The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (27 page)

This brought the total to closer to twenty-five, over half of them already lying still.  As good as Charlie was, and even with Hemp’s and Flex’s help, she’d underestimated, and there were five more zombies coming up on her sides and behind her.

I was out and running, careful to stay out of the lines of fire from Flex and Hemp.

“Heads up, Hemp!” I shouted, running with my Uzi toward the most distant creatures, coming fast.

“Go, Gem!  I got these!” Hemp shouted.  But Charlie was in his line of fire.  “Charlie, drop down, now!” he shouted, and she glanced back and hit the concrete quickly.  Hemp took aim and destroyed two more of the creatures with two three-round bursts.

Charlie leapt back to her feet and said, “Thanks, babe!  You’re a lifesaver!”

I reached the group that had come around the corner.  Two were in lab coats, and to my great fucking relief, neither of them was Max.  I could now see light at the end of the tunnel full of zombies, so just for kicks I started at the first technician’s torso and stitched a line of hot lead up the thing’s neck and right between its eyes.  The others I wasn’t so creative with.  Using two-round bursts, I unceremoniously laid out the other four. 

Charlie took out two more, and suddenly, thankfully, we were at peace again.  Her quiver was empty.

So was my Uzi.

Start to finish, it had taken less than seven minutes.

Charlie looked at me and smiled timidly.  “Sorry, Gem, but I really needed to take some of these fuckers out.  It makes me feel like I’m doing some good in the world.”

“I know,” I said.  “It’s therapeutic.  But I’ve gotten a bit attached to you now, so don’t get yourself killed, okay?  Or turned into one of them.  I’ve had to kill people I love already, and I don’t look forward to ever doing that again.”

Charlie nodded.  “Got it.  I’ll be more careful.  Promise.”

A second later Hemp was by her side, his arm over her shoulders.  “Charlie,” he said.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.  I . . . thanks, babe.  Without you guys, I—”

“It’s okay.  I just don’t want to lose you now or ever,” he said.  He pulled her to him and hugged her, and she wrapped an arm around his neck.

Flex approached us and Charlie withdrew from Hemp’s embrace with a soft pat to his chest.  She turned toward Flex.

“Sorry, Flex.”

“For what?  If we wanted to get inside, we had to put these things down.  This is just part of life now, Charlie.  Thanks for having the balls to get the process started.”

“You’re welcome, Flex,” she said, breathing hard.  “Thanks, all of you.  I’ll go get Trina.”

She walked to the car and tapped on the glass.  Trina’s head sprung up, and with a relieved look on her face, she unlocked the door.  Charlie picked her up and carried her along with me, Hemp and Flex toward the building’s entrance door.  We stepped around the mass of dead zombies, careful to watch for live heads.  There were none.

Bunsen stayed in the mobile lab.  The stench didn’t seem to bother her or the pups.

*****

We approached the building and Flex pulled the door.  It opened.

“Shit,” he said.  “Power’s out.  We need to be careful in here.”

Hemp looked at the door handle.  “No muck on the door pull.  I don’t think these things get the process of opening a door yet.”

“Yet,” Flex said.  “And let’s hope they don’t learn.  We know enough scary shit about these things.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said, following the boys inside.  Charlie brought up the rear with Trina in her arms.  She laid the crossbow down just inside and checked her waistband for the Glock, which was still there.  She pulled it out and held it in her firing hand.

We made it up to the lab without being accosted.  Flex peered through the glass to the lab, and saw Max, Cynthia and Taylor inside.  He pulled the door, but it didn’t open.

“Hold on,” Max called upon seeing him through the glass.  “I’ve got it barred.”

He removed something from inside and the door freed.  We went in.

“Jesus,” Max said.  “What happened out there?  You guys look wiped.”

“Just a little welcoming party,” I said.  “I guess the twelve you said you saw multiplied.  We ran into about twenty out there.”

“I shut down the power.  We were running close and I wanted to save as much fuel as I could for necessities.  I was pretty certain the things wouldn’t be able to get in here.”

“We didn’t run into any inside,” Hemp said.  “Max, do you have everything together?  The stuff we talked about?”

Max nodded.  “Yes, Professor Chatsworth.  Some sniffers and soldering guns, blank circuit boards, and some components, as well as some more medical and lab supplies.  All the food and bottled water we have left, too.”

“I want to get the stuff to the cars and load it up,” Flex said.  “Max, do you have any detailed maps of the
United States?”

“Some excellent topographical maps,” he said.  “We use them to pinpoint areas of outbreaks and the like.  Wait.”

He went to a cabinet and removed several long paper tubes, putting them on the table.  He unrolled one.

“This is a map of
Georgia, but we’ve got all of the states.  Which way are we headed?  Any idea?”

Hemp spoke.  “We’re trying to find an industrial area near a large city, Max.  We want fortification and to be able to house all the vehicles, but we don’t want to be easy targets.  Our ultimate objective is survivability; to have easy access to supplies and at the same time be protected from the abnormals.”

“No military out there?” Max asked.

“We haven’t seen any,” I said.  “I’d think that some of them would have survived and joined together.  We haven’t ventured out that far, though.”

“Look, Max,” Flex said.  “I understand there are quite a few military facilities near Birmingham.  We can take Hwy 20 straight across the state into Alabama.”  He looked at the others and shrugged.  “Check out another state, have access to a shitload of weapons and maybe even a good stock of MREs in case cooking food goes out the window.”

“Why
Alabama?” asked Max.  “There are military bases right here in Georgia, of course.”

Flex shrugged.  “We know this is widespread, but we need to find out how widespread.  We’re not going to learn anything by staying in one place.”

“But you were content at your place,” I said.

“And I guess I’d have stayed that way if it hadn’t been penetrated,” Flex said.  “But I was talking to Charlie on the way over here, and I think we need to change our approach.  Others may have come up with ideas we haven’t thought of, so we need to connect with other survivors and see what we can learn.”

“I don’t really want to start a community,” I said.  “I like people as much as the next girl, but it doesn’t mean we need to take on the responsibility of a huge group.”

It wasn’t that I lacked compassion; I had plenty of love for my fellow humans.  But I didn’t have any desire to make our group any larger than it had to be.  Hell, I’d be happy if Max, Cynthia and Taylor wanted out anywhere along the way.  Call me selfish, but I had my Flex and Trina, and both Hemp and Charlie were as good as family to me now.  I didn’t want major logistical issues every time we had to move.

“I lean toward Gem’s feelings on that,” Hemp said.  “Flex, you told the group at the 7-Eleven that you didn’t want to be a leader, and I get that.  I’m happy to share that duty among all of us, but the bigger the group the more cumbersome we are.  We lose fluidity with each new member of our little tribe here.”

Max looked uncomfortable, and Cynthia, absentmindedly twirling a finger in her shoulder-length, wavy red hair, sat beside a sleeping
Taylor and lightly stroked her daughter’s back as she listened. 

Flex noticed and stepped in to set his mind at ease.

“Max, we’re not talking about you,” he said.  “The three of you are not going to dramatically change our approach to any issues that come up.  We’ve already got a little girl, so one more isn’t going to change things much.  Plus, they could both use a friend.”

He walked up to Max and put a hand on his shoulder.  “You helped us beyond measure, and we’ll help you without a second thought.  Stay with us as long as you like.”

“I’d like that.  And I know these two don’t have anywhere else to go.  I trust you all, and not just because of my relationship with Dr. Chatsworth.  You’re good people and I like you.”

“Settled.  Let’s head toward
Birmingham.  Everyone okay with that?” Flex looked around.

“Bama or bust,” I said.

“Roll Tide,” said Charlie.

“Bloody hell, let’s go.”  It was Hemp.  “I’ve no idea what either of you girls are talking about.”

Charlie laughed.  “That’s because you’re a fucking limey,” she said, taking him by the arm.

We gathered supplies and let Trina wake
Taylor.  As we headed for the vehicles, the two girls held hands as they walked.  They were getting a feel for one another, and despite their age difference, when they started swinging their linked arms, I knew they’d be BFFs before long.

We didn’t bother locking up.

CHAPTER
FIVE

We hit the interstate and realized it would be slow-going.  Whenever we came across any ghouls we put a quick bullet in their brains whether or not they were a threat.  It was the only way we were going to eradicate them.  Letting them
walk on by because they weren’t bothering us didn’t make any sense.

All of them had to die, and we knew it.

The full day of rain we’d experienced had apparently been a massive storm system, and several sections of the roadway were heavily flooded, so this slowed us down, too.  And it is precisely because of this heavy flooding that we discovered a condition that gave us all great pause.  And along with that pause, came a feeling of realization and actual terror.  And while I’m at it, I may as well toss in a little despair, which, like the word
delicious
, is a word I don’t use frequently.

I save delicious for Ruth’s Chris steaks and King Crab, and the occasional lobster.  I save
despair
for shit like what I’m about to tell you.

The highway had been blocked by abandoned and wrecked cars, as well as flooding that was indeterminately deep.  The only way to get around it was to backtrack for two miles and exit at the previous off ramp.

While on that particular detour, about forty-five minutes outside Birmingham, we passed a cemetery.  As I mentioned earlier, the rain had soaked the earth through.  This soaking served to soften up the ground.

Trina, Taylor and Cynthia rode in the car with me.  Just
us girls.  Since playing the “Spot a VW Beetle” game was not going to fly, they were just chattering and talking about what was outside.

Oh, boy.  This gave them something to talk about.

“There’s a man, Gemmy!” shouted Trina as we were midway past the cemetery.  I looked over, slowed the car, and grabbed the radio off the seat. 

“Flex, do you
copy?”

“
Gotcha.  What’s up, darlin’?”

No pun intended
, I thought.

“What’s
gotten
up might be the question.  Stop the truck and take a look at the cemetery.”

He did.  I pulled behind him, and Hemp lined up behind me.  My radio clicked again.

“What’s the problem?” Hemp asked.  Max Romero had ridden with him despite the stink of the deteriorators in the back.  Charlie rode with Flex as she had on the way to the CDC.

“Park it.  We need a confabu-fucking-lation in the street about now.   See you out there.”

Cynthia and the girls stayed inside the car and I’d asked Cynthia to keep them busy doing anything except watching us.

We all stood and watched the graveyard intently.  Every few moments we saw little movements of mud here and there.  Not everywhere, but over the period of ten minutes, we probably saw fifteen.

And we saw three of them completely break free of the earth and crawl out of their graves.

“Oh, my God,” Flex said.

I knew what he was thinking.  He was thinking about little Jesse and the fact that she was only buried about three feet deep.  I shook it from my mind.  I never wanted the thought to come back.  But it would, I knew.  Again and again.

“They’re reanimating,” whispered Hemp.
  “They might have awoken days ago, but the rain’s allowed them the soft earth to dig their way out.”

“That’s determination,” said Flex.

Invisible worms slithered along my spinal column and I shuddered involuntarily. 

Charlie was incredulous.  “But how, if they’ve been embalmed?  Their brains would be gone.”

“Embalming isn’t required by law, except for an open casket viewing, mostly,” said Flex.  “And it’s not cheap, so lots of families just do a ceremony and a thick cardboard casket.”

I looked at him.  “And how the fuck do you know that?”

He would’ve smiled, I know – but what we were seeing negated any smirking that otherwise would’ve gone on.

“I did a
rewiring job at a funeral home once,” he said.  “In a rural area.  I asked, and the director explained that very often, people without a lot of money just opt out of the embalming services.”

“And we’re in an area where people don’t have a ton of money,” Max said.

Charlie and the rest of us were mesmerized as we watched.  A flesh-eater of indeterminate gender pushed itself out of its grave, crawled for four feet, then stood on prisoner of war-thin legs covered only by the tattered remains of some sort of pants.  Apparently the six-foot dirt trip north effectively tore whatever shirt it had been wearing from its body.

The rotter, having gained its footing, turned its strange eyes toward us.  It then tilted its head up as a distant dog might do that
just caught the scent of its quarry.  Next, it started stutter-walking in our direction like an evil marionette doll controlled by Satan himself.

“Time to go,” I said.  “As much as
I want to rid the world of these things, this could take too long.  I want to get to where we’re going, but we still have to figure out exactly where that is.”

“I’m thinking nowhere near a cemetery,” said Flex.

“Unbelievable,” added Hemp.  “Actual zombies.”

He looked at us each for a brief moment.  “Guys, I know this sounds crazy, but I need one of them, too.  The diggers.”

“Diggers?” I asked.

“We need some way to differentiate between them, so I guess diggers about covers it.  As for grabbing one, I’m pretty sure we’ll know where to find them.”

Everyone stared in silence for a moment before returning to their respective vehicles.  Flex took my hand briefly before releasing it.  I knew what it meant.

You and me, babe.

“Good catch” he said.

“Thank Trina,” I said as I closed the door of the Crown Vic.

The walking corpse was now about fifteen yards from the road.

I swung my roof-mount gun toward it, hit the B switch on my GPS screen, and lined t
he dirty fuck up in my crosshairs.  I turned to the back seat.

“Eyes on your knees, girls.  Now.”

They both obeyed.  I noticed Cynthia looked at her knees, too.  I didn’t blame her.

I reached up, and w
ith a quick jerk of the trigger cord, the thing’s head exploded from its body and it collapsed in a heap of rotten clothing, dried blood and brittle bones.

I locked the gun back into forward position and calmly put the car in drive.

We pulled away, all of us feeling quite a bit less optimistic about the future than we had just twenty minutes earlier.

Of that I have
no doubt at all.

*****

We re-entered the freeway about three miles up the road at the next onramp and made it to the outskirts of Birmingham just after nightfall.  The weather was warm – steamy, really – and we were all exhausted.

Trina and Taylor had fallen asleep, having worn one another out with the rock, paper, scissors game.  What should have been just over a two-hour drive had turned into four. 

By the time we got there I wanted to wad up the paper, take the rock and scissors, and toss all that shit out the window.

But we still needed a place to put up our feet.  I was thinking for the night we could find a house that seemed well-protected.  I radioed Flex.

“Babe?  I’m thinking a house might work for tonight.  Wanna look for a residential area?”

“Or a motel,” he said.  They’d only have one entry per room, so if we can get a few rooms next to one another it might keep us from having to guard too many approaches.”

“Good idea,” said Hemp, listening in.  “And this thing is getting low on fuel, so my kingdom for some diesel.”

“Gem, we’re going to need that hand pump.  We might be able to get diesel right out of the ground at a gas station.”

“Screw that, Flex.  You’re an electrician, right?  Why don’t you just run a cable from our generator to the electric panel on the station pumps?  Shut off all the breakers we don’t need and leave the pump power on.”

“That’s why I married you,” he said.

I clicked the walkie again.  “You didn’t marry me, mister.”

“I’m gonna.  Just you wait and see,” he said, a smile in his voice.

I think I got those chills again, but this time it was for a good reason.  A
nice
reason, I should say.

Hemp pulled into a Kangaroo Express with a sign showing diesel fuel.  It was on a street littered with stalled vehicles called
Tallapoosa Street.  When we pulled to a stop I looked around in all directions.  I knew everyone else was doing the same thing.

Where were all the ghouls?  They had to be here somewhere.  The air was still, which meant our scent wouldn’t be blowing in all directions like chum in shark-infested water, but I didn’t want to be outside for long no matter what.

“When I get out, lock it, Cynthia.  And let them sleep, okay?”

“Okay.  Can I help?”

“Just stay with the girls.  That’s a big enough help,” I said.  “Once we get you trained, you can help in different ways, okay?”

She smiled and nodded.  I tried to remember that we all had our terrible stories of how this all began, and hadn’t really learned much about hers yet.  When she was willing to talk about it I’d sit with her.

I checked the Uzi’s magazine, and it was right where I’d left it; full.  I put the strap over my shoulder and got out of the car.  Flex waited outside for me, and Hemp had pulled the motor home up to the diesel pump.  It was unlocked, but as expected, there was no power.

Charlie got out of the Suburban with the crossbow slung over her shoulder and walked to where we gathered.

“There should be a bypass key for the pumps,” said Flex.  “I’ll look for it inside.”

He wore one of the headlamps but hadn’t turned it on yet.  He gave one to me and I passed it to Charlie.  I unstrapped the one that was wrapped around the barrel of my Uzi and put it on.

“Okay.  Hemp,” I called.  “Stay by your van and you’ll know by the bells and whistles when you’re ready to pump.”

“I’ll scream if anything goes wrong,” he said, smiling.

We went inside the gas station office and each of us, holding weapons forward, checked the rooms.  There was a decaying stench in the air, and it didn’t take long to discover what it was.

A fly and maggot-ridden body lay five feet inside the store between the bread and candy aisles of the mini mart.  The bread was all green and molded, a reminder of the things we wouldn’t have anymore unless we made it ourselves. 

The body was of an Indian man.  He lay face up – if he’d still had a face – and his tag said he his name was Rakesh.

Rakesh no longer had a brain, and his limbs had been chewed to the bone, so he didn’t appear to be a threat.  It sucked that we still had to make an evaluation when someone was in such condition, but the fact was, we did.

I stood back three feet and put a single round in his head.  I was done taking chances.

“I found the switches.  They’re all in the on position,” said Flex.

He was behind the sales counter.  “I’m going to turn off all the pumps but the diesel.  Our gen’s not going to power all of them.  Maybe one.”

Charlie stopped at the Twinkies.  “These things have enough preservatives to last a year or two,” she said, pulling three boxes from the shelf.  “Hey, Flex.  Hand me a couple bags from back there, would you?”

Flex did, and she grabbed three more boxes, loading them up with two packages of Hostess Cupcakes.  The chocolate kind with the white squiggly frosting on top.

A little of that weed and I’d be all over those.  No doubt. 

I walked around to the door leading to the service bay.  I pushed through it and saw another body lying on the concrete floor to the right of the door.  This was one of the mechanics judging from his uniform, but he was face down.  I didn’t bother with an examination; I put a bullet in his head.

Blood splattered against the wall and the floor, and the body convulsed violently.  Hands and feet twitching as the crimson liquid ran away from the body and pooled beside my feet.

Flex burst through the door.

“Gem!  Are you okay?”  He looked down at the body on the floor and saw the blood.

I looked at him.  “Flex.  He was alive.”

“Jesus, Gem, didn’t he say anything?”

“I think he was pretending to be dead.”

“He had to know we weren’t zombies.  We were talking, for Christ’s sake.”

“I don’t know.”   I was numb.  “Flex, I killed a man.  I just killed an innocent man.”

Flex knelt down beside the man’s body.  He’d quit twitching and now lay still.  Flex’s hand went to the man’s ear and he brought back a hearing aid.  He reached around to the other side of the man’s head and found another, then held them both up in the palm of his hand.