The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (10 page)

Hemp nodded.  “Yes.  All clear.  Now we just have to complete the first floor sweep and hope the garage level is safe.”

Gem came back in the room with Cynthia Preston.  She had been in a small office – all glass, but they stood behind some filing cabinets for the physical inspection.

“She’s got some small cuts, but not from human contact so far as I can tell,” Gem said.  “No bites or scratches that might have come from teeth or nails.”

“Any headache?” asked Max.

“No, not at all,” Cynthia said.  “I’m exhausted, but my head feels fine.”

She had clearly calmed down somewhat.  Hemp and
I had dropped her off with Max, Gem and Trina, then we’d completed the other hallway and room searches.  Not many areas to get to without swipe cards, so if you weren’t in one of the labs when the transmutation hit you, you didn’t likely access one afterward.

“I’d suggest you s
tay here with Max.  We’re going to set it up so he’s got power available to him for over a month, and there should be plenty of food.  Nobody knows how long this will go on, but the CDC is the best place to be.”

She nodded.  “I’m only an assistant, but when this started, I heard things.  People I worked with were leaving, rushing home to check on their families.  The main outbreak happened on the third floor, and some made it down and out and I gu
ess to their cars.”

She sat heavily into one of the rolling lab chairs.  “My mother is at home, taking care of my daughter, Taylor.”  Cynthia began to cry and Gem sat in another of the chairs and rolled up beside her.

“Cynthia, honey, how far away is she?  Where’s your mother?”

“Two miles,” she said.  “She lives two miles west of here.”

Gem looked at me as she asked the next question.  “Cynthia, how old is your daughter?”

I rolled my eyes.

“She’s eight.”

I tried to turn away from Gem’s glare
.  “We have a lot of work to do,” I said, knowing this wasn’t going to go well for me somehow.

“Flex, I’ll go.  Trina can stay with
Cynthia and Max, since both have already been checked out for cuts and bites – a quick run there and back.  If her daughter and mom are okay, I’ll bring them back with me.”

Cynthia’s face looked grateful. 
“I have to go with you, please,” she said.  Her eyes pleaded, too.

Gem wasn’t done.  “I have a GPS in the vehicle, Cynthia.  You give me the address and you don’t need to come.  It is dangerous out there, and unless you’re experienced with firearms,
you’ll be putting both of us at greater risk.”

“Babe, would you mind stepping into the hallway with me for just a moment?” I asked.

She obliged.  I let the door rest against the jamb without latching, and spoke in a low voice.

“
You know the odds are against both of them being okay, right?  And if one or the other is infected, we can assume it’s over.”

“I didn’t assume you were
infected.  Or Trina.  I came looking for you, which is what she wants to do, Flex.  And if you don’t mind, I’d like to assume we’ll find them alive.”  Gem stopped talking for a moment, looked through the wire-reinforced window in the lab door at Cynthia Preston, and then back at me.

“And if they’re not okay, at least she’ll
know
, one way or the other.  That’s important.”

I shook my head.  “I can’t stop you, can I?  Even if I refuse you use of my truck?”

“I’ll just find something else to use.”

I wanted to laugh and kick her ass at the same time.  Nothing had really changed, but looking at her now, her expression so defiant, I realized this was why I was nuts about her.  Headstrong and a pain in the ass, but tough as hell and frightened of nothing.

So I kissed her.  I pulled her face to mine and I closed my eyes and kissed the shit out of her.  When I pulled away, her eyes opened slowly, and her mouth turned upward into a smile.  She said nothing, but stared into my eyes.

“
I know you’re smart and tough, but I just got you back,” I said.

She
held both my wrists with her small, long-fingered hands.  “And you won’t lose me,” she said.

“So you say. 
And I better not.  But promise me you’ll convince her to stay here.  I don’t want her to distract you and put you at risk any more than you will be.  Okay?”

Gem nodded, then put her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine
, softer this time.  My lips parted, and I reveled in the taste of her, the softness of her mouth.  We finished the kiss and I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against hers.  “I love you, Gem.  Make it fast, okay?”

She promised.

We went back inside, and Gem sat with Cynthia until the woman was nodding, tears rolling down her swollen cheeks.

She had agreed to stay and let Gem investigate.  Gem
wrote down the address and Cynthia’s mother’s full name.  She jotted the name ‘Taylor’ down beside it.  Her daughter.  She produced a photograph from her wallet, taken from a purse she seemed surprised was still clutched in her hands.

“Take the Uzi and get
plenty of spare mags from the truck before you head out.  If you’re not back in an hour, we’re coming after you.”

Give me forty-five minutes.”

“Wait!” I called just as the door was closing.  She stopped and I reached into my belt bag.  “Take this.  Its range won’t be the advertised 20 miles, but it should work for two to three.”

She took the walkie from me.  “This place is well within that.  Good.  I like this.”

“
You
like it,” I said, smiling.  “If you get into any trouble just hit that button and yell.”  I turned to Max.  “There are other gassed up vehicles in that garage, right?”

“Absolutely.  They keep them full and ready to roll.  You might be impressed with the selection.”

I turned back to Gem.  “Okay, now that my brain is back in gear and I know we’ll have a way to communicate and come after you if necessary, get going and hurry back.”

The dog
and I looked worriedly at the door as it closed.  I looked from it to Trina, who was awake, but staring blankly at the floor.”

“Trini, I think it’s time to name that girl.  She can’t go through her life as
dog
.  What if you were only called
girl
your whole life?”

Despite her exhaustion, she smiled.  “That’s silly, Uncle Flexy. 
Everybody’s got a name.”

I nodded toward the Great Pyrenees.  “Not her.
  At least not one we know.”

She smiled.  “
I’ll think of something.”

“And while you’re at it, you should start thinking about seeing if Max has a bowl to give her some water.  And you should start thinking about names for the puppies
, too.”

With that, she began looking around the room for much needed inspiration.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Because we needed to leave Trina
, Cynthia and the dog without a name with Max, we were acutely aware that we were without Gem and the firepower she provided.  We’d brought enough spare 9mm ammo with us that we felt satisfied we had enough, but I grabbed the first axe I found in a fire hose cabinet, and Hemp snatched another when we reached a second station.

If we ran into any uninfecteds, they would absolutely shit their pants.  I imagined what we looked like.  No sleep in a full day, sweating, dirty, bloody and bruised.

And brandishing submachine guns and axes.

I looked at Hemp.  “Did you see the movie
They Live
?”

We stepped into the service elevator that ran down to the garage level.  “No,” he said.  “Who’s in it?  Anyone I’d have heard of?”

“Not a chance,” I said.  “But there’s a great line in it.”

Hemp swiped his card, hitting the G button.
  The car began to fall smoothly.  “And what’s that?”

I smiled.  “I came here to chew some bubble gum and kick some ass.  And I’m all out of bubble gum.”

“You Americans are all a bunch of John Waynes, aren’t you?” 

I shrugged
and we both managed a good laugh.

W
hen the doors slid open it was into wall of zombies.

There.  I said it. 
Fucking zombies.  I could use respectable terminology when I was dealing with Jamie, but right now, it was the first thing that came to mind.

Rapid decomposition of their skin had turned it pocked
, wrinkled and flaky, and as they pushed against one another to access the oversized cargo elevator, the dead skin flew into the air like tiny winged gnats.

And they
reeked
.

“Get over!
  Over!” Hemp shouted, and I did.  He swung his axe neck-height, and whacked the heads from the first two he hit, the axe blade embedding into a third’s neck, the black-red blood spraying every visible surface.  A disgusting stench that smelled like mold and shit accompanied the horrid mist.  

The moan-scream the things made seemed
unlike the sounds they emitted when we were shooting them, perhaps because they were dying differently.  I made a mental note to mention my observation to Hemp later as I swung in a broad sweep from right to left and at a downward angle, chopping diagonally through the head of another lab-coated freak whose teeth were exposed all the way back to the molars on the left side, and who had bitten his tongue off; it was now hanging by a couple of blue veins out of the side of his gaping pie hole. 

Thankfully, he dropped
and I didn’t have to stare at him for long.  I’d only slammed into the collarbone of the next one, which drove him to his knees, a short round mechanic-looking man-monster with Phil on his embroidered name badge.  I yanked the axe toward me and it sliced into his neck further then came free, but before I could pull it back for another swing, he was coming at me, jerking along on his knees.

Hemp had relinquished his axe and now swung the
Daewoo submachine gun around.  He took out the fat fucker coming at me first, then sprayed the door left to right and back, taking out six more of them.  Shell casings rained down hot, peppering me and the zombies coming at us.  As the front line of them fell we found five more right behind them, and now I had time to pull the H&K around to assist.

Good thing. 
Hemp’s MP5 clicked, out of ammo as I sent round after round into the next layer of hungry predators outside the elevator.  The pile was building now, and if there were more out there, then neither Hemp nor I could see them from our positions on the floor.

But as Hemp slammed his clip back into the
Daewoo, we did see something.

Something disturbing.
  The fat fucker was getting his nose chewed off.

By a head.  A fucking head.

I looked at Hemp, and he followed my eyes back to the pile of zombies stacked in the elevator opening. As the doors attempted repeatedly to close, one side kept bumping the severed head of one of the undead creatures onto its face where it rolled until it hit the bump of the nose, then rolled back, again to be hit by the door, like a too-softly hit pinball falling back to the flippers.

And it gnashed
, biting its tongue in half as we watched, a pus-blood-bile liquid running down its cheek as it did so.  The eyes searched frantically for the food we knew it could still smell, and that food was us.  And as we looked on in wonder and horror, the other severed head munched on the fat fucker’s nose relentlessly, and was making impressive progress.

I shot the one on the right, and Hemp shot the one on the left.  We stood up and took a very close look at the barricade we would have to clear before we could either begin our work on the gas line or meet the others we would have to slaughter.

I took a deep breath, then turned and puked in the corner of the elevator car.  I heaved up an entire can of half-digested chili.

Hemp looked away and tried to breathe through his mouth.

And then he puked, too.  Right on the fat fucker.  When he was done, we wiped our putrid mouths on our sleeves and started kicking the bodies aside as best we could, making sure none of them were without severe brain trauma.  Then we climbed the stack of
really
dead zombies.

At the top of the mound, we found we were in the clear.  All told there had been another
eighteen of them.

I was really beginning to wonder how outnumbered the uninfecteds in this world were.

And then I thought of Gem and reached for my radio.

*****

“Flex, I can’t talk,” she said.  “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

My
icy stare focused on nothing.  I pressed the walkie transmit button almost hard enough to break the plastic.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in a desperate whisper, because it seemed she was trying to be quiet, and it was automatic.

There was a pause.  “Hold on,” she said.

I did.

Then: “I had to move farther away from them before I felt comfortable talking.  Listen, I think I’ve found Cynthia’s daughter, Taylor.  And she’s alive.  But Flex, I’ve never been so scared in my life.  The things are fucking
stockpiling
bodies.”

I wanted to check the batteries in the walkie, because I didn’t want to hear what I thought I
just did.  “Gem.  Are you in any danger now?”

“I’m not
, or I don’t think so, anyway.  Not right now.  But Flex, they’re stacking dead bodies in the house.  Like a meat locker.”

“Is it cold in the house?”

“I have no idea, but this house has a generator running, so the A/C might be on.  Looks like it’s supplied from an underground tank or something, and they seem to know the difference.”

“How many are there?”

“I’ve only seen eight or nine moving around, but the bodies are piled two deep as far as I can see into the house, and I can’t figure out how they got so many.  I mean, hasn’t this only been going on for a couple of days?”

I jammed my finger on the transmit button again.  “Gem, you’d better be sure you’re safe.  Secondly how the hell did you get close enough to see what you just described to me, and find the girl?  That doesn’t sound safe at all.”

“Flex, I’ve got the binocs from your truck, so I scoped it out from a good distance away.  If they’ve got a enhanced sense of smell, then it’s either not as good as the binocular power or the wind is with me, or both.  Anyway, I need you and Hemp if we’re going to get this girl.”

“Where is she, Gem?”

There was a long hesitation.  When her voice came back through the speaker, it was cracking and on the edge of tears.  “She’s . . .
Christ
, she’s beneath another body just inside the door, Flex.  She’s keeping her eyes squeezed shut, but once in a while, when one of them is behind her, she opens them.  Fuck, Flex.  I have to get her, but –”

“But you’ll wait.  I’m coming.  I’m going to leave Hemp here to work on this gas line.  We have to get this going so we can keep the promise we made to Max and get the hell to my house where we can start to put together a plan for our future.”

“Okay,” she said.  “But Flex, hurry.  This kid’s going to be scarred for life, and I want – oh, shit.”

I felt like I was wasting time.  I needed to be there with her now.  “What, Gem?  What?”

“The son-of-a-bitch is – holy crap – he’s dragging a body out of the next door neighbor’s house, toward this one.  Can they have that much awareness?”

I didn’t know.  I looked at Hemp and pressed the button so Gem could hear me.  “Hemp, could these things know that preserving the bodies in a cool area would protect their food source?  I mean, from what you’ve seen so far?”

Hemp shook his head.  “I’ve not seen that kind of thought structure so far.  The group movement, which looked coordinated, could have only been them all catching the whiff of a scent all at once.  But self preservation?  Food storage?  Doesn’t sound likely.”

I held the button.  “Did you hear that?”

She came back on.  “I did, but unless this was some sort of Reverend Jim Jones, Guyana, Kool-Aid mass-suicide thing, then these people were captured and stacked by these freaks.  And I’m only seeing a part of it.  Now Hurry, Flex, or I’m going rogue.”

“Got it.  Get back to the truck. 
We’ll do what we can for the girl when I get there and
you’re
less likely to die in the process.  Promise me?”

“Okay, but hurry. 
Head out the same gate we came through and turn right on the first access road.  You take that same road two miles, then cut your engine, roll in and just park on the corner when you get to Oregon Street.  I’ll be watching for you.”

“Got it babe,
” I said.  “Ten minutes.  I’ll radio if it’s going to be longer.”

I clicked off.  “Hemp, let’s check out some of the
beefier hard tops.  I think I need protection that a ragtop Jeep’s not going to provide.”

*****

The Hummer 2 was perfect.  Turns out the government still used them despite crazy gas prices, even while they preached hybrid technology to the masses.  It had a full tank with six 5-gallon cans of extra gas anchored to a rack on the rear bumper.

Hemp had been running around the large garage investigating.  The space was massive, and the walls that were not bay doors were loaded with racks of black pipe, PVC, flat steel, angle iron, and other fabrication materials.  There were rolling tool chests jammed full of every kind of tool and corresponding cutting bit you could think of.  Upon our first inspection of the stuff I knew he’d be in the Toys R Us of engineering.

He came back, winded.  “Could get pretty crazy out there, Flex,” Hemp said.  “If you can spare about fifteen minutes and pitch in, I think I can make this ride a tad safer and more of what you John Wayne types might call
bad ass
.”

I clicked on to Gem.  “Babe, are you staying clear?  How’s the girl?”

“I can’t see her from where I am now, Flex.  Why?”

“I’ll leave in about fifteen minutes.  You’ve got to wait.  It’s an idea of Hemp’s for the truck I’m bringing.”

“Hurry, Flex.  If you’re not here in twenty, I’m loading up and going in after her.”

I didn’t say anything.  I looked at Hemp.  “
What’s the plan?”

Hemp used the striker
to light the acetylene torch, then started heating four steel flat irons around one inch wide and fifteen inches long.  When the steel glowed red, he started hammering on them.  He had shrugged out of his Daewoo earlier, and now eyeballed the gun, hammering on the steel rods.  He bent them the way he wanted them, and when he was done, all were identical.  I was duly impressed.

“These mounts will bolt to the doors on both sides.  You won’t have side windows, but nothing should be able to get close enough to you for you to need them,” he said as he drilled holes in the top of each u-shaped piece with the ultra sharp ¼” diamond-tipped bit.  “They should rest nicely over the door panel when you roll down the windows.”

Wearing leather gloves, he spun open the bench vise and repositioned the pieces, then pulled the drill press down again and again, drilling more holes at the ends of all four pieces.  Then he unclamped them again and dropped the hot steel into a bucket of water beside the bench.  They splashed in with a quick hiss and sank to the bottom.

“Give them a couple of seconds to cool then roll down the windows
on the Hummer and center them on the door panels on both the driver and passenger sides.  I’m using the Daewoo because the barrel is thick and cylindrical and will mount well using a couple of beefy U-bolts.  Take two of these big metal screws for each one to mount them.  There’s a good driver drill right here.”