,” he said.  “They would definitely have to have circulation and a place for it to escape.”

“We haven’t flown over the whole complex yet, Hemp,” I said.  “Just where we found the vent and door.  There might be another group of zombies waiting near the vent you’re talking about.”

“It depends on how far away it vents,” said Hemp.  “If he’s planned this place as long as you say, he may have several built-in protections.”

“Well,” I said.  “Based on how long he’s been holing up in there and doing nothing for the survivors we found, a lot of good all his protections did him.”

“If he’s alive, they did exactly what he planned,” said Hemp.  “David, don’t begin judging your uncle until you hear his story.”

Hemp was right and I knew it.  I told him so.

“So any approach with this new information?” Hemp asked.

A new voice joined the mix.  It spoke one word: 
“David?”

I stopped talking.  The voice was familiar.

“Who’s there, please?” said Hemp.

“It … wasn’t you?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t.

“Dave Gammon?  Davey?”

“Uncle Bug?” I said, incredulous.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice clear, the signal strong.

“Have you been listening in the whole time?” I asked.

“I’ve been listening to this Hemp guy for quite a long time now,” he said.  “Dave, how are you?  Are you okay, kid?”

“Is this the famous Brett Ulrich Gammon?” asked Hemp.  “How come you’ve never responded before?  You’ve heard me talking in the past on the short wave?”

“I have.  But excuse me for just a sec.  I ask again,” he said, this time with a slight edge to his voice.  “Dave,
are you okay
?”

“Yeah, Uncle Bug, I’m fine,” I said.  “The only reason I’m here is to find you.”

“I figured that, buddy,” he said.  “People don’t just drop by Dunsmuir.  ‘Specially these days.”

“So can you let us inside?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not,” he said.  “Can’t risk it.”

“I hope you’re joking,” I said.  “We traveled all the way from South Carolina to find your ass.”

“Sorry, buddy.  Too dangerous.  Tons of them dead things outside of here.”

“I know,” I said.  “We saw them last night.”

“Okay, so you get it,” said my uncle.

“Not so much,” I said, really starting to get irritated at his nonchalant attitude about the entire purpose of our trip and all we had risked to get to his bunker.  “Uncle Bug, what
have
you been doing in there all this time?”

“You want me to be honest?” he said.

“Hell yes,” I said.  I noted that Hemp was being quiet, letting this conversation unfold.

“I’ve been hiding.”

“Hiding.  You.”

“Yep,” he said.  “Me.”

“What about all your preparation?  Why do all that just to hide in a hole?” I asked.

“It’s a helluva hole.”

“How many people are with you?” I asked.

“One.”

“Bullshit,” I said.  “What happened to the others?”  I was growing angry.  I’d come all this way to get attitude and evasion from one of my formerly favorite people in the world.  “Albert from the Railroad Park saw a bunch of people get into the lower doors before they closed,” I added.

“They did, and most of ‘em are dead now,” Bug said.

“Most of them?” I said.  “You said there’s only one with you.”

“
With
me.  Exactly.”

“Stop being vague!” I said. 

“There are more,” he said.  “But they’re not
with
me.”

“Where are they?” I asked.

“In another section of the complex.”

“Do they have supplies?  Are they still alive?” I asked.

“Goddamnit, Davey, some of ‘em are dead, some of ‘em are alive, and a whole shitload of ‘em are somewhere between the two!  I thought you said you came here to see about me?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to his last statement, so I just answered the question.  “That’s the reason we’re here, but it doesn’t mean you’re more important than any of the other survivors,” I said.

“Shit, dude,” said Nelson.  “Your battery’s running low, man.”

I looked at the lights on the Ham radio meters, and they were dimming.  I pushed the button on the transmitter.

“Uncle Bug, I’m coming in.”

“You can’t!” he said.  “I’ve got cameras set up, and these things are clustered around my upper door.”

“I know that,” I said.  “We’ve seen it.  From a helicopter.”

“When?” he asked.

“Last night,” I said.

“I saw a few flashes in my cameras,” said Bug.  “Thought that’s what it was.”

“You can’t hear it from inside?” asked Hemp.  “You’re that well insulated?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “Hemp, I even got your urushiol info written down, from when you were talkin’ to Austin.  I even have a mini beer brewery here that I converted to a still using your instructions, but no poison ivy to produce the shit.  Out of boredom, I did everything else to it I need.  Just need the main ingredient.”

“Were you listening last night?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Bug.  “Sorry for not saying anything, but I don’t trust too many people.  I’d been listening to this British dude for months, but I had no idea he knew you, Dave.  I was sure it was a setup last night.”

“A setup?”

“What are the odds that a stranger I’ve been listening to on the short wave radio knows my nephew?”

“So you thought it was some … what?  A government plot to draw you out?” asked Hemp.

“Look, I didn’t know,” said Bug, sounding upset.  “As for the others trapped in here, there’s nothing I can do about it.  If you think you can clear that door, I’ll let you in, but don’t use that fuckin’ bomb Hemp had you make.  I have control of the upper door.”

“Excellent,” said Hemp.  “I’d rather you not use explosives anyway.”

“And Dave, you’d better have some fuckin’ plan to get yourselves back out or get all of us out, because if you don’t, then forget it.  I’ll just stay where I am, and those folks can do the same – maybe until all this crap is over.”

“You didn’t build that complex to just hide inside it,” I said.