Dead Hunger II: The Gem Cardoza Chronicle (29 page)

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Authors: Eric A. Shelman

Tags: #zombie apocalypse

BOOK: Dead Hunger II: The Gem Cardoza Chronicle
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“If my arms weren’t strapped, I’d do it now.  But just kiss me instead.”

“And this isn’t some sort of clever zombie trick?”

I smiled.  “Try me.”

Turns out he was right.  I was only hungry for his touch, not his flesh.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as he pulled away again.

“I still want you to keep me strapped down until at least tomorrow.  But you have to be prepared to let me go pee and to scratch my nose.”

He laughed, wiping at his eyes.  “Deal.  Let me go get Cynthia.”  

 

*****

 

They sat with me, fed me lunch – no, I didn’t crave human flesh yet – and gave me water, and when I asked for it, Jack Daniels.  I asked for it three times.  Mostly because I found it deadened the pain, but also because I actually liked it.

The next day we unwrapped my thumb to clean it again and take a look to make sure there was no infection working its way in.  It looked excellent, even to my untrained eye.  Nothing was inflamed or bright red, and even the swelling was almost nonexistent.

It appeared to have already begun the healing process.  I wasn’t sure, so I thought I’d ask.

“Hemp, I know from my Uncle Rogelio that this came on really fast.  At least from the initial virus or whatever.  What do you think?”

“I think,” Hemp said, “that you’re not showing any signs at all of either infection, the headache, nothing.  I don’t imagine that’s how something this aggressive presents itself.”

“So more like a hurricane force wind than a gentle breeze,” said Flex.

“In a sense,” said Hemp.  “This is a plague that ravages, and there doesn’t seem to be anything slow about it.  When I was at the police station, it was uncanny.  Police officers would be fine one moment, and within ten minutes they were racked with the headache and began attacking people five minutes after that.”

“Compared to something like rabies, though.  How about that?” asked Cynthia.

“That’s actually an excellent comparison,” said Hemp.  “But only because of the way most cases are transmitted.  Rabies can gestate for a period of up to two months, dependent upon how long it takes for the virus to reach the central nervous system.”

“Two months?” I asked.  “Do I have to wait two months before I’ll know if I’m going to be okay?”

“Gem, the similarities end with the bite,” said Hemp.  “I can tell you without any research at all that this virus penetrates the body far more rapidly than rabies.  I’m not giving you a clean bill of health yet, but I’m very encouraged right now.  And I can’t tell you – can’t begin to tell you – how happy that makes all of us.”

“Least of all me,” I said.  “Do you think I can get out of this bed, though?  I promise to alert you right away if I start thinking you look like a T-bone steak.”

“Remember,” said Flex.  “You’re the one who wanted to be restrained.”

“I know, but I was worried.  Now I feel like me, and you’re right .  I don’t even feel nauseous.”

“Hemp?” Flex said.  “How about it?”

“Tomorrow, Gem.  Let’s give it one more day and we’ll
get you out of here.”

“Can she see Trina and Taylor?” asked Cynthia.  “Do you want to, Gem?”

I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out.  “Cyn, do I look cuckoo?  Of course I want to see my girls, but do me a big favor and just unstrap my arms.  I have to hug ‘em if I get to smell ‘em.”

Cynthia looked at Hemp and he nodded, smiling.  “Sure.  Except for the smell comment, she seems safe enough.”

“Thanks, Hemp.  Cyn.  Really.  I love you both.”

“It’s mutual,” said Cynthia.

Hemp didn’t need to say anything and he knew it.  But he said something anyway as he stood at the door.

“Don’t eat the kids, Gem.  And by the way, I love you, too.”

 

*****

 

A week passed and I was up and around for six of the seven days with no signs of infection or madness – or death, which is the main symptom of the rotter disease.

We never told Tr
ina or Taylor what had happened, instead just telling them I’d cut my hand on some sharp metal.
  They had enough on their hands with the damned dogs.

When I’d been strapped down, the door was left open and Bunsen pushed through, her big, white furry head staring at me, her big wet tongue dangling from her mouth.  She’d jumped up with her paws on the bed, and had licked me soaking wet until Flex came in to pull her off me.

It was my laughing that brought him in.  My laughter also brought the pups in, and before I knew it two of them had leapt on top of me.

It was the two lovers of the group, Slider and Tong.  After that, Slider refused to leave the room and sat beside my bed, even through meals.  They brought food in to him.

I had decided then that Slider was mine.  My dog.  Mine and Flexy’s.  I’d seen Flex playing ball with him, and he actually brought it back after spinning out all over the warehouse in a comical display of lack-of-traction.

And now that I was up and at ‘em, Slider was with either me or Flex wherever we went.  And he was a big boy now at just four months of age.

Flex and Hemp were in the lab with the she-bitch, and I didn’t have any desire to go in there.  I was still pissed and a little scared of her.  I wasn’t exactly sure which emotion was stronger, but I wouldn’t go in there without Suzi to save my life.  And I know if I did go in there with Suzi, I’d fill that whore full of lead.  A full magazine of the world’s most precious metal today.

Hemp came out and trotted toward the mobile lab when I waved him down.  He came right over.

“What’s up, Gemmy?”

“What are you doing with her?” I asked.

“Important test.  The last one, then she’s gone.”

“It doesn’t involve tender caresses, does it?”

“Not a chance,” he smiled.

“Good.  The results are conclusive, but fucked.”

“I know.”

“So what’s your test?”

“I’m going to administer some of the gas coming up from the earth.  Going to inject it into her.”

“No more urushiol tests?” I asked.

Hemp shook his head. “Not unless I want another cleanup on aisle five.”

I nodded.  “Yeah.  What do you think will happen?  Did you get analysis back on it yet?”

“I did,” he said.  “It’s not natural to this planet as far as I can tell.  Some components of it are, but there are too many holes in the data – elements that we’ve never recorded before.”

I looked at him.  “This should be exciting for you then.”

“It would be, Gem – if it weren’t so dire.  A scientist wants to discover new things, but not if those things bring an end to the world as we know it.”

“I know that, dipshit.”

He laughed.  “I’m just explaining why it’s not as exciting as it should be, that’s all.”

“The excitement comes now, Hemp.  Because you’re going to figure the shit out, give it a name and learn how to neutralize it, aren’t you?’

Hemp stood straight up, his shoulders back.  He pulled his lab coat together.  “Damned straight.”

“Okay.  So if it’s not from this planet, where is it from?”

“Let me see if I can put this in a way you’ll understand.  The earth’s been through some shit storms since its creation.  Major shit storms.  Fucking meteors, magnetic reversal of the poles, massive temperature shifts, lightning strikes beyond calculation, pretty much everything the galaxy could throw at it.”

“Don’t tease me,” I interrupted.

“I’m getting there.  So anyway, I don’t know how widespread this gas emission is, but it’s my hypotheses that it’s rising from the core of the planet.  Exactly what it is or how it got there, I don’t know.  What triggered it, I don’t know.  The core of the earth is solid metal, mostly iron and nickel.  The outer portion of the core is molten.  If something occurred to create a fissure in the core, we have no idea what components lay within, and if pressurized and forced to the surface of the planet, its effects would be unknown until it happened.”

“You really haven’t give this much thought, have you?” I said, smiling.

“No.  Not really.  Just thought of that just now.”

Hemp could be funny when he wanted to, but for some reason I was pretty sure he just did think of it.

“Well, Hemp, I’m not a scientist, but I did stay at a fucked up imitation of a Holiday Inn Express a while back.  So if this is a virus, then how would it survive heat like that?”

Hemp shrugged.  “I don’t know that it is a virus.  It’s an element of some sort, and when it bonds with the typical makeup of a human body, it creates the symptoms – the zombie-like people – that we’re battling.  Somehow our immunity to urushiol prevents it from fusing with our biological makeup.”

“Jesus, Hemp,” I said.  “I think you might really have a handle on this thing.”

“I don’t know if I do or not, but if what I’ve said is anywhere near the truth, then there won’t likely be any cure, Gem.  The only hope might lie within the urushiol itself, both for prevention and for defense.”

“Kind of like using the polio virus to vaccinate against polio itself?”

“Yes, but again – the more I consider what I’ve found, I’m almost positive it’s not a virus, per se.  It’s more of a chemical and biological reaction.”

“My head hurts from this conversation.  Now go get back to work.  Oh, one more thing.”

Hemp turned back to me.  “What’s that?”

“How long might this mystery gas keep coming up from the earth’s core?”

Hemp didn’t answer.  He stared at me for a long time, his expression one of great concern.

“Hemp?”

“It could be a month or a year, Gem.  Or a thousand years.”

My skin grew clammy and cold.  It was my own fault.  I asked the question, after all.

“Okay, then I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Will a baby be immune?”

“Why do you ask, Gem?”

“I just need to know,” I said.  “I mean, we have to repopulate the planet, right?  Think of Charlie and Cyn.”

“If both parents have the immunity, then the child would likely have a 95% chance, if not better, of being immune, too.”

“They say that 87.5% of all statistics are made up on the spot.”

“I never make up statistics, Gem.  There’s not something you’re not telling me, is there?”

I shook my head.  “No, Hemp.  I’m not pregnant.”

“Okay.  How’s your hand?”

I held up my hand and flexed my half thumb.  “Good.”

“Good.  Give it a washing now.  I’ll talk to you later, let you know how it goes in there.”

I wasn’t pregnant, as far as I knew, but I
was
late.  I’d been late before, so that’s not conclusive evidence and this could just be related to the stress.  I mean, we
were
under a bit of stress, weren’t we?  Even if we tried to laugh this shit off as much as possible there was a lot happening.

“Can you activate the camera and monitor?” I asked.  “I’d love to watch.  Just don’t want to go in.”

“Sure, Gem.  It’s already set up, so I’ll power it up for you.  I’ll let Charlie and Cyn know, too.”

 

*****

 

“I want to watch the TV, too!” shouted Trina.

“Me, too!” said
Taylor
.

“It’s not normal TV, guys,” said Cyn.

Hemp walked over.  “It’s boring British television, girls, and what’s more, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What?” challenged Trina.

“I brought some of your Disney movies, even though you said you didn’t want them.”

“Little Mermaid?” said Trina, excitedly.

“That, and Jungle Book, Lion King, and I think Beauty and the Beast.”

“That’s a scary one,” said Trina.

“No it’s not,” said
Taylor
.  “It’s a love story.”

“But it’s got a beast in it,” said Trina.

“He’s a friendly beast who loves the princess, so he’s really not scary,” said
Taylor
, matter-of-factly.

“You can watch it on the laptop – it’s all charged up,” said Cynthia

The girls still weren’t convinced.

“Hemp, are we okay to fire up the microwave?” asked Cynthia.  “For a quick bag of –”  She knelt down in front of the girls, her eyes wide. “Popcorn?”

They began jumping up and down, clapping their hands.  “Movies and popcorn!” shouted
Taylor
.

Trina looked like she was going to pee her little pants, she was so excited.

“Okay.  I’ll be over in a minute.  You guys can watch in the office, okay?  And all the doggies can come in with you.  They’ll be like big furry pillows.”

“Okay!” they chimed together.

I smiled as the three headed into the office.  Damn, they were cute, and I really felt that Trina kind of had a big sister she could look up to.  It was a good feeling.

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